Trouble With Underground Heat

This was very loosely based on a conversation with an old girlfriend who had recently had children and found herself living in an unfamiliar body - heavier, lactating, awash with hormones - and a confused mind, sometimes hungry and carnal, then full of love and passion. As a man I can never fully understand, but she liked this fantasy when I sent it to her.

I couldn't believe how hot the underground train was, but it was the only way to get home. Daniel was three and old enough to step into the carriage on his own, but Charlie was only tiny, very tired and clingy. Nina our lovely au pair was carrying the buggy and the change bag, the bottles and all the other baby kit. There wasn't space for four, so I sat down next to a wiry brown man. Didn't look English, might have had some middle-eastern or other exotic blood. Good-looking though, so I didn't mind. Nina sat with Daniel and our bag collection on the other side.

I moved to make some space between me and the man. Not easy for me, I've always been a bit embarrassed about my weight, and I was hot and sweaty and Charlie was flopping around half asleep, pulling at my top, sucking his thumb wetly and making me sticky and flustered. It's not that I'm super fat, or even unfit. I'm not one of those obese people you wonder how they live, get dressed, go to the loo and so on. It's just that there's a lot of me wherever you look. My legs are solid, tree trunks really, but can walk me up and down hills all day when required to. But my upper body is just bulky, strong arms and a wide back, ample tits, and yes, I guess some bands of fat around the middle, but nothing I couldn't carry. And the on top of this wall of muscle and flesh my pretty little head. I'm not kidding, it looks like I have someone else's head on me, a fine featured, pixie face with a mane of blond hair. It's so unfair, but then I've got used to it - it's others that do a double take and try and work out what they think of me: is she a beauty or a cow? I smile as I watch their confused little heads spinning. They should listen to other parts of their bodies. There's one part of most men that knows what it thinks of me, and give me due respect.

But right now though my body felt like a volcano. Even my vest top seemed like a layer too many and Charlie was pulling it around so my bra straps were showing. Red in the face I adjusted my clothing and caught the eye of the man next to me. He seemed to be smiling a little with a shine in his eye as if to say, don't worry I know what it's like, I see what you're going through. I turned away quickly and tried to breathe slowly to cool down and closed my eyes for a moment.

'Mrs Waite, Mrs Waite.'

'What Nina?'

'Nearly our stop.'

'Oh.'

'Would you like me to take the children home and you can walk back along the river? '

We often did this, going one stop too far and then strolling back through the lovely park with its river views. It would be nice, and cooler, maybe just what I needed.

'Would you Nina? That'd be so nice.'

The train pulled into the station, and Nina peeled Charlie off me, but he was asleep by now and didn't put up a fight.

'Okay. I'll see you in about 40 minutes.'

Once they were off, I subtly checked my straps and felt a bit more normal. Still so hot though; the park would be lovely. The man caught me eye again

'Not easy, eh?'

Just the trace of an accent

'Lovely kids though.'

'Thanks.'

I gave him one of those half little English smiles. Just enough to not be rude, but not enough to encourage. He turned back to his paper.

I looked at his arm just a few inches from me. Smooth and near hairless, the muscles and tendons clearly visible beneath the skin. A writer I thought, I could imagine those hands cleverly writing. He didn't seem to be hot at all, but it was getting worse for me. Several people had got on the train and the carriage was full again.

Halfway through the Richmond tunnel, the train suddenly decelerated. It came to a stop and made clicking, hot metal noises.

'Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, we apologise for the delay, an electrical cable has...'

Then the announcement cut off. Then two heartbeats later, the lights went out.

'Oh god,' I said out loud, my first thought going to thinking Nina and the kids would miss me.

'Don't worry,' said the man next to me. 'I'm sure all will be fine very soon.'

But now the heat was really building up, from the summer day, the train, the compartment full of breathing heaving bodies. I felt like I was leaking from everywhere, perspiration beaded on my forehead, me breasts still full felt like they were oozing milk, my thighs were stuck together and my arms were slick against my sides. I raised my arms a little, to ventilate a little and took a careful sniff. Did I smell? Of sweat? Or of milk? I moved a little more and briefly came into contact with the man's bare forearm.

'Sorry', he said.

What a gentleman.

In the aisle people were moving, trying to make space for themselves, and other legs were pressed against me. On my right the man shifted and his arm settled down, against mine. And I did not move.

I let him keep it there.

Perhaps he had not noticed, so I kept still. But was this complicit? If I didn't move straight away, it would seem odd if I moved later. What would it mean? This period - how long? - during which I let his arm lie next to mine.

His skin was cool at least, whereas I could feel beads of sweat crawling down my back and into the crack of my bum. My hair was prickling at the roots and my extremities were fat with blood as my body tried to cool itself. My lips were full, even my ear lobes, and down below, who knew what was happening, sweat, juices, lubrication, I wriggled in my seat, but it only made it worse, my pants would be a disaster.

'Take them off.'

A whisper. I froze.

'Excuse me?'

'Soon be off. I'm sure we'll soon be off.'

'I hope so.'

'I don't mind.'

'What?'

The carriage sounded like a stable after dark. Little coughs, movements and shuffling. Not much talk, only low voices.

He lifted his arm and then put it back in contact with mine. Again I didn't move, but it was clear I had let something happen. I had gone along with this strange dark touch and some switch went on and I could feel the warm drug of lust in my abdomen. Best feeling in the world, when you've been turned on, and your body gears up for, well you know. But was this really the time or the place? The hormone rush wasn't helped by my swollen breasts and tingling nipples, ravaged by Charlie's suckling.

Gently the man took my right hand and lifted it. He played with the heat-swollen flesh of my palm and then, in the dark, took two fingers into his mouth, sucked, and then pumped them in and out a few times. Okay buster, I get the message. I pulled my hand away into my own space, wondering if I could just shove those fingers inside me until the train got going.

Silence between us, but I could sense his breathing, or maybe it was my breathing. Round one was over, but what next?

Then, slowly, the sound of a zip and some movement. I elbowed him in his side, but not hard. Shit, what signal was I giving? This was the moment to break contact. This was it, this was too far. The movement stopped. But then, and I don't know why, I let my arm back down, into contact with him, as if saying: 'I'm back'. And the movement started again.

My heart was racing now, and my body on the verge of trembling. His right hand reached across and held mine, gently for a moment and then lifted it over to his lap. The cock was stiff and red hot and I felt I could smell its aroma in the thick air. I squeezed it, just once, and could feel its powerful throb in my hand. He wrapped his fist around my fingers and moved my hand up and down. I knew what to do and wasn't about to be guided. I gave it another hard squeeze and took my hand away. He gave a little grunt, and put his left hand over my thigh and up my leg - a lousy angle for him and one I knew would not work for me. I pushed it away. Poor lamb, must be wondering if this is going anywhere. Silently I spat and filled my hand with a pool of saliva and slithered it hard over his cock. I worked my wet hand up and down. The ridge of the mushroom bulb was tender and hard and I could sense him tense and wince every time I ran over it, but his excitement was beyond control. I wetted up my hand some more and went back to wanking him in earnest

'I'm...'

And then he was pumping all over my hand and his trousers. I gave him a couple of moments to recover and the pulled his right hand over to my crotch. My thighs were wet with sweat and arousal but my knickers would need to be peeled off me. He pulled down the front as much as he could and pushed a couple of fingers right up inside me and rubbed his thumb over my clit. Oh yes, much better his anxious to please digits than mine. As if in harmony the engines generators kicked in and the light began to glow and flicker back into life.

He pulled his hand away quickly, I pulled down my dress and he arranged the paper over his lap to cover up. All the well-rehearsed routines of guilty adulthood. The couple opposite looked at us a bit interested for a moment but went back to their own concerns. The man looked at me with his clever shining dark eyes and with a considered move put his two fingers into his mouth to clean them off.

'More.' I mouthed. 'Want more.'