art by Andy Warhol
As Sarah rushed her way to the Metro, the city had a new soft pink hue. It was early March and the cherry trees were starting to bloom. She did not take the time to appreciate the beauty as she would have in the past. Winter had melted away and this was nature’s gift to all who comes and goes, but especially to Sarah for enduring her first winter in the city.
She joined in the dance of frantic movements as the herd of people squeezing through the turnstile heard the impending arrival of a new train. As usual, she stuffed herself into the last cart. At Farragut North, there were always too many people getting on, and not nearly enough getting off.
Sarah wondered about the audience around her. How many times she stood beside him, or brushed shoulders with him? It would be impossible to tell.
It was a true sign of insanity to look people in the eye on the Metro. Public transportation was a painful process meant to be as insignificant and uneventful as possible. These were her brothers and sisters in anonymity. DC was turning her into one of the many peons made to think themselves important by virtue of their proximity to the White House. If only it were that simple.
As politely as possible, Sarah slid her way through the last cart of the train to face the back window as she always did. It was the best view anyone could have on the train, and it avoided the accidental gaze of fellow riders and panhandlers. As the doors closed, the space around her body became more obstructed. There was no space to access a bar to hold onto and even if there had been, the box of books gifted to her by a client would have made it impossible to grip.
There was nothing to brace herself with as the train rounded a curve. Her small frame fell onto a tall stranger standing close to her. On her arm, she felt him harden through his pants as she struggled against his body to steady herself.
She started to feel flushed. Sarah was a trainer at a gym downtown a few days of the week when her school schedule would permit it. She worked with many attractive businessmen. Occasionally she would flirt but for the most part, she kept things unmistakably professional. Afterall, she had a boyfriend back home. The pulsing sensation between her thighs, however, reminded her that it had been many weeks since Christmas break.
The smartly dressed stranger attempted to muffle his embarrassment through laughter as he observed Sarah’s clumsiness. As the train came to a stop at Metro Center, his hands instinctively reached down to steady her hips. Sarah turned her head in his direction. A part of her wanted to shove him away and shame him for his intrusion into what little personal space she had on the train.
As she lifted her chin towards him, the soft smell of his cologne quickly perfumed her analysis of who this man might be. Her gaze was level with the stranger’s chest—wide and full. Her eyes rose past the slim fit of his dress shirt and then past his broad shoulders until her shyness stopped her from peaking above the dark beard, speckled with hints of grey, on his sharp chin.
Sarah noticed that her heart rate had quickened as she opened her mouth to say a soft “Thank you” to the man that now had his hand on the backside of her loose cotton shorts.
Lost in fervor, neither of them were prepared for the jolt forward as the train once again pushed onward on its journey. The tall stranger positioned his right leg further behind Sarah to stop them both from swaying forward. He innocently placed his free hand on her lower belly, as he had nothing else to steady with. Sarah became flushed with heat, sweat, and arousal.
A bump on the tracks pushed her left arm into the stranger’s crotch as he twitched powerfully against her. Paralyzed with an onslaught of emotions that varied from embarrassment to curiosity to intense desire, Sarah kept her head forward, staring at the darkness of the tunnel and the bright sparks on the track. Another bump shook them both. She was starting to silently praise each haphazard bounce that brought them closer.
The hand on her belly was sliding further down onto the front of her belly, down to her pussy until his fingers embraced and cradled her lips. Sarah shuddered and let out a jagged sigh. This seemed to have encouraged the handsome pervert as she let the fire in her imagination take hold. He began to grip her backside and pull her close in a rhythmic motion. Sarah’s hands were full, making it easy for her to rationalize that if they weren’t, she surely would have pushed the stranger away, moved to the other side of the train, and maybe even report him to the police! But she didn’t. She closed her eyes and for the first time truly embraced the anonymity the Metro afforded her. No one was looking and no one could see, but he could feel her pussy slowly becoming wetter as Sarah let go for a moment and enjoyed this feeling moment with a handsome stranger. The grinding increased in pace, edging her closer and closer to unexplored sensations of pleasure until suddenly he stopped. He pushed his way through the crowd and disappeared.
It took Sarah a moment to reawaken her other senses. She was only one stop away from home. As inconspicuously as possible, she glanced around and let the potential for embarrassment sink in. Thankfully, no one was looking. She was just Sarah again, on her own in the city.
When Brice would inevitably call tonight, she would leave this part out, and not think of it again until they had said goodnight. Then, alone in bed, her imagination would not let her forget the immense pleasure felt in only those few short moments. She knew her fingers would find their way in between her lips and she would pretend she was still there on that train.
