Stories I Create On The Train

There’s a weird sort of detached intimacy on the train. Few instances require such long periods of closeness with complete strangers. Eyes pretending to stare into space as you absorb the body heat of the person next to you. A thigh pressed to yours, a back against yours, a crotch at eye level inspiring lewd thoughts.

I’m pressed close to the back of a man with long hair. While he seems intent on his phone, I can’t help glancing at him. Straight, light brown, and to his shoulders. It’s the kind of hair I want to run my fingers through. It’s the kind of hair I imagine tugging, pulling, yanking hard as he fucks me.

I really need to stop saying that word – fuck – but that’s what I picture him doing to me. Holding my legs wide open, pushing them to my chest as his cock slides in at the perfect angle that forces the basest sounds from my throat. I’d be a loud moaner with him because something about his strong jaw tells me I won’t be able to help myself.

His beard barely makes the cut as neatly trimmed and I can almost feel it scraping across my face. Just the thought makes me shiver. I want to see him smile so I can catch a glimpse of his teeth. Of course, it’s not totally necessary because I’m already imagining him sucking on my breast. Biting… I really mean biting with that perfect pressure that would make me squirm and cry out.

That’s a perfect time to pull his perfect hair. Mm, my fingertips itch to feel it now. The silky slide of it, the coolness… Yes.

He hums to whatever he’s listening to and my pussy clenches at the deep sound of his voice. I want to hear him groan in my ear as he cums inside me. I’m desperately pushing down the urge to move closer. I must maintain that respectable distance even on a train this packed. I must, I must, I must… Ignore the crazy pings of my body and over active imagination.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, folks, but this will be the last stop. This train is being taken out of service.”

Our eyes meet briefly before we file off the train. They’re that hazel color I’d like to sink down in. He’s quickly swallowed up by the crowded station and I’m reminded that it’s been a while since I’ve been on a decent date. I turn my mind to other things as I exit.


      1. Dark brown. And I’m told they are very pretty… Not in a femme sort of way. I don’t think. How does one make fun of that? Suggesting you’re into hippies? Grunge band boys? What’s there to tease about?

      2. Making fun may be too harsh. More like laughing because of my effusive talk about liking his hair. I like biting and pulling so of course I was talking about such things in relation to this gent. She joked about schoolyard rules applying if I pulled his hair in public. Lol.

      1. I have no doubt…I don’t remember having such vivid thoughts in the past, but I’ve definitely done something similar – looking at someone and wondering what this or that might be like with them…

  1. I love this, Cara. I do this kind of thing all the time, too, which them makes me wonder how many other people in my space are doing it along with me. Makes me want to do a monthly thing (I’m done with weekly memes!!) where I recount a fantasy like this one. I doubt I’ll do anything that formal, though… just a busy mind on a chilly Sunday morning making promises it can’t keep! haha xx Hy

    1. I was wondering that myself, extending it into who was creating fantasies with me in them. I’m self-centered in that way. If you manage to put something up, I’ll definitely read. 🙂

  2. I am not often on trains but I was recently. I thought of your stories. I looked at the commuters. “Maybe” “No way” “Hmmm, not sure” “Yes…” “Hello…” and “Oh hell, yes!” – they were few and far between though 😀

I like it when you talk to me

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