mrs_mackenzie
Should be writing
- Joined
- Oct 18, 2020
- Posts
- 285
The hydraulic hiss of the train door mechanism made me look up, followed by the low roar of the doors closing. I looked up and I saw him, and it was love at first sight.
The Drain was packed at this time on a Monday morning; all the stockbrokers and City workers were on their way in from Surrey and I was on the periphery, squeezed into a corner, my suitcase wedged between my feet. He was standing closest to the door, his arm wrapped around the rail, absorbed in a book. I couldn’t see the title, but I knew it would be something lightly intellectual, the kind of thing he’d casually bring up in bed as we caught our breath and pillow-talked, talking in a low voice while I gently played with his soft cock. Then he’d grunt with desire and we’d begin round two.
In his other hand was his briefcase, black, unremarkable. What was in it? Would his wife have put in a slim packet of sandwiches for him to eat as he stood astride the world’s financial markets, or would he go out for lunch, slipping out to meet me at a little tucked away Greek place? Only he seemed to know about it: he’d greet the owner in an understated way and then order for me, knowing what the best items on the menu were instinctively. Then perhaps we’d find an alley on the way back and I’d stand on his briefcase while he gripped me tightly from behind and fucked me, my skirt hiked up, his hand over my mouth to hold in my screams…
I bit my lip and he turned the page. He was really good-looking, with sandy hair and blue eyes, a smiling mouth and a studious expression. Perhaps he had a big presentation with the investment committee this morning and he was reading to keep his mind off it. The presentation would go well, I was sure of it. To celebrate, I’d wait for him in his office, on my knees, ready to immediately slide his gorgeous cock out of his pants and lick once, base to tip, slowly and tortuously, my eyes fixed on his, not wavering for a moment until he had to moan, his body filling with lust for me as I placed a firm, full kiss directly onto the tip…
“The next station is Bank,” the electronic woman’s voice said, the train braking. The man closed his book and glanced in my direction. I smiled politely, and he did too. Then the train drew to a stop, the Drain began to empty and I watched him go, book in one hand, briefcase in the other, knowing I wouldn’t see him again.
The Drain was packed at this time on a Monday morning; all the stockbrokers and City workers were on their way in from Surrey and I was on the periphery, squeezed into a corner, my suitcase wedged between my feet. He was standing closest to the door, his arm wrapped around the rail, absorbed in a book. I couldn’t see the title, but I knew it would be something lightly intellectual, the kind of thing he’d casually bring up in bed as we caught our breath and pillow-talked, talking in a low voice while I gently played with his soft cock. Then he’d grunt with desire and we’d begin round two.
In his other hand was his briefcase, black, unremarkable. What was in it? Would his wife have put in a slim packet of sandwiches for him to eat as he stood astride the world’s financial markets, or would he go out for lunch, slipping out to meet me at a little tucked away Greek place? Only he seemed to know about it: he’d greet the owner in an understated way and then order for me, knowing what the best items on the menu were instinctively. Then perhaps we’d find an alley on the way back and I’d stand on his briefcase while he gripped me tightly from behind and fucked me, my skirt hiked up, his hand over my mouth to hold in my screams…
I bit my lip and he turned the page. He was really good-looking, with sandy hair and blue eyes, a smiling mouth and a studious expression. Perhaps he had a big presentation with the investment committee this morning and he was reading to keep his mind off it. The presentation would go well, I was sure of it. To celebrate, I’d wait for him in his office, on my knees, ready to immediately slide his gorgeous cock out of his pants and lick once, base to tip, slowly and tortuously, my eyes fixed on his, not wavering for a moment until he had to moan, his body filling with lust for me as I placed a firm, full kiss directly onto the tip…
“The next station is Bank,” the electronic woman’s voice said, the train braking. The man closed his book and glanced in my direction. I smiled politely, and he did too. Then the train drew to a stop, the Drain began to empty and I watched him go, book in one hand, briefcase in the other, knowing I wouldn’t see him again.