Subway

[Honey_B]

It hadn’t been that long since Mary had graduated from a small town high school. Not much had changed in four years. Moving to the big city hadn’t made her less shy. In fact, living in New York had the opposite effect. Hiding behind big glasses and baggy clothes, Mary had retreated into a protective shell.

Coming from downtown, the car was jammed and Mary felt lucky to get a seat. More than anything, she hated standing on the subway. The petite brunette sank gratefully onto the bright orange vinyl with a soft sigh of relief. The conductor’s voice, distorted beyond comprehension, crackled over the speaker and the train lurched. People fell forward and the subways lights blinked on, off, and then came back on to stay. The flickering lights caused Mary’s bright blue eyes to open wide with alarm. Her pulse pounded in her veins. Mary willed herself to relax; it was a long commute back to her tiny flat. She leaned her head back against the jostling wall and tried to ease her breathing back to normal.

To distract herself, Mary straightened her glasses and surveyed the crowd – A wrinkled woman wearing a babushka and lugging a shopping bag from a long-closed grocery store, a group of college students in jeans, so clean cut Mary’s mother would have approved, two gothic wraiths, clearly in love and wearing matching shades of dark purple lipstick. Above their spiked black heads, Mary read and reread the sign: NO Smoking or Radio Playi-

The train stopped and started a half dozen times. The crowd slowly thinned as more people got off than got on. The car’s hypnotic rocking lulled Mary into a daze. Her mind began to wander to places she didn’t like it to go, back to a different subway car nearly a year prior.

She had been forced to stand on that trip, amidst a crush of bodies. Mary held her purse tightly to her body with one hand and frantically looked around for something to hold onto with the other. As the train began to move, the train lurched. Mary felt herself pitch forward when a strong arm encircled her waist.

“I’ve got you.”

His voice was a rich baritone, soothing her like warm water trickling down her spine. Mary turned her head to thank her rescuer but stopped when he said,

“Don’t turn around. I’ve got you.”

For a reason she couldn’t explain, Mary obeyed him even though the stranger hadn’t removed his hand. His touch was light; just enough to steady her in the jostling crowd and certainly nothing Mary felt compelled to object to. She relaxed and waited for her stop to come.

At the train’s next stop, more people got on and the crowd surged forward, pushing Mary into the man behind her. For the first time, Mary felt the long line of his body. He was very tall and erect. Mary could feel his rock hard cock pressing into her. She fought a rush of panic as she struggled to free herself from his grasp. It was impossible with the crowd imprisoning her. She dug her nails into the arm around her waist, feeling several of them crack off below the quick. Mary cried out.

“Stop hurting yourself and relax. Even though I would love to fuck you, you are perfectly safe.”
The words were a mere whisper in her ear...

The lights flickered again in the car, bringing Mary back to present day. She shook her head, trying to cleanse herself of the memory. She hated it. Even though nothing further had happened, even though she had pushed her way through the crowd at the very next stop, that train ride had been haunting her nights for nearly a year. She crossed her legs, sickened at how wet she was. That brush with danger, that assault by an unknown stranger on a crowded train, had come close to fulfilling fantasies Mary didn’t even want to admit she had.



OOC-
My character’s name is Mary Hubbard. She's 22 years old and far too repressed for her own good. Whomever she meets on the train should change that. Send me a PM if you'd like to play.

 

[captainb]

The subway doors hissed shut as Wade slumped into the plastic seat. Another day of cubicle madness was over. Another day of nodding emptily to his boss’s yammering, her nasally voice biting off the end of each word as she spoke through him. She’d never noticed the laser beams that shot from his eyes into the back of her skull when she turned away, the way his eyes dragged down her body to her ass, his mouth twisting in disgust at how the fat cheeks flopped about under the ugly knee-length skirt. He kept a small file hidden in his computer folders, a Photoshopped image of a horse’s behind with her smiling company portrait embedded right on its ass. He pulled it up on his monitor every day right after the morning meeting. The secret rebellion made him smile and helped set the tone for the rest of the workday. He was collecting snapshots and portraits of the rest of the office workers to embellish his little farm. It kept him busy and made each day a bit more bearable.

Now he sagged and stared at the floor as the anonymous feet stood and shuffled around him. Without effort, his boss’s face slid into his memory again and he cringed. The mental image swung around until he saw her ass. Even though it disgusted him, he found himself often thinking of placing his hands on her round butt. His eyes grew unfocused as he thought of slipping into her office and coming up behind her, pushing her face down into the desk amidst all of the reports and notepads, grabbing her hair to keep her face out of sight, and sliding his hand up the horrible patterned skirt and gripping the soft globes of flesh atop her thigh. In his mind, she moaned and protested feebly, but her pussy was wet around his fingers as they worked inside her (it was huge, he knew, gaping and hairy and slutty – he knew what she really wanted). He would pull his cock out and slam it into her, fuck her until she gasped, then pull out to point right at her brown asshole and jam it deep inside as she begged for mercy….

A large brown jacket squeezed into the seat to his left, and Wade grimaced in annoyance and slid sideways, trying to keep his legs from touching those on either side. His heart was still beating strong from his fantasy. His erection, covered by his jacket, pushed up firmly inside his pants. He was right next to a woman now, and he looked past her to the right as if reading a notice at the end of the car. She didn’t look at him, and he traced the profile of her face. She was young, with smooth skin and a slight overbite which he found attractive. Her glasses were huge, resting on a nose that had a faint scattering of freckles. Her body was lost in a shapeless coat, but there didn’t seem to be any excess fat around her cheeks and chin. She was actually quite pretty. He wondered just what kind of a body she was hiding under the bulky clothes.

He cleared his throat and resettled himself on the seat as the subway started moving again, taking advantage of the motion to let his hand rest on his thigh, casually pushing the coat edge off of his right leg. His cock had pushed out the right leg of his boxers and formed a ridge under his pants down the top of his thigh. His hand was relaxed, settling on the side of his leg, and the index and middle fingers grazed against the girl’s leg in time with the motion of the car. He stared blankly ahead as if unaware, but he could catch bits of her reflection in the window opposite as the other passengers swayed.

ooc: Wade is in his early 30s and is far too jaded for his age. He's almost 6', with dark, disheveled hair about a day past needing a cut, wearing a dark green trenchcoat over an out-of-style business suit.

 

[Honey_B]

Mary

Numb as she was to the comings and goings of the train’s passengers, Mary couldn’t help but become acutely aware of the man who slid over to sit next to her. Her mind raced.

Why did he move over? Does he want to talk to me? Of course not! He’s just some guy who doesn’t want to get squished by that fat gentleman on the end. Besides, he smells nice.

Mary felt silly for letting her fears get the best of her. She looked down at her hands, clasped primly in her lap. As serendipitously as she could, Mary studied the stranger without looking at him directly. Her glimpses gave her only snippets of information; a strong jaw with a five o’clock shadow, dark hair, long eye lashes. The man must be tall; he had long enough legs. Of course when one stood at 5’2”, just about everyone seemed big. He shifted in his seat then, bringing his hand into contact with her leg and Mary fought the impulse to pull away. Not that she could move much. She was firmly wedged between the car’s partition and the man sitting next to her.

The train stopped again and Mary realized she was only halfway home. She closed her eyes tightly. There was still a long ride ahead of her. The man’s fingers kept brushing up against her thigh and though she knew it was only the motion of the train, his touch felt like a caress. It was maddening and arousing at the same time.

Why doesn’t he move his hand!?

Mary wickedly imagined moving the man’s hand, not away, but drawing it between her legs.

“Stop it!”

Mary’s hand flew to her mouth, suddenly realizing she had spoken out loud. For the first time, she turned her head toward her neighbor though her eyes were still cast demurely downward. It was then that she noticed the unmistakable bulge in the man’s pants. She stood up abruptly though the train was still moving.

I have to get off at the next stop! What is the next stop?

The lights on the subway map showed they were in a particularly dangerous part of the city, one she didn’t venture into after dark. She sat back down, feeling trapped.

Mary caught the stare of a homeless man sitting opposite her. Anxious eyes peered out of his wizened face, regarding her with trepidation.

Oh wonderful! I’m scaring the bums.

She had to offer him an explanation.

“I’m sorry. Bad day.”

 

[captainb]

The homeless man suddenly leapt up and reached for the girl. “Swagger the roses!” he blurted past stained, broken teeth. The girl gasped and staggered back, and Wade quickly stood, catching her around the waist. He stepped in front of her, not taking his eyes off the bum.

“Settle down, you!” he said. He turned to her and said quietly, “Come on miss, there’s a safe seat back here. She looked up at him with wary eyes, very aware that his hands still rested on her waist.

The car squealed to a stop, and his hands tightened as their bodies rocked to a stop. They both glanced out at the station number on the tiled wall. The doors hissed open and a group of people pushed inside, spraying inward from the doorway. Wade and the girl rode the crest of the human wave to the back of the car. He murmured, “Sit here,” and pulled her down next to him as he sat at the very end row, turning so she ended up in the window seat. His hand had slid around her back to grip her upper arm, and his other arm in front slid up and grasped the back of her hand. Wade was somewhat surprised that it came so naturally to him. He didn’t know what he wanted, just that he wanted to hold this girl this way.

An angry look crossed her face and she tried to pry his hand loose. Both of his hands tightened their grips. He leaned in very close and whispered, “I’m not going to hurt you, unless you make me.” She glared at him and he hissed back, “Go ahead, try. If you think it matters to them, you’re wrong.”

His eyes moved to scan the bodies crowded nearby. “Look at them,” he whispered, almost to himself. “They’re not even looking at us. They don’t want to see. Too concerned about their own lives. Hardly any of them know what real emotion is, something beyond their so-called love and hate. Ordered, secure, hiding in the safety of the same thing every day.” He looked at her, close enough to see the fine pores on her cheek and the dusting of peachfuzz along her ear. “They don’t understand the need to break out, to lash out, to give in to the impulse, the desire of the moment. But you do. It’s in your eyes. In your scent.” He dipped his nose slightly to inhale along her jawline. “Just sit still,” he murmured. His hands still held her, but the fingers that held her hand moved slowly, rhythmically, massaging the tendons along the back. “Let it wash over and through you.” As he spoke, he wondered what she would do. Would she scream, and if so, what would be his response?

He saw that the anger in her eyes had turned to fright. But now, her expression altered yet again, to... something else.