As soon as she walked out of the elevator bank and onto the street, a big whoosh of breath expelled from her and flooded into her. Cecily had barely been breathing, she had been working so hard. She had had a long day at work—all of her days were long, to be honest; her job was demanding and detail-oriented.
She entered the nightly race to the subway station and hustled down the stairs at the sound of the Pavlovian ding-dong that meant the subway car doors were about to close. Cecily found a path through the sardine-packed crowd and on to the train where she managed to find a seat.
“Excuse me,” she said softly to the people on either side of her. Taking the subway might be an animalistic activity, but she was determined to be human. She searched for her novel at the bottom of her tote bag and did not bother to remove her golden shades which made the pages of the book look like age-yellowed pages from a vintage book.
A sudden stop on the train jostled her, and she fell into her neighbour and apologised again profusely.
“No problem,” the woman beside her replied with a smile and a nonchalant wave of her hand.
Cecily picked up her book from her lap, and that is when she looked up and saw him.
The fellow commuter sitting across from her had his suit jacket haphazardly thrown over his lap, and his tie was undone. It was clear he had had a long day as well, but his eyes were focused on her, and she felt herself moisten at her temples and between her thighs.
Cecily was not aroused merely just by looking at an attractive man. This man was becoming a regular part of her evening commute. She had never been this close to him before though, or rather he had never been on display like this before her. He usually was close enough that she could look at him, but this close that she had to avoid looking up because he was the obvious thing to look at. And she could not hide her eyes because usually, she wore dark shades, but the golden-hued shades she was wearing would make it evident if she looked at him for anything more than a second. She wore them because they matched with the cream-coloured dress that also matched with the similar coloured bra and panty set that she wore underneath.
It was summer, and she wanted to look like light.
But it was while she was wondering where to place her eyes that she noticed that he was looking directly at her. He looked at her face and allowed himself a slow, careful
survey of her body that made her feel vulnerable and desired.
As she looked at him, he looked back at her his eyes unflinching. Cecily smiled, and a small laugh escaped her against her will. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, as his eyes followed the movement of them.
Cecily was dismayed with herself because she knew that he had somehow gotten under her skin. On previous nights to this one, when she snuck a look at him, she just stole a glance without him knowing. Or he looked at her fleetingly like ships passing in the night. But tonight their eyes lingered, his eyes slit like she was the actual sun.
They kept looking at each other, and it felt anti-climactic after a while even though between her legs throbbed as she let him see her survey him. She looked at his smooth-shaven face and his eyes that seemed like a combination of amber, green and blue from subway stop to subway stop. Her own reflection in the window behind him showed that she looked curious, her knees parted as she looked at his chest and his biceps. He certainly looked like he went to the gym often. His thighs, when he lifted his jacket also suggested they had seen a lot of action at the gym. His calves too. His body was so appealing to her.
He looked at her with a smile as he saw her eyes dart from his package, and he spread his legs a bit too definitely to tease her. She liked that he appeared a gentleman and had let her eyeball-fuck him, but still maintained his composure. On the other hand, she was soaking wet, and not sure what she was going to do if she was not able to alleviate her pressure soon.
Would she be like the female character in the Anais Nin story who pleasured herself in public on a train in front of others?
No, she would maintain her own composure.
Here.
She closed her book—as if she was going to get off at the next stop and only because she had not been reading it. Her legs parted, she shifted in her seat and if he wanted he very possibly could see her cream-coloured panty before she crossed her legs again tightly, then loosely. If her legs were that tight…she might lose the composure she struggled to sustain.
Her heart started to race because she knew he was getting off at the next stop. He did not move, did not budge at all until the door was just about to close. He nodded at her, and she watched him walk out of the car. His slight but shapely backside had her undivided attention, and a sudden whoosh of breath escaped her. She became aware that her breathing had gotten shallow again while she was observing and being observed by him.
The same shallowness she had had when she just left work.
This was the most connected that they had been since she had seen him for the first time on the train. She wondered if he thought that she was going to make a move? Or if it was only a game because he had noticed her and because they had looked at each other before?
When her stop came, the only thing echoing in her station were her high gold heels escaping out of the subway car, and up onto the street. The sun was still up and sweet, and Cecily wanted to enjoy every last bit of it.
When she got into her apartment, she ran her hand over her stomach and realised she was exceptionally sensitive to her own sound and touch. The sound and vibration of her heels were arousing her even more than she had been aroused on the train.
Their vibration ruminated through her core.
She had hoped that she would be able to at least take a bath before she proceeded with the evening the way that she had planned to. But she was too turned on to wait, too turned on to wait until she was done with her bath. She pulled her dress off over her head, the movement of the dress tearing over her skin aroused her. The movement and the sound of the dress was more than she could bear until she finally threw it to the floor. Her heels vibrated as she wandered into her bedroom, and got on her knees before her goodie drawer. Cecily had an assortment of toys in a myriad of colours and sizes, but she wanted the simple glass dildo that she had with the balls that reminded her of her ben wa balls. Thank goodness she did not have them in today, because she would have come on the train if she had.
Stepping out of her golden heels, she walked in just her web-textured cream-coloured bra and panties over to the window and sat down. She picked up her book as she curled up into her window seat so she could reenact the scene in the subway the way it should have gone. The way that she would have put the protagonist in Anais Nin’s story to shame.
Cecily looked restlessly over the words in the book—the same page she had been reading on the train because she had not really read at all—the words and the pages were still yellow the result of her still wearing her shades. The sound of the pages turning placed her on high alert, Cecily had to touch herself sooner than later. The novel she was reading was about a woman who saw her name on her own grave, and the impending sense of doom that followed her made Cecily desire another type of little death.
She had to put the book down over her thigh finally, and let her hands begin to move over her body. Cecily imagined that she and her sexy fellow passenger were on an empty subway car so they could be lawless as she stripped to her underwear already while he came over to her side of the subway car.
The unbearable throbbing between her legs was more than she could bear, Cecily did not even look to see who could see her in the window outside of her house. Her hands had been all over her body, and her pussy pounded with need. She was so wet when she finally put her hands between her legs, so wet and hot and her heavy breath made her heavier between her legs. She was so wet, she could hear the clicking between her legs as her fingers moved over her wet pussy lips before she really touched herself.
Or put a finger inside herself.
“You make me so horny…” she said out loud because it turned her on to say what she was feeling in her head, and because she was so far gone in her fantasy that she really felt like he was there. The sound of her voice gave her goosebumps, and now that her fingers caressed her wet lips she imploded. She pulled the crotch of her panties aside and soothed the goosebumps that emerged there. Her freshly shaven pussy was a soft delight of flesh to rub before she removed her panties—still not looking to see who could see her outside in the real world. Biting her lip, she narrated the subway scene in her mind as if to her fantasy lover.
“And then you lick my pussy,” she murmured, biting her lip. “You make me so wet.”
She was soaking as she watched herself in her fantasy subway ride watching him lick her pussy. Cecily cradled his head and listened to her moisture beneath his lips, the dampness she saw when he looked up at her, his mouth wet.
Her fingers pumped in and out of her pussy before she was even aware of it. That was what she wanted him to do more than anything. She had studied the bulge between his legs long enough. The thickness that she noticed changed each time she looked at him and was the thickest she has ever seen it tonight.
“I love feeling you so big and hard inside of me,” she murmured still biting her lip as she reached for her glass dildo to fill her the way she needed him to. On the screen of her fantasy, he was inside her, and she was mesmerised by the point at which they joined. In reality, she cried out as she climaxed from her own penetration of herself. Cecily was nearly howling as she rode her glass dildo which slipped easily in and out of her.
One final cry escaped her, as she moaned out.
“I love you.”
Her legs closed together, she felt herself ruminating from her pleasure. She did love what he had made her do to herself. Would she ever do this with him? She did not know. But she did know that the next time she saw him and they smiled their secret smiles…he would not wholly know how very secret her smile was. She would remember this moment, and she would really be golden.
