Disclaimer: There is no violence in this installment. However, there is some graphic sex. I do not make reference to the young woman doffing her hijab before so engaging; this was an oversight on my part, and not done intentionally to cause offense.
Continued from Part 3.
Ricky’s heart leapt as he savored the feeling of her wetness on his fingertips. He moved his thumb slowly over her clit in a slow, deliberate motion. As the woman’s moans grew in desperation and intensity, the sound filled the empty train car, and he slowly penetrated her, pressing against her soft flesh with his fingers as his thumb continued to rotate. It had been a long time since he’d touched a woman in this fashion, and he wasn’t surprised to find that he suddenly had no trouble concentrating on the task at hand.
As he touched her, Ricky could tell that she was already engorged, and now so was he. He was relieved by his arousal; he had heard that erectile difficulties might have been a side effect of a traumatic head injury, but apparently he had managed to sidestep that fate. In fact, so profound was his excitement that he wondered if it was in any way linked to the fact that the world had six fewer Nazis in it than it did ten minutes earlier. It wasn’t unthinkable; the young woman whose wetness was now dripping over his fingers and down her bare, warm thighs appeared to have been turned on specifically by the ass-kicking that had just been handed out.
Maybe the high level of sexual arousal was to be expected given the experience they had just shared. Ricky yearned to feel her release, to experience that with her as well. To know what she sounded like when she came. To know how she would respond physically. He imagined her clutching him tightly as convulsions of pleasure wracked her body. He imagined her trembling to the sound of deep and impassioned moans. As he continued to strum her with able fingers he saw her eyeing the bulge in his pants, and by the time she reached out to knead it with the heel of her hand he was throbbing.
All at once, the woman’s hands scrambled for his belt and unbuckled it without delay. Her heart raced as his unoccupied hand worked alongside hers, hurriedly unfastening his belt, unbuttoning his pants, and pulling them open. In seconds her hands were inside his boxer briefs, both grasping his hard, veiny cock. He savored the sensation, and as he raised his ass off the seat and stripped off his pants, she took off her shoes and her own pants as well. She left them all in a pile on the floor of the subway car, then raised one leg up to his seat, showing him everything.
She spoke two words: “Fuck me.”
By the time it occurred to him to tell her that he didn’t have a condom, she had already dropped onto his rigid, pulsing length, impaling herself in one single fluid motion. He gasped as he felt her swallowing him to the base, and she bit her lip as she adjusted to the sensation of fullness. The young woman threw her arms around his neck, anchoring herself as she rode him first slowly and rhythmically, and then with increasing fervor.
Ricky leaned against the cushioned seat behind him, letting her do most of the work. She was obviously capable not only of voicing her needs but of pursuing and fulfilling them. He admired the strong, steely determination in her eyes as she rolled her hips wildly, her ass grinding hard on top of him as her pussy slid rapidly up and down, stroking every inch of him.
He beheld her face. He hadn’t noticed the faded marks along her chin and under her eye. He wondered if those scars were souvenirs from a previous altercation. One of her eyes was puffy, already bruised and blackening. He imagined he looked no better given the kicks and punches he’d taken. Her eyes, however, were flawless, fiery and intense. She held his gaze for a long, intense moment, then pressed her mouth to his with a ferocity Ricky hadn’t expected. Her moans amplified as his tongue invaded her mouth, her lips nipping his playfully at first, and then not playfully at all. The kiss deepened, their tongues chasing each other from one mouth to the next and then back again. Then she kissed her way down his chin and to his neck, leaving a trail of red to commemorate each bite before moving back up to his mouth.
Ricky’s hands unzipped her sweater and moved inside, fingers exploring intently. They slipped underneath her bra to meet her quickly-stiffening nipples, and he noticed that as his ministrations progressed from gentle caresses to rougher and more forceful, from soft touching to harsh pinching and pulling, that’s when her movements intensified as well, finally bringing her right to the edge of climax.
Her sounds of pleasure escalated to their crescendo, and Ricky could tell he wasn’t far off either. Before long her screams were echoing off the walls of the train car. She clenched around his cock, gripping and squeezing even as he was doing the same with her nipples. She could tell he was close when his fingers clamped down on them, holding tightly and even pulling. In spite of himself, Ricky moaned aloud as he erupted, filling her even more completely than she could have hoped or expected. He cried out in spite of himself, and as the sound filled her ears she shuddered with release, burying her head in Ricky’s shoulder and hissing out a few final moans as she pulled him closer to her.
After an instant she began to undulate slowly, effectively milking out any last drops of his seed. He moved his hands off of her breasts, letting them drift along her hips and settling under her bare ass. He was still erect, still quivering with the last glorious aftershocks of his orgasm, and hungry for another ride when the voice of the announcer sounded throughout the tinny loudspeaker.
“Next stop is Industrial Boulevard. End of the line. All passengers must exit the train.”
Faced with the unwelcome knowledge that her ride was coming to an end, the young woman grimaced. Under her breath she said, “Boo.” But Ricky noticed she said it with a smile.
He glanced out the windows of the car and noticed the lights of the skyline across the water; they’d emerged from the Tube, which meant the train would be pulling into the station shortly.
“We should probably get dressed,” he said as the woman stood up. Her pussy was sopping, and she lowered a hand between her legs to dam the flow of their mutual release. His erection, dripping with the combined evidence of their pleasure and climax, was still pointing skyward. The lights in the car reflected off of her thighs, shiny and wet. As she pulled up her pants he reached down for his own, still gathered at his feet.
She stopped him. “Not so fast. We’ve still got a couple minutes.” Then she lowered herself to a crouch and opened her mouth for his hardness. She swallowed him deeply, and while she was only there for a moment, the combined efforts of her lips and tongue busily working together ensured he was once again clean – if not dry – by the time she came up for air. She rose to her feet and stepped back into her shoes, and by the time she had retrieved her purse from where she’d been sitting the train was slowing to its stop.
Continued in Part 5.