Stories I Create On The Train

Something new? Maybe

I watch as she slips off her sensible flats, changing into four-inch black heels that add height to her slender frame. Even seated I know she’s tall and I can’t help wondering if she’s going out after work, meeting her boyfriend or lover. The man she meets behind her husband’s back, perhaps?

She tosses her straight blonde hair back over her shoulder and looks around. I’m not attracted to women, but something about her face catches my attention. She doesn’t know I’m looking at her, wondering about her, picturing where she’s off to next.

What does she look like when she’s smiling? A touch of anxiety mars her face as the train fills, causing her to frown. What about when her lips part in pleasure? Will she have that look soon, head moving from side to side on a pillow as the tension deep in her belly coils tighter? And thinking on her face when it snaps excites me just a little.

Part of me wants to follow her and be a fly on the wall in that moment. Sitting silently as I watch her legs wrap around lean hips and her eyes flutter shut as her body is filled. Faster, deeper, harder. More, more, more until she can take no more and lets go.

Oh, to experience her unique passion.

This is her stop, but the story still reels through my head even after she disappears through the crowd.

15 comments

    1. I’m getting used to public transit so I can’t help speculating on the train sometimes. It stimulates my already over stimulated brain. Lol. I’d love to read what you’ve speculated.

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