Underground Heat

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You have an encounter on the tube, but where will it lead?
3.4k words
4.55
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The train hurries into the tube station, opening its doors and disgorging a few harried looking commuters. You squeeze onboard with the tide of homeward-bound people, all but a few obvious groups studiously avoiding speaking or looking at their fellow travellers, each one grim-faced as they think their own thoughts. You are not a regular traveller and look around the packed carriage, glancing at faces and wondering what people are thinking, wondering what is going through those minds behind the blank expressions, the sharp suits giving no clue to the private lives and thoughts of the wearers. You look down at your feet, placed slightly apart to counter the rocking of the train as it hurtles through the inky blackness of the tunnel, the lights flickering for a moment as the train jerks its way along the rails. Your hand grips the pole beside you, adding stability, your back pressed against the glass partition between you and the seats as you sway in time with the movement of the train.

The movement slows as the tube pulls into the next station. Few people brush past you as they leave the train, the open door next to you bringing a welcome breath of air heavy with the damp smell of the underground, but preferable to the overpowering aftershave of the man who was standing next to you, thankfully alighting into the throng, bodies heaving onto the train once the last passenger wanting off had stepped onto the platform. The crush is intensified as more get on, a girl just managing to squeeze on as the doors are about to close. She stands in front of you, slightly at an angle, her hand reaching to grab the pole you are holding as the train lurches into movement, temporarily unbalancing her. Her fingers brush yours as she tightens her grip, that slight touch of her soft skin on yours drawing your attention to her as more than just another body squeezed into the packed tube train.

You can just make out her profile, high cheekbones with soft skin stretched over them, as light flush of hurry lending them a glow. Her eyelashes brush her cheek as she closes them momentarily, and she tilts her head back, rotating it as if to ease her shoulders. Her arm brushes against yours slightly as the train continues to rattle on its way, and she is pressed against you with the momentum as the train slows, her shoulder against your chest, her arm against yours and she is unbalanced, her feet moving to compensate, leaving her stood with her back towards you. The train pulls into another station and she leans against you to let people squeeze past her, off and on the train, her body pressed to yours as a mother leads her young child onto the heaving train, leaving space for the little boy to stand in as his mother fusses and tell him that it’s only one stop till they are nearly home.

She stays like that, pressed against you, the smell of her hair invading your senses, a clean, fresh smell that mingles with her light perfume, coupled with the slight warmth of her that you can feel through your shirt, your open jacket leaving enough of you free to feel her movement against you as the train rattles on its way once more. The acceleration pushes you towards her and you feel her leaning back into the movement, into you, her slight movement, and the smell of her starting to arouse your senses. You look down, seeing her white cotton blouse against your chest, the long rope of her hair in a plait pressed between you, not uncomfortably resting on your breast bone between you and her spine. Your gaze travels over her shoulder, noticing her collar, open and exposing the creamy skin of her neck and just showing the slight curve to her shoulder. You realise that her blouse is unbuttoned quite far as you look down on where she leans against you, and you can see the soft flesh of her throat where it dips between her shoulder blades, your gaze dragged inexorably down to the edge of her blouse, a small crescent of lace showing where her bra is exposed to your scrutiny.

You can feel yourself becoming aroused, your prick, once dormant in this crowded atmosphere, beginning to stir with your desire. You become slightly alarmed at the sensation, wondering if she can feel it too, where she has her hips so close to yours, but not pressed against you. The train lurches again and she is pushed against you, her buttocks brushing your burgeoning hardness and sending a shiver up your spine and making you pray silently that she didn’t feel it, that she doesn’t think you are a pervert.

You notice her stiffen slightly, her arm becoming more rigid and you feel her intake of breath as it makes her back press against you, then she relaxes as she exhales, pressing herself against your growing hardness, moving her feet to increase the pressure, the body contact arousing you more, the very fact that this unknown girl is pressing against you sending your heart racing. She moves slightly, her movements so slight as to not be noticeable to the other travellers, but felt by your prick, teasing it, making you want to touch this girl, to feel her skin on yours, the thought of having her in your arms, pressed against you tightly, skin on skin as she writhes against you, feeds your lust. She leans against you more, the pressure on your prick delicious as the movement of the train jars your bodies together.

Passengers come and go, pushing past you both, squeezing her tighter against you as you shift your feet to move against her, the movement unnoticeable in the throng of people coming and going each time the train judders to a halt in the stations. You wonder how far this girl is going, how long you have left of this delicious feeling before she departs. You decide to make a move, your free hand coming up to rest on her waist and she starts slightly at this touch, but soon relaxes, her hand coming up to join yours, a casual hand-on-hip stance to all but the closest observer as her fingers brush yours, palm pressing against the back of your hand. She presses herself into you more, tilting her head to one side, leaving your eyes to wander over the flesh bared by her open blouse, the view from above revealing more than would normally be seen, the curve of her breasts, the cool dip in between, the lace of her bra.

The train pulls into another station, and you feel her tense. She pulls away from you slightly, removing the pressure from your prick, and you feel a stab of disappointment as the doors open and she starts to move towards the door. She turns and looks you in the eye, the lustful gleam in them evident even in the fluorescent hell of the tube station. She grabs your hand and drags you off the train just before the doors close, and you are left standing on the platform with this girl as the train sweeps out, the inky blackness of the tunnel swallowing it like some phallic representation of your lust. She smiles at you and starts to lead you up the stairs, away from the platform, through the ticket barriers, past the blank-faced ticket inspectors and out into the cool evening where the streetlamps fight against the twighlight.

She keeps a hold of your hand and leads you along the street in a daze, stopping at traffic lights that are green, traffic rushing through the junction as she pulls you to face her and stands on tiptoe to kiss you. Your lust takes over then and you wrap her in your arms as your kiss becomes forceful, urgent, her responding to your kiss only increasing the heat between you, your prick responding to the feel of her pressed against it once more. The lights change as you kiss, traffic stopping, and she breaks away from you, taking your hand again and leading you with more urgency across the road. Her feet hurry on the damp pavement and you keep pace, your joint lust speeding you to you don’t know where.

She pulls you up the steps of a house, fumbling in her bag for keys, finally finding them. Her hand shakes as she puts her key in the lock and the door swings open to a dimly lit hall. You follow her in, and she uses your body to push the door closed as she presses into you again, her lips searching for yours, the relative seclusion of the hallway making you more adventurous as you run your hands over her, feeling the heat of her through her clothes, exploring her curves, running one hand over her taught stomach, up to the sweet swell of her breast.

You wonder if you have gone too far with your explorations as she pulls away from you again, but she takes your hand and leads you to the stairs at the back of the hall, guiding you up to the second floor, your eyes straying over her back, her curves, her slight sway as she climbs, watching the way she moves, drinking in each step. She unlocks another door and then you are there, in her flat, the slight smell of her increasing as you enter her domain. She pushes the door shut behind you, and you are in each other’s arms once more, kissing, exploring each others’ mouths with your tongues, your hands exploring her body, as she explores yours. You need to feel her skin under your fingers and you impatiently pluck the material of her blouse from the waistband of her skirt, pushing your hands up under the material to caress her skin.. The heat of her body under your fingers pushes your lust to new heights as you press her against you, as she rubs her body against yours, her nipples hard against your chest through her bra and blouse, her hips grinding against your hard prick.

Your imagination takes over, filling your mind with images as you stand there kissing her. In your mind you become a raging lust-beast, tearing her clothes from her body, throwing the rent garments to the floor, exposing her fully to your view. You can almost feel the sensation of roughly pulling her to you, turning her round, bending her over, opening her delicate flower with one great thrust deep into her and rutting at her like a satyr, inexhaustible, insatiable, filling her until you pour yourself into her again and again. Your imaginings arouse you more, driving you on towards what is becoming inevitable as you pull her closer in to you.

She pulls her body slightly away from yours, bringing her hands up to fumble with your shirt buttons. You shrug out of your jacket as she does, the kiss not breaking, but becoming a more tenuous thing as you start unbuttoning her blouse, your fingers brushing against the swell of her breasts as you find the buttons seem to have become too big for the buttonholes. She has your shirt unbuttoned, untucked and is pushing it off your shoulders as you struggle with hers. She pushes your hands out the way, breaking the kiss and undoing the rest of the buttons, hurriedly moving from one to the next as you pull your shirt off, sleeves turning the wrong way out as you do, the cuff buttons still fastened holding the sleeves round your wrists till you tug harder on the material.

You drop your shirt to the floor and move towards her again as she slides out of her blouse and drops it next to your discarded clothing. Pulling her back into your arms for another kiss, you thrill at the feel of her skin on yours, the slight texture of her bra on your chest, and your hands quickly find the catch, fumbling again, but quickly releasing it and she pulls it off, almost with impatience as she presses her now naked breasts to your flesh, her stiff nipples pressing into you. Her hands are all over your back, stroking, rubbing, nails gently scratching at your flesh, her lust evident in every movement. Your hands drop to the fastenings of her skirt, a button swiftly undone, a zip speedily lowered and your hands travel round her waist, inside her waistband, marvelling at the feel of lace under your fingers as you slide the skirt over her hips, warm flesh meeting your touch as you slide it lower.

Her skirt drops to a puddle round her feet and she impatiently kicks it away, then immediately draws her hands round to your stomach, sliding her fingers into the waistband of your jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, releasing the pressure on your prick and making it spring from the material, standing proud through the slit in your shorts. She breaks the kiss as she eases your jeans down, tugging them off, crouching down as she pulls, her head coming down to the level of your prick as she pulls your jeans to your ankles. You move to pull a foot free from the material and stop as she suddenly licks your prick, opening her mouth and taking the head in, sucking greedily on the end. You throw your head back, eyes closed, as the sensation sends you into a paroxysm of ecstasy, your hands moving to twine in her hair as she sucks, her hands busy untying your shoes and you lift each foot in turn to have her strip you naked, shoes, socks and jeans hurried off each foot as she takes more of you in her mouth, sliding down your shaft, then sliding up again, tongue busy over your head, lapping at the precum that is oozing from the tip into her mouth.

Once you are completely naked, she moves her hands to your prick, gripping the shaft with both hands, wanking you as she sucks. She feels you get harder in her mouth as you feel yourself want to cum, and she stops, pulling away from you, wanting to prolong this. You are mildly disappointed at not being allowed to cum in her mouth, but as you open your eyes and look down at her, she stands up again, dressed only in the skimpiest of white lace panties, and gently grabs your prick, leading you towards her bed. You follow willingly, the feel of being led by your prick a new experience, but one that you find immensely erotic. She releases your prick when you reach the bed, climbing onto it on all fours, presenting you with a view of her ass, a thin sliver of material bisecting her peachy flesh, her moistness causing a slightly darker patch where the material is stretched over her slit. You reach out to touch her, your lust making you grab at her hips, pulling her towards you as you rub the head of your prick over the damp spot, sliding the length along the sliver of material, feeling the soft silkiness of her panties contrasting with the heat of her flesh as you rub against the two.

She moans softly as you stroke her with your prick, and this urges you to move your hands, pushing your fingers through the material of her panties at her waist, pulling them off as she helps by wriggling slightly. You do as she did, crouching and then kneeling on the floor as you pull her panties off, discarding them beside you as you kneel there, faced with her clit and her wetness. You put your hands back on her ass, sliding them over the creamy skin, in towards the wet centre, the hotspot of lust. Your thumbs reach the flesh of her mound, and she lets out another soft moan as you slide them along the length of her slit, teasing the lips apart, then you bend in towards it, smelling her slight muskiness as your tongue comes out to taste her. She arches her back, presenting you with more of her and you take the invitation, burying your tongue into her, your lips caressing her lips in an erotic parody of the kiss you shared earlier. You lick at her greedily, your lust-hunger matching hers when she sucked you, and you move your tongue to find her clit, flicking it and sending shivers through her, her lust throwing her over the edge into an orgasm that spills out of her onto your waiting tongue.

You lap at the sweetness, licking her, tasting her until she pulls away from you gently, turning herself over as she does so. She lies there on her back, her knees pulled up, legs parted and she brings her hands down to her thighs, stroking them, looking at you lustfully as she strokes up to her mound and slides a finger along her slit, pulling it upwards, parting her lips with it till her fingertip is on her clit, circling it gently. You stand up, your hard prick aching to be in her, and you start to stroke yourself as you watch her play. She sees you start stroking and she pulls herself into a sitting position, only to take your free hand and pull you towards her. She pulls you down till you have to climb onto the bed between her legs and steady yourself on the bed with your free hand, and draws you into a kiss, her tongue snaking out to taste herself on yours. You lower your body as you kiss, till the head of your prick, still being stroked by you, touches her flesh, moistness coating the tip as you slide it along her length, feeling her still-playing finger on her clit rubbing against you as she teases herself. You slide back down to her wetness, releasing your prick from your grasp as you feel the tip enter her, sliding into her flesh fractionally. You pause there, moving your hands so you are positioned above her, her legs moving to wrap round you, trying to pull you in to her as she moves her hands to your hips to tug you towards her, then you plunge deep into her, the feeling of her around your prick, the velvet wetness of her as her muscles grip you.

You both gasp at the feeling, your full length buried in her, her wetness slicking your balls as they meet her flesh dampened by her own lust and smeared by her fingers and your probing prick. You pause deep within her, then draw yourself out, almost all out, just the tip of you in her, your precum oozing into her, mingling with her, increasing the wetness more. She pulls on your hips, wanting you in her again, and you plunge into her once more, pulling out just as quickly, only to thrust deep into her core again your balls tightening as you feel them slapping against her wet flesh.

Her hands slide round to your buttocks as your movement becomes more rhythmic, thrusting into her, feeling her push her hips up to meet you on every stroke, and she grips your flesh, nails digging in slightly as she grasps your bunched muscles, pulling you in deep as she orgasms again, the sudden rush of her juices, the pulsing of her muscles round you making you want to come inside her, increasing your movement as her orgasm hits a new intensity and she arches her back, throws back her head and lets out a cry of deep animal lust. You feel your prick twitch, then you join her orgasm with yours, one last thrust pushing you over the edge, spilling your hot seed deep within her, pulsing again, releasing more into her, cumming harder than you have ever before, your lust draining you with every heartbeat-pulse of your orgasm.

You collapse onto her, still inside her, feeling her sweat-beaded breasts against your own slicked skin as you lie on top of her, moving to kiss her again, a softer, gentler kiss as your lust subsides and you marvel at what you have just done with this girl from the tube, this stranger who has led you here to her lair, ensnared you and trapped you in her sweet web of ecstasy. Even as you lie there, kissing softly, caressing her skin, running your hands over her, you know it won’t take long for you to become aroused again, and you plan to take things slower next time, explore every inch of her and spend the rest of the night driving her to orgasm, pushing yourself to your limits before unleashing your hot lust into her again and again.

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Hercules_unleashedHercules_unleashedabout 18 years ago
Exhilerating

I have been in that tube and felt the same pressures, unfortunately mine didn't come to much...lol Seriously though, a good piece of writing and I have to wonder, as your profile suggests, just how much of that story might have been real. Apart from that, well done, a well rounded piece that carried me along nicely

Peter

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 20 years ago
Tube Ride

A long slow build up in a situation where it is not difficult to envisage yourself.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 20 years ago
I'm a fan of the slow, hot, buildup

And this story provides that! From the erotic interplay on the subway to the apartment, this story steams up the monitor.

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