Missed Connection on the NYC Subway [FM]

^(I’ve fictionalized this into a story—link in Comments. The below is an account of how it all started…)

It was a warm day in September, much like today, and I had just come from a hot yoga class in downtown Brooklyn. Showered and headed to work in Manhattan on one of the most crowded subway lines in the city, I waited for two trains to pass before I could even board one. This probably sounds unreal to suburbanites, but this is a common occurrence. Forget about even getting a seat. Strictly standing room only.

I had strategically waited at the end of the platform, where the last car on my line is usually a little less packed, but all the cars are packed today. Oh, well. As the doors glide open, I hop on and maneuver my way towards the end wall. Random commuters on all sides. I did quickly notice one cute guy who didn’t look like he was going to the office. Slightly damp hair probably from a shower, but his clothes, while clean, didn’t look laundry-fresh, if you catch my meaning. He definitely looked like he was coming home from spending the night somewhere. Total fox, though. Dark hair, slouchy jeans, T-shirt, hazel eyes. All this I surmised before the subway doors closed. I am a single girl in the city, after all.

Anyway, I braced myself for the 13-stop ride into the city and pulled up the news and content I had downloaded for the ride. As we progressed, the car got progressively more crowded, to the point where there is hardly any air space between bodies. Sounds gross and it kinda is, but we’re all used it.

Then suddenly, wouldn’t you know it, the train screeched to a halt. You have got to be kidding me. This being the F line, again, this is not that uncommon. This subway line is notorious for track/signal malfunctions. But to have this happen at rush hour is truly nightmarish.

There was a collective groan in the car, as we all keened to hear an announcement. After a minute (which is actually a long time to wait with no news in a stalled subway), a staticky voice came on and made some lame standard announcement, begging our patience, etc. There was wifi in the car so many people were always punching out text alerts, etc. Myself, I was trying to keep my cool, literally. I was still feeling warm from my hot yoga class and didn’t want to work up another sweat.

Then, the moment we all dread. The fans came on, and the lights dimmed. Not completely dark, more like at the movie theater when they show the previews. The conductor announced that we should be moving again within 10-15 minutes. Again, an eternity in a subway car, underground. A lot of sighing out from people around. Some were sensibly cueing up music, etc.

The cute guy had been two people away from me when I first boarded, but with the shift of bodies getting off and on, he was now behind me. So close that when he softly exhaled out his nose, I could feel the faint breeze of his breath. Unbelievably, I could feel my pussy twitch. I chalked it up to the stress of the situation, being still warm from working out, etc. But tbh, after 10 years of riding the subway, I had never felt that.

As I’m standing there in the semi darkness, I start fantasizing about hooking up with this guy. He was just so goddamn cute. If I had seen him at a club, I definitely would have made a move. On the subway, though, kind of unthinkable.

Then the door at the end of the car opened and a conductor started walking through. Everyone standing near the center shifted towards the side to make room, such that the hot guy is pressed right up behind me. You guys, he had a raging hard-on—as in, he’d had it for a while—and it was pressed up right between my ass cheeks! Oh, my God. I just about died.

Immediately he apologized, and I half-turned and muttered that it wasn’t his fault. “We’re all in it together,” I said with a slight chuckle. The conductor had passed, so the hot guy pulled back, but not as far back as he had been. I could *just* feel the fabric of his jeans on the backs of my bare legs (I was wearing a light dress).

By that point, his breath sounded a tiny bit labored behind me, or perhaps it was my imagination… His hard-on was no longer wedged against my ass, but I still felt the imprint of it. I just stood there, my pussy quietly creaming into my panties, wishing so hard he would find a pretext to press against me again, wished that he would grab my hips and dry-hump my ass. But, of course, he could get arrested for that…

I wish I could tell you we exchanged numbers, business cards, etc. But that wouldn’t be *true*.

*So I wrote about what could have happened instead, and so much more than dry humping. Link to the fictionalized story in the Comments. :-)*

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/d9k6ql/missed_connection_on_the_nyc_subway_fm