His and Her Subway Story

(I)

I am an ordinary employee of an ordinary company. My life revolves around the company and my dormitory, with occasional trips to the gym in my free time, and the rest of the time I prefer to stay in my dormitory. Looking at the soaring housing prices, as an outsider in this metropolis, I neither intend nor am qualified to become a mortgage slave. So my days pass uneventfully, with only the calendar on the wall and the clock on the desk reminding me that time is ticking away in a cycle.

One day, walking home from work, looking at the congested traffic, the expressionless pedestrians, the familiar, nauseating street scenes, and the recurring criticisms from my supervisor, I felt the volcano that had been simmering inside me was about to erupt; I needed to vent! Suddenly, a slender figure appeared before me, an idea flashed through my mind, and then quickly took over my brain: Today, I will transform into a hungry wolf!

It must be said that being alone for too long can lead to many bizarre thoughts that even surprise yourself. I didn't even know the name of the person in front of me; I only knew she was a clerk in the office building where my company was located. We'd occasionally bump into each other on my way home from work, walking together with the flow of people to the subway station, and then riding the subway together for a few stops in the same direction. The only reason I noticed her was because her appearance attracted me. A classic oval face, clean and clear eyes, wavy hair, and those shapely, long legs, along with her firm breasts—all proclaimed to those around her that she was a beauty. In the chilly spring weather, while everyone around her was bundled up in thick down jackets, she was dressed lightly: a light jacket, a plain short skirt, and black stockings above her knees. Her slender figure gave me an urge to hug her tightly, and that small section of bare, snow-white thigh was like a feather brushing against my heart, reminding me that spring was coming.

I followed her at a leisurely pace, sometimes walking alongside her for a short distance. She certainly didn't know that a wolf was beside her, silently waiting to attack once we entered the subway.

The subway station was as crowded as ever. The sardine-squeeze made everyone's face show a hint of frustration and annoyance, but today, the sheer number of people made my eyes gleam with a strange excitement. I stood tightly behind her, waiting to be squeezed onto the subway. As soon as the doors opened, I felt a powerful push against my back. Like surfing, you can't resist, but you can skillfully control your direction. I pressed my entire body against her back, forcing her to push forward. The process was arduous, but the result was satisfying. Eventually, I forced her into a corner between the door and the seat, and I, having blocked her escape route, formed a triangle with the door and the seat. People boarding behind quickly filled every seat on the train, and without my effort, we were naturally pressed tightly together.

The train slowly started moving, and the wolf's actions began. My penis was already firmly pressed against her shapely buttocks, and her face was slightly flushed. She must have felt it too, but helplessly unable to move. It was my first time doing something like this, and I felt like I was under a spotlight, my body completely exposed to the world. Every move I made was magnified, and everyone's eyes seemed to be on me. I took a few deep breaths, telling myself no one would notice. Looking at the beautiful woman in front of me, her slender figure and the full, fleshy sensation emanating from my penis, and at my usual numb life, I gritted my teeth: "Fuck it, let's do it!" Her buttocks were very elastic, and my penis could feel a strong rebound. I tentatively pulled back a little, then thrust forward forcefully against her big buttocks. She didn't resist! My courage grew, and my movements became more exaggerated. I moved my body slightly, letting my penis leave her buttocks and get stuck in her butt crack, rhythmically thrusting in and out, sometimes rubbing up and down. Publicly molesting a beautiful woman felt incredibly exciting; my penis was already painfully throbbing from my pants. The woman's face turned even redder; I could tell she was trying to appear calm. I glanced at the people in the seats; the person closest to us had their eyes closed, and the one next to me was playing on their phone. So I pulled back slightly and quickly unzipped my pants. The woman thought I had given up harassing her and glanced back. But a wolf never gives up its prey. I pressed against her again, clearly feeling her warmth and elasticity through her underwear—it felt so good. My penis twitched a few times, and the head was definitely starting to wet. My right hand slipped down from her front, gliding over her skirt, and stopped at her secret entrance. The whole movement was swift and fluid; before she could react, I had already found her clitoris and started kneading it. Strangely, her hand didn't stop me. I guess it was the traditional Chinese woman's submissive nature at play, hoping it would pass quickly. Her lack of resistance gave me more confidence, and I increased the pressure of my hand, already feeling her wetness through her underwear. Her ears turned red, and her chest heaved more. If I could see her face, I would definitely be gritting my teeth and enduring it.

Playing like this, the level of stimulation wasn't enough to make me ejaculate; the psychological stimulation was actually greater than the physical stimulation. The train quickly arrived at a transfer station, and suddenly there were many more people getting off. The sudden relaxation made the space between us slightly larger. Suddenly, her buttocks pushed outwards, and I felt my penis pressing against her anus for a moment. Her push was a bit strong, and I staggered back a step. In that brief moment of space, she quickly turned around to face me. Then, the crowd of people getting on the train immediately squeezed us together again...

(II)

I am a girl from the countryside. Because of my pretty face and my love for dressing up since childhood, female classmates would call me a slut behind my back starting from junior high school. So I studied desperately, just wanting to prove to those who insulted me that I was more than just good-looking. However, under long-term pressure, I developed a habit of masturbation to release my pent-up emotions. At first, it was just rubbing my genitals with a blanket between my legs. Later, after experiencing sexual pleasure with my first love in college, I became even more excessive. After that, whenever I was alone, I would masturbate, and a vibrator became an indispensable toy.

After graduating from university, like many others, I became single again and started working. I once thought my efforts could change how others viewed me, but I found that idea too naive. There were always rumors about me circulating in the company. A girl from the countryside, in this big city, with no connections, I had to rely on myself for everything. The pressure from all sides was suffocating, and the frequency of masturbation increased accordingly, but each time it left me with an even greater emptiness. Late at night, I always wanted someone to hold me in their arms, to shield me from the harm of the world.

In a personnel reshuffle, I earned a small position through hard work, while a senior colleague with more experience than me was not selected. She then began to spread rumors behind my back that I had slept with a certain leader to get the promotion. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. You want me to be a slut? Then I'll be a slut for you to see! I started deliberately dressing sexily, even in the chilly spring weather. Every time I walked down the street, I could feel the passionate gazes of men coming from the opposite direction. For several days in a row, while commuting on the subway, because of the thin clothing and the intense physical contact, I actually felt a slight excitement, a strange desire for more, and my lower body would become incredibly wet. It has to be said, being alone for too long always leads to many perverted thoughts that even surprise yourself.

Today, my inner desire actually came true. I didn't even know his name, only that he was an employee in my office building, and we would occasionally bump into each other on our way home from work, walking together with the crowd to the subway station, and then riding the subway together for a few stops in the same direction. The reason I noticed him was simply because one of his actions attracted me.

While waiting for the subway, I knew he was standing behind me. Then, as soon as the doors opened, he squeezed me into a corner, a very ambiguous corner. I could feel his hardness on my buttocks and the heat of his breath on my ear. His broad shoulders seemed to isolate me from the whole world. His masculine scent filled the narrow space around me. My face was burning hot.

He began to thrust rhythmically into me. There wasn't much physical pleasure, just intense psychological stimulation. My lower abdomen warmed, and I felt a lump forming in my throat. I knew he was excited, because his breath on my neck was getting heavier. Suddenly, he pulled away. "It's over already? I want more…" I couldn't help but turn to look at him. But I realized I was wrong; his hardness was immediately and undeniably rubbing against my buttocks. He was hotter, and my face burned even hotter. In public, I was having the most intimate contact with a complete stranger. Moral shame and lustful desire tormented me like angels and devils, alternating constantly. Finally, he took a further step; his hand touched my most sensitive spot. I knew I was about to succumb; I could already feel my underwear soaked with vaginal fluid. My remaining sanity only kept me from crying out. I gritted my teeth, imagining the schadenfreude in his eyes.

I needed more!

Taking advantage of a gap in the crowd at the transfer station, I turned to face him. Seeing his surprised expression, I couldn't help but feel a little smug. This smugness didn't last long, because without his touch, I immediately felt empty. Overwhelmed by lust.

"Touch me..." a whispered voice escaped my throat.

(III)

I thought I misheard, but the beautiful woman in front of me had already hugged me tightly, leaning against me, her lower body pressing against me. At the same time, her breasts were deformed under my pressure. Such obvious body language needed no explanation.

What man could resist such temptation? I boldly pulled down her panties and probed inside from the edge; it was already a wet patch. My middle finger went directly into her vagina, her tender flesh slowly parted. It was fully inserted without much effort. I began to slowly thrust in and out, each time I pulled out a trace of vaginal fluid. Her whole body began to tremble slightly, her head resting on my shoulder, her hair and hot breath constantly brushing against my neck. Afraid that she would lose her balance, I used my free hand to hold her. To outsiders, it would look like a couple deeply in love. Because I was afraid the loud thrusting would disturb others, I chose to gently stir my middle finger inside her vagina while my thumb continuously pressed and vibrated her clitoris. Her trembling intensified, and the fluid flowing out almost soaked my palm. I knew she was close to climaxing, so I increased the intensity. Suddenly, she tensed up, biting my shoulder, and a stream of hot, slippery vaginal fluid flowed out, running down her snow-white thighs onto her stockings.

After her orgasm, she slumped softly in my arms, and the two strangers embraced like this.

(IV)

After my orgasm, I shamelessly lay on top of him, feeling his firm muscles and strong arms.

I wished life could be like this, with someone to support me.

Strangely, I had developed a dependence on a stranger. Was I really a slut?

The coolness from the wet stockings brought me back to my senses. I could still feel his hardness in my lower abdomen.

But I couldn't satisfy him anymore. That's good, I thought smugly.

We were almost at the station, and without hesitation, I pushed him away with all my might.

I left his world with the surging crowd.

Just like Cinderella at midnight.

(V)

Watching her leave, I couldn't help but wonder who the wolf was, and who the prey was? (First published on Sex Bar) What

I can say for sure is that my story with her has only just begun…

[The End]

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/159390.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=159390&aspx=1

Previous Page : In heat at first sight

Next Page : Their cold war made me happy.

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

His and Her Subway Story

comment Open a new window to view comments