She had woken up to the beat of her throbbing pussy. Days like this weren’t easy, tired by the end of it she entered the train, her pussy still wailing for attention. The air conditioning was cold, she shivered – she had only worn a dress, underwear, bra and sneakers today. She felt her nipples harden in the cold air, her underwear wet with constant arousal now clung close to her body. There were no seats. ‘Of course’, she thought. Finding a handle to steady herself, she closed her eyes willing her body to stop. Her nipples rubbing against the lace of her bra with the rise and fall of her breath, felt so good. Opting not to moan loudly, she opened her eyes searching for a visual distraction.
The houses and street lights flew by in the dusk. She noticed a man staring at her, their eyes met. She looked away, but he didn’t. He was tall with brown hair, possibly around her age with sinewy arms and hands. She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, her breasts swaying, nipples swollen with the cold, sent electric shocks of pleasure straight to her clitoris. He was still staring, she looked into his eyes again – he was gazing at her with curiosity. He was beautiful. She was an artist – she found beauty in all human physicality, and imagined sketching his figure in charcoal rubbing her fingers against the paper, shaping his contours.
Her vulva throbbed and moaned between her legs. She mentally composed herself, hers was the next stop. She’d be free from the cold air and able to walk off some of her pent up frustration. The train came to a stop, she lined up to exit – the man who had been watching her joined the line. Her body felt nervous – excited by his presence.
Exiting, she walked through the station to the overpass stairs. Her body alive with the thrill of him still behind her. Her self-control and common sense slowed her climb on the stairs, allowing him to pass. As she slowed, busy people rushed by her, wanting to hurry home. He didn’t. This was thrilling, she knew she should be wary, concerned for her safety – but the throb of her pussy and her growing arousal blanketed all her sensibility.
She made her way up the street to her car, dusk fading into darkness – illuminated only by street lights and the warm glow from surrounding house windows. Footsteps followed hers, not totally out of the ordinary – many commuters parked on this street. She slowed as she reached her car, taking the opportunity to turn and glance behind her. He too, was making his way up the street – slowing sporadically to look at his phone. She dug into her bag, pretending to search for her keys, waiting for him to pass. They looked up at the same moment, ‘Good evening’, he said in passing. ‘Yes’, she said ‘It is… You too’. Feeling a surge of relief and disappointment as he moved away, she looked into her bag to actually find her keys. Her pussy and nipples burned with the agony of unanswered hungry desire.
‘Are you alright?’, she heard him ask. She looked up startled. ‘Sorry’, he said ‘I thought you asked me something.’ Her whole body flushed with excitement at his return. Slipping her keys into the pocket of her dress, ‘Oh’ she said trying to hide her pleasure in his return. No longer willing to fight her need for a warm, hard cock inside her, ‘It is a lovely evening, you have beautiful arms…’ she said. He looked at her with a curious expression that melted into a half smile. ‘You have beautiful lips and nipples’ he said.
They kissed slowly with matching passion, intent on relieving their sexual desires. Bags dropped at the curb, he turned her around, her body resting against her car. He buried his head into the curve of her neck kissing her, taking in the scent of her hair and skin, hands slowly rubbing her waist. Her body quietly shuddered at his touch, reaching behind her to stroke his face. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’, he asked slowing his embrace. ‘Yes’ she said, pushing her hips back, rubbing herself against his erection.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12ji25t/on_the_way_home_part_1_mf_30s
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