“You know, I found Dr. Kazanowski’s profile, and I totally regret it.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say I feel like I know way too much about him now.” That got him some laughs.
I wonder what he would even put online for everyone to see. It can’t be that crazy. Luisa clenched her thighs tighter around her pussy, then released, feeling her panties get wetter. She repeated at a more rapid pace, again and again, forgetting her worry that someone might notice her pleasure.
What if I took pictures? What if these guys saw me and told their friends? The next station came. Eight stops to go. Luisa slowed down, and she turned around to face the window, trying to keep her legs steady. The students filed out of the trailer car, and so did almost everyone else aside from the man with his book.
But what would I do if my coworkers found out about this? My boss? Wouldn’t they shame me? Wouldn’t I lose my job for being a dirty slut? The train started again, almost throwing her off her feet. Luisa grabbed the handrail and righted herself with the help of an older woman about her age beside her.
“Sorry!”
“It’s okay,” the woman said with a smile that made her eyes crease. The stranger’s morning cheer dissipated instantly, and she returned to standing stiff and staring ahead.
Grateful the conversation ended there, Luisa’s heart leapt as she put distance between her and the other passengers, walking to the other end of the car. She walked past the man with his book, who glanced up at her. She met his gaze, catching it out of the corner of her eye. He looked back down.
What is he looking at? Does he know?
Luisa made it to the opposite end and stood by one window, faced away from the rest of the car, and tilted her body toward the window. She lifted her sweater again to expose her tits to the dark tunnel just beyond the cold glass.
I need to stop getting distracted. I need to come right here.
Her pussy oozed as the side of her breast tingled at the touch of the cool glass. Goosebumps raised on her soft skin. The heat in her abdomen and the cold biting her chest made for an erotic contrast. For the next few stops, she only grew bolder. She would not drop the hem of her sweater back down with each announcement. Instead, Luisa paid attention to the change in lighting and the sound of the screeching rail as the operator pumped the brakes. She waited for the last moment to cover herself.
By five stops to go, her clit pulsated against her panties without stopping. The constant reminder that she couldn’t just thrust her hand into her slacks and rub one out drove her wild. Passengers packed the trailer car at the next stop, so she was obscured by a sea of bodies. The swarm of people emanated with heat and made her that much more aware of the sweat trapped under her pants. Showing off my boobs now might be too obvious, but maybe I can finally get off!
Luisa slung her messenger bag strap back over her other shoulder so that the strap crossed her body. Then, she moved the bag over the crotch of her pants, all the while glancing around to see if others noticed her movements. An old woman caught her eye, then looked away to keep talking to an old man in Spanish. Still anxious, Luisa hesitated at first. I don’t have forever to do this. She stared ahead and away from any faces as she stirred her right arm at her side to creep her hand behind the bag, toward her pussy. Luisa kept her hand over her clothes.
When her fingers traced over the bump in her slacks where her clit throbbed, Luisa’s hand stopped there. The spot just underneath felt damp to the touch. She drew in the quietest breath she could through her nose and held it.
The train rumbled all around her, barreling onward, as she curled two fingers up and down to rub her clit. Whenever she masturbated in private, Luisa loved two things–pressure and speed. Her hand flying fast over her pussy with her fingers pressed hard against her clit, rubbing the surrounding skin raw the longer she felt herself for. It would always be worth it for a quick, explosive orgasm.
On the train, she could only move as fast as possible without budging her arm, which meant only curling her fingers and keeping her wrist and elbow stiff. To make up for it, her fingers had set firm against her clit and stroked hard lines over her pants along the little head, but it wasn’t enough. The tease made her throb again–this time it ached–as Luisa felt more fluid drooling from her pussy.
As the train completed the next three stops, Luisa wouldn’t stop touching herself. Her desire turned into a need. She would keep her pace and only slow down not because she reached a terminal, but if she thought her movements had become too suspicious. People stepped on and off at every station, but her train car never emptied out again. Her mind raced.
Doesn’t this look weird? My hand behind my bag?
I really need to come… Wouldn’t someone notice?
I don’t want to stop.
I have to stop.
I won’t.
Luisa’s fingers curled under the weight of her bag. The pressure on her clit increased. Her nerves spiked. A tide of warmth flooded the pit of her belly, washing downward to soak her panties through. Her nails scraped over the wet patch on the crotch of her slacks. To her anxiety, the bag bumped up and down a fraction of an inch with her every move. The pleasure shooting through her with every stroke outweighed the fear of being caught. Still, that terror crept up on her as the train began to slow down again.
At the second to last stop, Luisa quit touching herself. The train shrieked as it pulled into the station. Half the train car poured out as just as many people stuffed themselves in–even more than that–flooding the seats, the aisle, the front and back ends, and grabbing hold of any part of the railing they could without brushing someone else’s hand. Someone was pressed against her right arm. Everyone was headed to the final stop. Her stop.
Chaos whirled around her. A disheveled woman hurled curses at the top of her lungs from the back of the car. A young man slouched in his seat played his music so loud, it thumped through his headphones. His neighbor leaned away from him and complained into his phone. Eyes landed on hers every few seconds. Or was it only once in a while? Every time someone shoved past in front of her, the fabric of her pants creased and shifted against her pussy. One little move would relieve the stimulation, only to make a gap in the gusset of her panties where her come was pooling. For all the noise thrumming in the air, Luisa couldn’t take her mind off the blood thumping in her hard clit.
She turned away from the crowd and stared into the darkness out the window. White lights flashed past in her peripheral vision at top speed. Desperate, Luisa held onto the horizontal, fingerprint-smeared railing and pressed her groin onto it. Her clit throbbed against the cold metal, barely protected by her slacks and thin panties. By that point, she started hoping that the firm touch would stop her swollen clit from brushing her clothes too much, but it was too late. Wave after helpless wave of pleasure wracked her body as she waited for the final stop to come.