Strangers on a Train part 1

“Goddamnit!” I muttered to myself frustrated and exhausted as I emerged from the the revolving doors of the towering steel and glass skyscraper where I had spent another grueling day fighting the good fight known as advertising.

The foggy drizzle that had been a persistent nuisance all day had finally given way to a full on deluge and I had forgotten to bring an umbrella to work with me this morning. “Better just make a run for it ,” I thought as I pulled the New York Times broadsheet from my tan calfskin attaché and fashioned it into a makeshift barrier between me and the elements. At 33yrs of age, I was no longer the 18yr old specimen I once was, but daily boxing session with a personal trainer had kept me in excellent shape and therefore, a little sprint was of no concern. I dashed towards the subway entrance a couple of blocks away, clutching my briefcase close to my 6′ frame, holding my Makintosh overcoat closed, hoping that yesterday’s news would do an adequate job masquerading as today’s umbrella.
Regardless of the inclement weather, New York’s streets were still typically crammed with all the usual urban suspects: throngs of tourists managing to huddle in all of the most frustrating places in order to stare up at the cloud covered edifices that make top the imposing skyline; business men in their bespoke suits and topcoats clutching oversized golf umbrellas as they make futile efforts to hale rush hour cabs; hawkers, street merchants, and food vendors selling all means of knick-knick and foodstuff from under tarpped street carts; and every other type of miscreant, oddball, teenager, and worker bee that make up New York’s endless patchwork all in a rush to somewhere. I pinballed through the eclectic crowd avoiding any major collisions, finally arriving at the stairs that lead down to the F train back to Brooklyn.
After ditching the fully saturated, ink-smeared Times in one of the overflowing bins and swiping my metro card I arrived at the platform to find an impenetrable sea of people all waiting for the same train. “Great,” I thought, “I had to be hip and move out to that Loft in Brooklyn instead of just buying that condo in the City… I could’ve walked home!” Well, I had no choice now, so I attempted to navigate through the damp crowd, timing it just right so that I was able to board an arriving train and grab a prime rush hour position leaning against the door. Wedged in like sardines I was contented to just stare down at the ground avoiding eye contact for the duration of my 7 stop commute to DUMBO.
The familiar mildewy heavy smell associated with cold wet humans contained in a warm tight space began to penetrate my olfactory sense when I caught I whiff of something sweet and feminine. So wrapped up in my own personal misery, I failed to notice the stunning figure who must have boarded the train shortly after me. Although she was facing away from me, it was obvious that she was confidant and sexy, her long neck inches from my face and her round legging covered ass pushed lightly against my upper thigh in the painfully stuffed subway car. Her designer boots and stylish raincoat and scarf hinted at a european sophistication that immediately marked her as either a NYC local or a visitor from fashion forward cultural center somewhere overseas.
I could see over her shoulder that she was studying a guide book in what appeared to be Spanish, which made sense considering her olive complexion and obsidian hair that she wore tied up in a haphazard way that seemed effortless but must have taken her hours in the morning to perfect. “A tourist, ” I thought, “probably here with a boyfriend or something… no point in trying to talk to her,” as if the mind your own business mentality so deeply ingrained in every native New Yorker would ever allow me to start a conversation with a stranger on a crowded subway. Well, at least I had an excuse not to embarrass myself.
Then suddenly, as trains tend to do, the car jolted and rocked and the mysterious stranger fell backwards against me, her soft ass landing square on the head of my cock, which had been laying dormant along the inside of my thigh. I dropped my briefcase and instinctively reached out to brace her fall, catching her elbows and cradling her into my body keeping her from slipping to the wet floor. Still slumped against me, she turned her neck, looked up at me with improbably large brown almond eyes, her long eyelashes fluttered and she whispered an embarrassed “I’m so sorry…uhhh thank you” in a raspy Castilian accent that sent a pulse through my body.
“Don’t mention it,” i replied trying to sound composed as I helped this heavenly creature back to her high-heeled feet.
Turning around now, her face just below mine, she offered a shy smile. Due to our proximity to one another in the congested swampy car, her perky cashmere sweater clad breasts brushed repeatedly against my upper abs as the train rocked back and forth and we slowly started making small talk.
“… wait, so you’re telling me, you’re here in New York alone???” I asked shocked that such a perfect vision would ever be alone anywhere. Women like this always had men with them and a man would never let a woman like this out of his sight.
Over the next few stops, as the train raced towards my eventual terminus, I learned that Sofia was indeed here from Barcelona where she had begrudgingly left her fiancé in order to come to NYC and work on her phD. “I just arrived here yesterday,” she offered in a meek but lush voice. “I’m renting a room near Pratt in an old house, but other than the nice old landlady, I don’t yet know anyone here… Its only been two days and I already feel so alone…”
Her eyes fell away from my stare momentarily and I could tell she was a little embarrassed at how forward she was being. Being the chivalrous gentleman I am, I immediately consoled her,
“I’m sorry to hear that, but hey, you know me now.”
“That is true,” she giggled. “And it is really nice to meet you she added with a devilish grin.
My stop was rapidly approaching and I had to act fast if I wanted to keep this conversation going. It’s incredible, that in a city with as many people as New York, its almost impossible to meet anyone, and I wasn’t going to let this godsend slip away that easily.
“I know this sounds ridiculously forward,” I started, “but would it be crazy if I invited you over for dinner tonight? I mean, I know we just met, and you barely know me, but I have some simple food at home and some wine and I’d be happy to whip up a home cooked meal for you.”
Wow, I couldn’t believe I had said that. There’s no way a beautiful woman like this would just come home with a stranger she had just met on a train. I must be out of my mind I thought. But then, as her heavy lidded gold flecked chocolate eyes once again met mine, she blushed, smiled and replied much to my delight, “That would be very nice…. I was just going to order pizza again.”
Immediately my mind began to flood with all the images of what I was hoping would happen later, imagining her perfect tan body, her full red lips kissing their way down my firm muscular stomach, her soft touch on my skin… and just like that I started to feel that familiar feeling as the blood started rushing and my flaccid cock began to inflate, not fully, but enough so that the tent in my wool suit pants would have been obvious if she hadn’t been standing so close blocking the other passengers’ views. Luckily, before she was able to seem to take notice of what was happening a few feet below where our eyes had been locked, the doors opened at York St.
“Well, this is it, ” I said turning away to face the opening doors and exit the train.