The Stranger on the Train

Transcript

I've seen you on the train every night this week. We both take the same train home from work in the evening. On Monday, I spotted you a few seats down from me.

You were wearing a skirt. I first noticed your legs. At first I could only see your legs.

I was immediately mesmerized by them. I couldn't stop staring. I finally had a chance to see more of you, and it was my stop, and it was my time to get up and get off the train.

I crossed over to the door and walked out and looked back through the glass to see you. I couldn't believe my eyes. It wasn't just your legs now.

It was everything. You looked fucking incredible. You were reading a book, so you didn't even see me, but I noticed your hair, your face, your breaths, your hands, the way you held the book.

I think I was actually stopped in my tracks right there next to the train staring at you. I wanted to turn back and get back on, but the doors had already closed, and I would have looked like a fool anyway. So I walked home.

I couldn't believe that you were there again the next day. You must have started a new job, or I just moved on the same train again. This time I noticed you as I was getting on the train, and there was a seat empty next to you, so I immediately walked over quickly and sat down right next to you.

You're reading again the same book. You must be enjoying it because you don't really look up at all. You were wearing a skirt again, and again your legs looked incredible.

I could feel myself growing hard in my pants just looking at you, trying not to be the weird guy on the train staring. I tried to be as tactful as possible, not used to staring at women on the train, but I couldn't help myself. I was so close to you now.

I looked over sideways at your face, at your profile as you read, at your breaths as you breathed. I cleared my throat at one point to see if you'd react, to see if you'd look up at me, but you didn't, and our train ride ended as it had the day before, with me enthralled by you, and you having not noticed me. The next day, Wednesday, there you were again, looking just as beautiful.

This time I ended up in a seat across from you, and this time you noticed me. You actually did a kind of double take. You looked up from your book when I was sitting down, and you saw me, and you noticed that I was looking at you, so you, I guess it caught your attention, and it made you look back.

And I could see you take me in, in my suit, my tie, in my briefcase. You seemed to approve. I noticed you looking at me a couple more times during the ride, out of the corner of your eye while you read.

Now that you knew I was there, now that you knew who I was, I guess I didn't feel the need to stare all the time. I made sure that when you were looking at me, I wasn't always looking at you. I caught you looking at me, and you knew you were caught, so you looked back down at your book.

Again, you made me hard, and this time I wasn't just hard, just looking at you. Now I was hard at the thought that you might be desiring me like I desire you, at the thought, just a slight thought that you might be fantasizing about me, even for a second. Thursday comes, and there you are again.

This time, when I get on the train, it's a lot more packed, there's only room to stand. I actually get pushed in, and I end up standing right over you. I'm holding on to the railing above me, standing there again, in a different suit, with my briefcase, and my tie, and my dress shoes, and my green eye, looking down at you.

You notice me, after a little bit. I have my phone out, and I'm looking at it, and I see that you look up at me. I guess I look over at you, and you can't help yourself, you smile at me.

I can tell that you were trying so hard not to smile, trying so hard not to let me know that you remember me, that you actually enjoy the sight of me. I can imagine you looking down at my phone, watching you out of the corner of my eye, hoping you can't tell. I look, but I'm not looking.

I see out of the corner of my eye, that you take one hand off your book, and you bring it to your shirt, and you undo one, then a second button. Holy shit. I can't believe what I'm seeing.

Oh my god. Now the top three buttons on your shirt are open. I can see your bra underneath your shirt.

I can see the tops of your breasts. I can see your chest heaving. Oh my god.

I can feel myself growing harder and harder in my pants right in front of your face. Oh my god. How does it feel knowing that you can turn me on so much, that you can make me hard just by being there, that you can get me so excited just by unbuttoning a couple buttons on your shirt.

You catch me looking, and you smile again, this time a knowing smile, less nervous than the first, more confident, more playful. I catch you looking at my cock, and I give you back the same smile. Do you like the sight of it? Do you like the sight of my cock right in front of your eyes, behind my pants? Knowing that my erection is because of you, is entirely because of you, because of what your body and your face, what your eyes do to me.

I so want to do more. I want to talk to you, I want to ask you for your number, I want to ask you your name, but I'm so nervous. And so when it comes time for my stop, I turn around, and I exit again, just like I have the previous three days.

My cock's still hard in my pants again. And again I walk home, alone. On Friday, there you are again.

You're wearing a dress this time, and you look fucking amazing. I sit down across from you, and this time we don't even pretend. We both smile, confidently, knowing that we're both attracted to each other.

The shyness that I felt the night before when I decided not to speak to you is gone. I thought back over the last four days, the last four nights, and I've come to the conclusion that you want it. That you want me.

That you want what I can give you. The dress goes down to your knee, as I sit across from you, but I notice that after a little bit, you spread open your legs a little bit for me, and you hike up your skirt to dress for me. I can't see as far as I'd like to, but I can see the insides of your legs, the bottoms of your thighs, the skin that I've grown to like so much.

And you look at me and you smile. You have your book in your lap, and now you're holding it with one hand. And you put your other hand down below it, over your dress, over your panty, over your pussy.

And I watch you push against your pussy with your finger. And you look at me as you do it, letting me know that you're growing wet just at the sight of me. That I'm not alone, that my erection at the sight of you is reciprocated.

It's coming time for my stop. You too are wondering what happens next. You were disappointed the night before, when I didn't ask you for your number, when I didn't speak to you.

And you're worried now that the week is going to end, and that I'm never going to make a move. But this time, my stop comes, and it goes. And I remain there, on a train sitting across from you.

At first you're surprised. You know which one is my stop. You were clearly expecting me to get up, but I don't.

And then you get excited about what this could mean, nervous at the same time. You wait, sitting there, with your hand in your crotch, on your pussy. You can feel yourself growing wet for me, fantasizing about me, wondering what I have in mind.

Finally, your stop comes. You get up to leave, with enough advance notice that I know this is your stop. You're so nervous.

You have no idea what I'm going to do. As you're walking toward the door, you notice that I stand up. And I start to walk toward you.

And then I walk out the door, right behind you. And then a crowd of people also get off with you, as they always do. Your excitement grows.

Somehow, in the crowd of people going up the escalators, you lose sight of me. You assumed that I was right behind you. But when you get to the top of the escalators, you don't see me.

You look around, but I'm not there. And you start to panic inside. And you can feel the disappointment growing, knowing that your satisfaction at having your fantasies fulfilled will not happen.

And what makes things even worse is when you emerge from the station, when you stand at the doors to the station, and you look out, and you see that it's pouring rain. You can feel your heart just fall. He didn't even bring an umbrella today.

He didn't even know it was supposed to rain. As you watch everyone around you take out their umbrellas and go into the street, you suddenly hear next to you, my voice. Would you like to share my umbrella? I say.

You look over at me, smiling at you, with confidence, with unconditional desire. And you can barely make out the sound of your voice when you say yes. And I say to you, where can I take you? And you tell me to your car.

So you direct me through the rain to your car in the parking lot. It's a big parking lot, so we have a ways to go. I hold my umbrella in my right hand.

I make sure you're completely covered. And I take your hand with my left. I hold it gently, softly.

I love the feel of your skin as we walk through the rain together. As we approach your car, you begin to grow nervous, wondering what's going to happen. Will I leave you and not get your number? You ask me if we should go get a drink, or coffee, or dinner, or anything.

You're desperate not to let this end, not to let this opportunity pass. You can feel yourself growing wet on the walk to the car. The same wetness is back that you felt on the train for me, that you felt on the train for me all week.

And we finally get to your car. And you go around to the back. And you open up the back.

On the driver's side, the back seat, to put your bag down. That's where you always put your bag. You say, it's just right here.

To me, as we approach the car, you open that door. You put your bag down on the floor behind the driver's seat. And you turn around to me, there in the rain, with the door open.

Me holding the umbrella over you. And you look back up at me. And I look back down at you.

And I take my hand that's not holding the umbrella. And I touch your side with it. I look down at your side.

I take my hand and I slowly move it up, your body, to your breast. And I cup your breast in my hand. I squeeze your nipple and I hear you moan.

Standing there in the rain outside your car. I take my hand and I put it up your neck. My hand around your neck.

To your chin. And I look down at you. And I move my face towards you.

And I bring my lips against yours. And I start to kiss you. And you take your arms and you wrap them around me.

And you bring me in closer and we kiss. My lips wrapped around yours. My lips wrapped around your tongue.

Your lips wrapped around my tongue. Kissing passionately. All that desire.

All that fucking desire. We've both been feeling for each other. Starting to let itself out.

Starting to let itself go. Oh my God, your lips taste so good, baby. I can't wait.

I say it to you. I don't even mean to say it out loud. I can't wait.

I turn you around right there. The door opens to your car. Still holding the umbrella.

You bend down. Into the back seat. I throw the fucking umbrella down.

I take both hands. And I pull up the back of your dress. Oh, fuck.

I open my zipper. And I take out my fucking cock right there in the parking lot. I take your panties to the side.

I hear you say, do it. Do it. I reach down with my hand.

And I feel your wet pussy. Look how fucking wet you are. Holy shit.

I take my cock. Oh my God, baby. Your pussy feels so fucking good.

Just slamming into your pussy from behind. My hands on your hips. Oh, I'm getting fucking silky wet standing there.

It feels so fucking good. Does it feel good? Does it feel fucking good? Yeah? You want to get down on your knees on the fucking seat? Yeah.

Yeah, so you get down on your knees on the seat. I'm still standing outside. Oh, and you stick your ass up into the air for me.

Right at this fucking height of my cock. Oh my God, you look so fucking good. Do you like that? You want to get fucked in the car just like that? With a stranger on the train? Oh my God.

Can you feel how much I want you? Can you feel how hard I am inside you? Fucking stretching you out? Pounding that pussy? Yeah.

This is how you've been fantasizing about getting fucked? Oh my God, your pussy feels so good, baby. You want me to slap that ass? Is that what you want? You want me to slap it? How does that feel, God? Yeah.

Oh my God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good. Oh God, yeah. You like to get pounded like that? Have you been dreaming about doing this to you all week? Holy fuck.

Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want. Is this what you want to? Is this what you wanted? You want me to fuck you in the car like this? Yeah.

Tell me what else you want. Yeah? Do you want me to come inside you right there in the car? Yeah, you don't even fucking care if anyone watches.

You don't even care if anyone can hear us. Hear me pound you. Hear my fucking balls slip against your fucking clit.

Yeah. Do you want to hear what it feels like? Do you want to hear what it sounds like? For me to come inside your pussy right there in the car? Yeah? Is that what you want? Yeah? Yeah? Yeah? You're going to come with me? Yeah, I want you to feel it.

I want you to come. I want to come. Just feel it.

Feel it. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Holy fuck. Oh, my God. Our fucking cum is dripping down on your back seat.

I can feel it coming out of your pussy. Oh, my God, you feel so fucking good. You look so good below me.

Oh, my God, I love the way you back that ass up into me. They pull out. Cum fucking drips everywhere.

Oh, my God. Slap your ass with my cock a little bit. I can hear you moaning.

You're breathing still fast. You haven't turned back to me. Your ass is still up in the air.

Oh. Oh. Would you like to get some coffee? I say and laugh.

Finally, you look back at me. And you smile that smile.