I Saw You

Red Line, Sheridan Stop: Edition #1

Red Line, Sheridan Stop

July 10, 2009, 5:10pm

Spotted by The Vamp

You got on the train and sat in the seat directly in front you me. Upon sitting down, you promptly pulled out some mindless celebrity publication from your oversized purse and lost yourself in the glossy pages.

One look at you tells me how important you value your Hollywood gossip. Also evident is your need to fit in by following whatever fashion trends are fed to your perfectly shaped mouth. Your loose fitting floral dress exposes a well-maintained tan, complimented by waves of highlighted blonde and pale pink manicured fingers and toes.

I bet you’ve kissed a few girls after a couple drinks and a little encouragement from a male audience. I bet you liked the attention and maybe you even liked the feel of a women’s soft body press against yours. Perhaps you even let your hands wander around to explore and caress areas you know you should not.

The train descends below ground now, and I’m growing rather annoyed watching you hungrily flip through the pages of your trashy magazine. I think about what mundane thoughts run through your pretty, but limited mind. I become aroused imaging how much fun it would be to teach you a few lessons about being a dim witted slut. About being an artless tease.

I don’t imagine it would be very hard to lure you back to my apartment. Alluding to some connection to your favorite magazine or appealing to your vanity should be enough. My face deceives my thoughts and I know how to get what I want. Once inside, I’d let you think you were safe for a little bit. Offer you a diet coke.

Feeling myself getting increasingly wet, I think about pushing you against my kitchen counter and placing my lips against yours. You’d seemed shocked, as I softly bit down on your bottom lip and then slowly parted them. You might push me back at that point, but I would only then press myself against you more firmly. Much weaker than myself, this is not going to be easy for you.

You’d likely be putting up some sort of resistance now, your mouth might say one thing but your body would tell me another story. I’d slide my fingers up your thigh, and under your dress. I would push your dampened panties aside and delicately slide my fingers around your clearly aroused cunt…

You quietly let out a soft moan. “I thought you wanted me to stop?” I ask. You nod to tell me you do, but I just laugh at you now. You’re breathing heavily into my ear and attempting to push yourself further onto my fingers. I don’t let you. I hold you firmly back against the counter and begin toying with your clit between my fingers. You’re panting now. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fuck you?” You tell me no again and again. “Please no. Let me go”. At this point I’ve had about enough of your halfhearted ‘no’s. I move my other hand up to your throat, gently squeeze to remind you who is in control.

“Now, I’m going to ask you one more time, do you want me to fuck you?” With my hand gripped tightly around your throat, you make a small groan but offer no real response. “Think hard about your answer”, I warn. I’m going to have a hard time believing ‘no’ again, as your arch your back to press your dripping wet pussy towards my hand. You divert your eyes away from mine, and quietly whisper “yes”. I ask you to repeat yourself, because I want to hear more clearly how much of a slut you are. “Yes. I want you to fuck me”.

I yank open a near by drawer and pull out some rope. In case you change your mind about this, I bind your hands above your head to the cabinetry hardware. Looking utterly terrified, I can’t help but snicker at you when I reach back downwards and my hand is greeted by your further increased wetness.

Moving my hands to your full breasts, I squeeze them intensely. As your nipples harden, I begin to playfully lick and then suck them. You begin to kick and whimper, exclaiming it tickles too much, and that you’re too sensitive. If this is going to be the case, I’ll have to bind your legs to the lower cabinetry pulls. I can’t have you thrashing around. You beg me not to, and I agree under that condition you no longer move your feet off the floor.

Not going anywhere soon, I have to admire my work for a moment but I think I’ve teased you almost long enough. I begin to rub your clit again. You moan loudly and push your hips forward at me. “Alright you pathetic whore, I’ll give you want”, I then slide two fingers deep into your warm, tight opening. I slide them in and out slowly, as I massage your clit with my other hand. You moan louder and try to lift yourself forward, greedily hoping to push my fingers deeper inside.

Harder I fuck your pussy, and I can feel you tense up from the inside. You begin to shake a little and plead at me not to stop. Suddenly, an obnoxious digital approximation of the Sex and the City theme rings through my ears. Clearly not conjured by my fantasy, I’m brought back to my velvety blue and stained seat. “Yah, of course. I’ll be there in like, 5 minutes. P.J. Clarke’s right?” I hear you say. The train comes to an abrupt stop and I wish there was a way I could’ve wagered on this departure.