the subway


We were friends, business associates. Nothing more.
I’d never thought of you this way before tonight. Suddenly, I couldn’t meet your eyes across the table and not think of you in this new, incredibly exciting way.
I looked across the table at you and smiled to myself. You looked so stuffy. Your tie, perfectly knotted beneath your Adam’s apple, made my fingers itch to slide the silk bonds apart. Your shirt was smooth, white, perfectly pressed. All I could think about was tearing at those buttons and sliding my hands beneath, crisp hair and warm skin against my palms.

You were blissfully unaware of my scrutiny.
I let my mind wander further as you began to relate a story to me about a work colleague. I tried to imagine what you’d do if I slid beneath the skirts of this very proper tablecloth and made a feast of you with my mouth. Would you be shocked, or would you love it? Would you try to push me away, all too aware of our surroundings, or would you bite back a moan and slide your hand beneath the table to tangle in my hair, encouraging me as I slid your cock between my lips?
The possibilities were wildly exciting. I could feel my nipples harden against the whisper-fine lace of my bra as I imagined what you would taste like in my mouth. Would you be salty, or sweet? Would you breath break if I flicked my tongue over the small “vee” on your cock, at that special place where the head meets the shaft? Would you jump and shudder in my hands as I played with your cock, stroking in two directions at once, all slippery and wet?
I love testing a man’s strength in public. All I could think about as you continued your story was testing you in just that way – bringing you closer and closer to the edge, trying hard not to moan or give away our little game.
I wondered what would drive you crazy. Would teasing little flicks of my tongue drive you insane? Would long pulls of my mouth from base to tip make you clench and shudder? I wanted to slide you all the way down my throat, until I held all of you in my mouth – would feeling your cock slip into my throat make you bite your lip from crying out? I wondered if my hands would push you even closer to the edge as I slid your head around the soft skin of my palm before sliding my fingers slowly down the shaft, my mouth following close behind.
Our desserts arrived, breaking the chain of my thoughts. I smiled and nodded as you finished your story.
Your dessert looked fabulous. It was mounds of white creamy whipped cream layered between incredibly delicate pastry. I wondered what you would do if I slipped my finger into the cream and licked it clean.
You saw me eyeing your dessert. “Would you like a taste?”
If only you knew what I was thinking!
I smiled slowly and nodded. You turned your fork toward me, offering me the handle so I could help myself.
My thoughts were wicked as I shook my head and leaned forward, opening my lips. I wanted to you to slide the fork in my mouth. I wanted you to watch my lips close around the tines as I slipped the whipped cream into my mouth.
You looked a little startled as you picked up a small mouthful with your fork and extended it to me. I held your eyes the entire time as I felt the cool metal slide against my tongue. I closed my mouth around the offered treat slowly, savouring its texture and sweetness. I closed my eyes and let the sweetness fill my mouth as I pulled back, releasing the fork.
What was that stuffy mind of yours thinking as you watched me?
“Mmm. That was delicious.” I smiled at you.
You looked even more disconcerted.
You shook your head as if to clear your thoughts. “More?”
Was I actually going to go through with this? My mind and heart raced as I considered the possibilities. I could feel a throbbing start low in my body as I debated what to do. It was the throbbing, in the end, that decided it for me.
“That depends.” I murmured.
Now I’d really thrown you, I could see it in your eyes. “On what?”
Feeling my heart pounding unbearably, I answered, “On whether or not I can do this…” As I let the sentence hang in the air, I reached over and took your hand. I could see your shoulders tense as I dipped your index finger into a stray dollop of cream and brought it to my lips.
I watched you as I licked the cream with delicate greed from your finger. I could see sensual awareness flare in your eyes, mixed with curiousity and near disbelief as my tongue slid around the tip of your finger, once, twice… Finally I slid the tip of your finger between my lips and sucked, lightly, before releasing your hand.
You cleared your throat and looked at me, shock and arousal warring on your face.
My lips curved slowly as I held your gaze.
I was determined to shake you up and make you lose that stuffy exterior.
I was willing to do whatever it took…

* * * * *

By the time we’d finished our coffees, the shock had nearly worn off, judging by the look on your face. In its place was a subtle wariness, as though you didn’t know what to expect next.
Sometimes the unexpected can be arousing.
For me, the urge to muss every inch of your groomed self had only gotten worse. While the shock in your eyes had amused me, it was the sensual awareness that had kept the place between my thighs throbbing as I watched you over the table. It felt incredibly intense; my every nerve, every sense was hyperstimulated with my arousal and newfound awareness of you.
I wondered how far you’d let me go.
As we rose from our seats, I watched your body in its impeccable business attire. I wanted to wrap my thighs around your waist and grind myself against you.
Ever the gentleman, you held out my coat for me. I turned to slide my arms inside and found that the imp in me was impossible to resist.
I stepped back into your body and moved against it slowly as I worked my left arm into its sleeve. I heard your indrawn breath as the curve of my ass brushed softly against your cock.
You pushed slightly against me, letting me feel your hardening length as I took my time pulling my right arm into my coat. I nearly laughed out loud with the adrenaline surging through my body. I was getting to you.
We left the restaurant without saying a word, tension rising between us with every action taken, with every word not spoken. As we walked down the street, I could feel my nipples rubbing against the lace of my bra, silently asking for your hands, your tongue.
As we passed a darkened alley, my mind began to race. I wanted to pull you into the alley and push you against the brick wall with my body. I closed my eyes and imagined I could almost feel your coat rubbing against my breasts, your cock pushing against my stomach. I wanted to grab your hand and slide it between my thighs, past the garters that graced my hips to the warm and wet nest in between. I would grind against your fingers, begging you to slip a finger inside me. And then I would…
Your touch on my arm startled me out of my daydream. You were asking if I’d like a ride home.
My aching, aroused body had a better idea.
“No, I’d rather take the subway home. Would you mind standing on the platform with me until the train comes?” I knew your gallant nature, hating the idea of a woman standing alone at night on a subway platform, would force you to come along with me.
And then I could play out my fantasy…

* * * * *

The platform was deserted. We walked to the very end of the platform and then turned to look at each other.
Your eyes held wariness, desire, indecision.
Touching your arm lightly, I drew myself up on my toes to look at you. I held your eyes for the shattering space of two breaths, three breaths, until my heart was pounding and my nipples tightened almost painfully beneath my clothing.
My lips met yours; the contact was butter-soft. Your breath let out with a whoosh as I skimmed the edges of your lips with the very tip of my tongue. It licked every line, every crevice of your lips before dipping inside to tangle with yours. I could taste your heat and it made me want you even more. I slid my fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck as I opened your mouth even more for a deeper tasting. In the arousing silence punctured only by our increasingly ragged breaths, the kiss grew more and more intimate until I was rubbing myself against your cock and our tongues were so deep into each others mouths that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.
God, I wanted you.
You broke away first and looked down at me, stunned. You started to speak.
“Shh.” I whispered, and held a finger to your lips.
I didn’t want anything to spoil the seething silence.
I turned my head quickly to see if anyone else had come onto the platform. Seeing no one, I grabbed your hand and led you toward the service worker’s steps at the edge of the platform – the ones that led into the tunnels.
I could feel you pull back a little, uncertain. I held fast to your hand and led you into the service tunnel itself for several yards.
I stopped and turned to rest against a ledge at the base of one of the pillars. Sitting on the edge, I spread my stockinged legs and pulled you between them to kiss me again.
This time your mouth slammed onto mine, a passionate onslaught of wet and tongues and heat. I gave into temptation and wrapped my legs around your waist, pulling you in closer to my aching cunt. As I felt your cock push against my aching clit, I moaned and rubbed myself against you, needing the friction in a way I’d never needed it before.
I felt your hands work their way inside my coat to brush against my nipples. Breath breaking, I pulled away from your kiss and whimpered as your fingers traced the hardened rise of my nipples through my shirt. Your fingers caught and plucked them rhythmically, sending shafts of lust sleeting down my body to center in my pussy. I could feel my clit throbbing, begging for your touch.
Fulfilling my fantasy of the entire evening, I reached beneath your trenchcoat to find that perfectly pressed shirt and tie. I loosened the silk bonds of your tie and reached for your shirt. Pulling it open one button at a time, I tugged impatiently at the fastenings until the shirt finally came open and I could slide my fingers over your skin, now hot to the touch. Your chest hair crinkled my palms.
God, there is nothing sexier than a man with chest hair.
I slipped my fingers over your chest and found your tiny nipples, plucking them in the same rhythms you were using to work on mine. Your moan was right next to my ear and sent delicious shivers down my spine.
Before I realized it, your fingers had plucked open my blouse and you were holding my naked breasts in your hands, brushing your thumbs over my nipples. I gasped and jerked in your hands as you rubbed my nipples in the center of your palms, rolling them until I felt like my clit was the center of the universe and I could feel my juices wet on my upper thighs.
I had to taste you, now.
Hopping off the ledge, my hands went to your belt, unclasping and unzipping and untangling until I could hold you in my hands.
I’d never felt anything so hard.
You were so painfully aroused I could nearly feel your heartbeat as I held your cock between my palms. I crouched at your feet and began to lick the tender underside of your cock with my hot, flickering tongue. I could feel you suck in a breath and let it out in a slow groan as I lashed you with my tongue. I licked around your head in circles, bathing it, until it was fully wet.
Slowly, I slipped your cock between my lips. I felt your stomach clench as I slid my mouth further and further down your shaft. Your right hand tangled in my hair, rubbing my scalp with small encouraging motions as your left hand shot out to steady yourself against the pillar.
Oh God, you tasted so good. I could have sucked you for hours.
My hands slid up behind you to grab your ass I began to suck in earnest, varying the pressure, the speed, the suction, learning what made you gasp and what made your fingers shake.
On a low moan, you held my head and coaxed my head upward, pushing me back to perch on the pillar ledge again.
You stepped between my open thighs and slid your fingers higher, higher, until you were brushing my clit lightly with every stroke. I shivered as though whipped every time your fingers made contact. I wanted to grab your hand and grind up against it.
I felt a finger slowly enter inside me. God. My muscles clenched around your finger, sucking on it, pulling it deeper and closer inside. I heard you groan and knew you were imagining those strong muscles wrapped around your cock.
I needed you inside me. Now.
I urged you closer and then closer still until I felt you like a rock between my thighs. My hands slid down and squeezed you as I slid you inside my pussy, all hot and wet. We both moaned softly as your cock slid deeply into me.
Taking a deep breath, I clenched my muscles around you once, twice, letting you feel the strength and flexibility of my muscles. You jerked as though touched by a live wire.
I wrapped my stockinged legs around your waist and whispered in your ear that I wanted you to fuck me, fuck me hard and deep and fast. You started a delicious throbbing rhythm that eased and increased the need of my itchy pussy. I could feel you going deeper and deeper with each stroke, and I used my legs to pull you harder against me as you moved.
God. This wasn’t going to last long. It was too hot, too much like my fantasies. I wanted to scream but knew the people on the subway platform would hear me.
In the distance, a rumble.
You were sweating and whispering in my ear as we tried to grind our bodies into one another. My pussy muscles clenched and unclenched around your cock with every stroke. The ground beneath your feet began to shake.
A train was coming.
I slipped my tongue into your mouth as the ground began to shake even more and the pitch of the oncoming train grew and grew.
“More! Oh, God, yes!” I whispered in your ear as the very walls around us began to shake.
Just before the train arrived, you slipped your hand between us and flicked your thumb over my ultrasensitive clit, sending me reeling over the edge. Your body stiffened against mine.
Our mutual shouts of climax were drowned out by the thunder that was the subway train. We bucked against one another for nearly a full minute as we rode the wave.
Gasping, nerve endings still tingling, we stayed as we were, looking at each other with our foreheads pressed together.
I looked down at you and grinned to myself. Your pants were in a heap at your ankles. Your shirt was wide open under your rakishly loose tie and your overcoat was wildly askew. Faint traces of dirt were on your hands, your forehead, your shoulder from where you’d brushed against the pillar. Sweat was still cooling on your forehead and chest from our exertions, and your hair was adorably mussed from my fingers.
You looked deliciously disheveled.
I grinned.

About the author

Vikki McKay
By Vikki McKay

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