Monday, January 14, 2008

The Train

In 2008 I am changing. I have to fix the things that make me shy and shy away from doing stuff. One of those things is pretty simple - just looking at people. Until very recently, I would catch almost no one's eyes. I would do my best to focus on pretty much everything except a person's eyes or face.

Once I felt comfortable with someone, I could look at their eyes without any problem, but few people stick around that long. So it makes for bad first impressions.

So, now, when I remember, I make a conscious effort to smile and look at people. Not just around people, or the ground.

This brings me to current transport circumstances. The city has opened a new railway line, which is of great benefit to me, and using it forces me to be around other people. Tricky at first, I have overcome the initial jitters and now strike up conversations with random strangers. Big accomplishment for me.

Anyway, my cock does fit into this story at some point.

Waiting at Central for a train home, I see a girl walk past. She was wearing a sun dress. As a garment, I find the sun dress to be very arousing. I like the way it falls into the angles of a girl's legs. The very mini skirts of the porn world also works, but is quite uncommon in real life and doesn't leave much to the imagination. She wore a red bra, the cups of which were cut quite low. Her bag had all sorts of slogans and badges pinned to it, some causes of which I am involved in myself.

The train rolled in and I wanted to see if I could snag a seat near her, maybe even strike up a conversation. However, the new line operates two services. One goes all the way, one goes half way. Either gets me to my station, and the train that had just pulled in was a half way one. The mystery girl didn't get on, so I guess she needed to go further. The half way trains usually use crappy old railcars and during the middle of the day, it is not uncommon to have 3 people in a 4 car train. This day it was a staggering 6, and I was the only one in the first car.

She was sitting on the platform, and I picked a seat on the train that would give me a view. Her red hair was dead straight and ran to the bottom of her neck. At school, university, in fact pretty much everywhere, I've seen girls deftly smooth out their clothes so that the bits they are supposed to be covered remain covered. No doubt something picked up from years of practice.

But I noticed this girl made no effort to correct her dress. Some random hiss from this shit train blew it up her legs a few inches. This didn't distract her from her reading. She moved her leg a bit to scratch, and still was reading. Whenever I've seen girls sit on the ground, wearing a skirt, it is in almost any position besides legs at a 90° angle to their back. Mystery girl was sitting with her legs at 90° to her back and about 20° apart.

Marvelling at her free-spiritedness, I looked down the length of the train and saw four of the 6 getting off. I guess they didn't read the destination boards. Just me and some other person 2 cars down.

For a few seconds I contemplated being someone who got on the wrong train, and jumping off in an attempt to talk to the mystery girl. If it had happened today, I think I would have. But that day it seemed to be a bigger step than it would have been.

I looked back to mystery girl and caught a glimpse. A glimpse of a beautiful vagina behind some red panties that appeared to match her bra. The train hissed some more and the doors began to shut. I was hoping she would look up, with the protection of a steel tube about to hurtle down a tunnel, if ever there was a time I could try looking into eyes, with no reason to feel nervous, now was the time.

But no. She never looked up. I wonder if she knew, or if she even cared.

The trip home I kept thinking of her and my cock voted that these were thoughts it could agree with. I knew full well that these old junker railcars had no security devices, and it would be accurate to assume that the thought of jerking off right there on the train passed through my head. But I did not. The crappy railcars rattle and shudder a fair bit. Combined with a brain thinking about sex, those shimmies and vibrations find their mark without too much difficulty. All things considered I could have stroked away without problems, the other person got off at the first station (a mere 3 minutes away) and I was a good 20 minutes down the line. I was also the only person on the train for the rest of the trip. Given that, I guess public decency got the better of me.

Arriving home, I quickly dropped my pants and began to masturbate. I don't know the differences between cleavage. There is the type where both breasts are pushed close up together, leaving no gap, and the type where there is a distinct valley. Whichever the latter is called is what the mystery girl had that day. How nice it would have been to straddle across her mid section and have her pump away, spewing a load into that valley.

I hope I see her again!


Rae said...

Fabulous story! Wow.

That was really written in a lovely way...

I wish I were that girl...but I would have probably looked up. :-)

wanklogger said...

I wish you were there!

Tasman said...

When I was a young boy, I would hunt out the women with cleavage so that the picture was firm in my mind as I wanked myself to sleep.

Mike Stewart said...

Ah if I had a dime for each of the women I've fantasized about on public transit and later masturbated to...I would be a rich fucking man! What a bunch of great fantasies and great ejaculations though! At age 67 nothing much has changed....I still want to fuck them all! Thank you Jesus for the wonderful sport of masturbation!