My morning commute is typically crowded, but this is ridiculous. The subway is absolutely packed to the brim – standing room only. I know I’ve only been going to college in the city for a couple months, but I’ve never seen it this bad. It looks like something you’d see in Japan or China – packed person to person with no room to even stick your elbows out, much less breathe. I feel like a sardine, squished tight against my fellow commuters, but I suppose it could be worse. I don’t mind it so long as nobody tries to steal shit out of my purse, I just want to get to class.
I amuse myself through the delay by watching a group of high school boys that are squished in front of me – separated only by an older lady in a pantsuit. They’re loudly complaining and discussing their school day, which keeps me moderately entertained when I can’t even move my arm far enough to scroll through reddit on my phone.
With all the commotion, the constant bumping and jostling, the noise of my fellow commuters, and the sound of the train itself, I don’t really notice the first brush against my ass. I figure someone just got bumped into me. It’s ok, it happens. The only reason I would feel it at all is because I wore a thinner pair of yoga pants today.
But then it happens again. I stiffen as a large hand brushes over my ass – not grabbing or anything, but definitely feeling me up. My blood runs hot. Is this what I think it is? Shit like this doesn’t happen outside of anime. It was probably another accident, or maybe it’s some lady’s purse that’s presses against my ass. I certainly don’t have the space to turn around and see. I keep my gaze straight forward and try not to think about it.
The more I try not to think about the hand against my ass, the more I do. The pressure moves and I’m…upset? God, I really need to get laid. How long has it been – a month? I can’t start fantasizing about getting felt up on the subway. That’s fucking pathetic.
I’m trying to get my mind on other things, when something that is definitely not a purse grabs a thick handful of my ass, squeezing roughly. My mouth opens in shock and I have to harshly bite the inside of my cheek to keep from making noise. God, I *am* getting groped!
The hand is warm and large and squeezes my firm ass roughly through my yoga pants – and just my yoga pants. God damn me for not wanting to show a panty line. And God damn me for the heat pooling between my legs at that thought. The hand is soon joined by another, squeezing the other cheek and kneading it. It feels good, and I’m struggling to keep my wits about myself. Alright, I’m getting a little groped. It’s fine. That’s cool. I can handle that.
Until one of the hands travels lower – away from my ass and between my legs, pressing at my heat. I grip my purse tight and press my lips together, preventing myself from screaming. I can tell when he presses against me that I’m wet, and when I hear a low chuckle from behind me, I know he can feel it too.
“Slut.”
The word cuts harshly against my ear, breathy and low. I duck my head away from the voice, but as the train hits a bump, his hands are on my hips, pressing me firm against him. And his dick. God, I can feel the hard outline of it, thick and long. My mouth is dry. This is going too far – I can’t let this happen! I’m in public! I have no idea who this man is!
But I don’t say anything. I don’t want to make a scene. I am a slut for not saying anything sooner, aren’t I? I let him feel my ass up, I got myself into this mess. And who would believe me?
One hand still firmly on my hip, he discretely slides the other up under my sweatshirt. My breath catches in my throat at his hand slides over my ribs, and I shiver as he touches that delicate skin. He reaches the edge of my bra and lets out an impatient breath at the back of my neck, grinding his dick against my ass. He yanks my bra down, pawing the cups down until he’s freed my tits. One brush from his hand and my nipples are hard, and he handles my chest as roughly as he did my ass, pinching my nipple so hard and tugging so that I might scream if I weren’t pressed against some old lawyer woman.
My face has to be bright red by now, but nobody looks at me. Nobody seems to care as this man plays with me like I was his for the taking. Why did he pick me? Was it the yoga pants showing off my toned ass? My 34C boobs? I didn’t think they were big, but maybe some men did. Was it because I was a college student, and he knew I wouldn’t speak up? Did my sorority sweatshirt make him think I would like it?
He got bored of my tits eventually. He’s still grinding against my ass, his other hand a vice on my hip, forcing me in place as he humps me. Maybe this would be it. He would just use me as a glorified pillow and come in his pants. The thought was humiliating, but it would be ok. It meant this would be over and I could move on with my life.
He had other plans.
He shoves the hand he had been using to grope my tits down the front of my pants with no warning or fear. I actually gasp this time, bringing a hand to my mouth to quiet the noise. Luckily it’s lost over the sound of the screeching train, the squabbling high school boys.
I hear him chuckle when he realizes I have no underwear on.
“Of course,” he sneers.
I try to move my hips away from his hand, steadily trailing lower, over my shaved mound, against the sensitive skin on the inside of my thighs. My body is reacting on its own – I could feel how needy my clit was, how absolutely soaked through my pants were. But I didn’t want this, I couldn’t!
But I couldn’t get away either. He traps me, pressing his hips firm to my ass, the hand on my hips no wrapped around my waist.
“Stop squirming, whore. You know you like this.”
I hate it because I do like it. I know I do, but I still resist him. I whine soft when he parts my folds, his fingers taking whatever he wants. He slides them further between my legs, purposefully avoiding my clit as he slides over my slit, over all the slick there. His finger penetrates me easily and I quiet another surprised noise. He can’t press in very far from his angle, but he finger fucks me until he’s wet. I can hear him chuckling behind me, no doubt because of how fucking wet and desperate I am to be fucked.
He grinds against me when he feels me stop squirming, and this close I can feel his dick twitch in his pants. It makes me want to moan, and I almost do when his fingers finally find my clit. My hand is over my mouth now, I can’t help it. I bite down on my palm as he circles my clit slow, teasing me. I’m so fucking sensitive – I haven’t had any in so long – and even that has my legs wobbling, my hips rocking into it.
“God, needy cunt,” he laughs in my ear. I close my eyes at the embarrassment as he speeds up his fingers. I won’t last at all like this, and I think he knows that. He presses so hard against my poor abused clit, slick with my wetness and begging to come. I couldn’t stop my orgasm even it I tried, and soon I’m coming against his hand, my hole squeezing tight over nothing, my clit pulsing as he continues to rub me raw. He only stops when I let out a whine from overstimulation.
“Fucking slut, coming in public like that. Need to be taught a lesson.” His breath is hot and his voice is gravelly. I did that to him – I turned him on so much that his voice was low and shaking. He presses his hot cock against my back and I moan soft against my hand. He laughs in return, pressing harder, as if I didn’t know what was coming.
It turns out I didn’t.
The next time the train started screeching he used the distraction to slide his hand out of my pants, wiping all my slick on my sweatshirt. Then, with one swift tug, he reaches between my legs and rips the seam of my yoga pants wide open.
Oh my God. Oh my God no.
He’s going to fuck me right there in the train, and I couldn’t stop him. I wouldn’t stop him. My cunt was already throbbing at the thought of him inside me.
The sound of his zipper is muffled in the din of the crowd. It isn’t long before I feel him against me, uninhibited by his pants. He teases the head of his cock against me, hard and warm and slick with precum. I gasp and bite my hand, my stomach fluttering. It feels so good, but what if – oh God – what if he comes inside me? I’m not on birth control, and as he slid the head of his hot cock against me, I know he’s not taking the time to put on a condom.
Before I could wonder any more he starts to press inside me, and I bite my palm so hard I draw blood. I knew he felt thick, but I had no idea just how big he was. He presses right against my walls in the best way, as he grinds so dirty, pressing himself into me inch by inch so I can feel every bit of him. I feel myself clench around him, squeezing him tight with how much I need it. My clit throbs, and I know that I could come again, just from this if he hit just the right spots.
He moans low against my neck as he starts to fuck me. He can’t move his hips much in the cramped train, but the grind makes it easy for me to slide my hand down and touch myself in time with his thrusts. I feel like a whore because of it, but aren’t I anyway? How do you come back from letting some strange man use you on a crowded subway?
He grips me roughly as he grinds so deep into me, pressed into my cunt to the hilt. I know that he’s taking his time so that he doesn’t come right away, and I can tell by his hot dick twitching inside me that he’s close, so close to release. We’re getting close to the next stop, and he speeds up. Short, hard thrusts that barely use his hips, but have me shoving the meat of my thumb into my mouth to keep myself quiet. I can’t stop the cries as he fucks me like that, pounding right against my g spot. He’s panting in my ear and I can feel the way his thrusts are becoming more and more erratic as pure lust and need take over. I’m letting out short, high pitched moans, muffled by my hand, my clit hard and throbbing and needing him.
He quiets his moan by biting his lip and he comes hard into me, pumping me full of hot burst after hot burst of his come. I cry out, barely able to cover it with my hand and a lucky screech of the subway. I’m coming soon after him, rubbing my clit until I’m convulsing around him, my pussy sucking every last drop of him up. It’s so, so, wrong, and dirty, and horrible, but god, I feel so warm and full and satisfied in a way I’ve never felt before.
He slides out of me as soon as he’s done and tucks himself into his pants. The train rolls to a stop and the doors open. I hear him laugh one more time as the crowd shifts and I’m left like this – my yoga pants ripped and my cunt exposed, filled to the brim with come. It takes me a while to come back down from my orgasm, and when I do, I realize that the old lady in the pantsuit got off at the last stop.
And those four high school boys are staring right at my dripping pussy.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/at87mo/subway_slut_mf_public_humiliation_risky_sex
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Wow
Fuckin hottttttt
Good story
Sex in a confined space – that is, people packed closely together. Very well done, hot story.
F**king hot….got me hard as hell!
Phenomenal!!! I can’t wait to read more. Keep up the good work.
Very nice