That's my world, and welcome to it.
Living as I said in a major metropolitan city can be taxing at times; however the perks that one picks up in relation to art, culture and the vibe of life is exhilarating. Getting around is somewhat of a hassle, but that's where our story continues.
Ben had contacted me in the usual way with a somewhat unusual request, one that I felt may break the rules of my 'company', but hey - he's the boss.
Without giving anything away as to where we were, lets just say that the city has a subway and for the sake of argument, that it's routes are labeled by color.
Since this was my city, I knew my way around, but when Ben emailed me the specifics, I was a bit hesitant: meet the contact in the subway on the Purple line after the, oh shall we say, Main Street stop at 9:15 in the morning.
Usually, the subway is pretty crowded at Main, but the directions were clear: the contact would be dressed just like any other business man, except that he would be leaning against one of the poles and would be wearing one black sock and one brown.
I was to say nothing, except to sidle up to him and pleasure him there discreetly.
An interesting prospect to say the least, with elements of naughtiness and possible embarrassing humiliation at being caught as well.
Wanting to calm myself before this strangely dangerous encounter, and wondering how I would perform my job in front of so many people (!), I decided to ford the waters of rush hour by starting off riding the subway from one side of town to the other, with all the requisite stops and transfers that would put me on the Purple Line at Main Street at the exact time required.
The slow bump and grind of the subway car over the rails began to exhilarate me, and I wondered if any other women that traversed this route on a daily basis allowed herself to be sexually excited by the movement of the train, with it's swish swish, bump bump back and forth motion. Try it sometime where you're on one. Close out all the other passengers around you and just suppose that the subway car is some sort of giant and you're sitting in his lap as he ambles along.
Swish swish, bump bump.
By now my pussy was getting pretty wet from all the shaking and rattling, and the Main Street stop was fast approaching. Much to my chagrin so had the rider count. Certainly more than a few people exited the train at the Main Street stop, but many more got on.
The doors slipped almost silently shut and low and behold, there a businessman began to lean on one of the poles.
Moving from the position I was holding near the opposite door, I moved closer to see his socks, but damned if his suit pants were covering them. Feigning the recovery of a fumbled cell phone at my contacts feet, I bent down as the train lurched forward, just in time for Mr. Businessman to catch himself enough to show me that indeed, he did have mismatched socks beneath his pants. I wondered what ELSE was beneath his pants, slut that I am.
Standing back up after recovering the cell phone, I sidled next to the guy on the pole. Since the Main Street stop, ridership in the car had increased exponentially which made my job a bit easier since all the seats were filled and many remained standing.
Having taken this subway line before, I knew that there was a portion of rough track ahead where several subway lines intersected and traversed crossovers and switches. Perfect timing!
As the cars began to lurch to and fro (swish swish, bump bump) I decided to reach turn my body sideways and reach down to grab Mr. Businessman's cock through his light wool pants. Mr. Businessman raised his head from the paper he was reading, his left eyebrow shooting skyward as my hand began to stroke his cock. Remaining nonchalant, I was looking out the window or staring at the ads plastered all over the car, just like everyone else. As I said, it was a bit crowded and there really IS nothing much else to do. I looked just like everyone else.
Mr. Businessman really didn't react all that much as his head quickly went back to the paper he was reading, and I continued the long stroke.
Mmmm. I love a man who wears silk boxers, and a stiff cock is easier to stroke through pants where he is wearing them.
Bump bump, swish swish. Back and forth, back and forth.
Harder and harder Mr. Businessman's cock got through that combination of silk and wool, and hotter and hotter my pussy got thinking about if anyone else saw what I was doing.
Suddenly, Mr. Businessman's head rose and tilted into the air from his paper, his eyes closed and I heard several small grunts issue from his throat as the cock in my hand got über stiff and then suddenly much slipperier.
Vermont Circle was approaching, and I guess this was my cue to get off the subway. Frankly, I most certainly wanted to get off that subway car with its swish swish and bump bump so I could get off on my own. God I was horny by that point!
Exiting the subway car at just the last moment before the doors closed, I glanced backwards to see that Mr. Businessman had stopped reading the newspaper and instead had folded it up and was holding it quite tightly at his crotch.
"Another mission accomplished, another client satisfied,” I thought with a smirk as I hurried up the escalator to cross the tracks in order to catch the subway going the other way. There I go again: going up and going down. Now isn't that the story of my life?
Riding back to the station where I left my car gave me quite some time to think, and indeed my hands found their way to my pussy, touching her lips gently with the sway of the train. Since there were fewer people on this train I decided to practice a little frottage and stood hugging a pole between my breasts as the train lurched back and forth. If you're a woman, I highly recommend this type of masturbation whenever you can get away with it. Just stand with your body back a bit from it, and let the pole hit your tits and nipples as the subway car sways back and forth.
Conversely, you can grind your pussy into the same pole for a sensation that you will not soon forget.
Did I mention that I missed my stop?
Climbing out of the subway station and into the bright sunlight, my cell phone finally caught a signal and alerted me that I had missed a few calls and messages during my little subterranean adventure; one of them was an urgent text message from Ben.
I was a bit puzzled for a second after reading it, and then I realized what had happened.
Ben's message was simple and direct: "Where were you? Our client said you didn't show up for the 'meeting'".
I guess lots of businessmen make the mistake of getting dressed in the dark.