Yesterday and Today
Uno
We run through the station and barely make the train. There aren't that many people on board which is always nice; we could spread out and we aren't slaves to other people's cell conversations.
We put our bags up and settle into a three-seater. I put my hand on your knee and smile. You turn and smile back. I lean over to whisper.
'I like you....
...and you smell nice today.'
A wry smile....'Don't I smell nice everyday.....?'
'Some better than others, but I do love most of what I smell....'
You take the window seat and as I look out the window with you, my eyes wander, looking over your body, beginning to feel that ache. Trains always do this to me...the rhythm, the cinematic passing of the landscape...I become enthralled, losing myself in a reverie.
I look at your shoulders, your neck, your open jacket. I see your shirt, a western snap-style, dark blue with thin white lines. Black jeans, black boots.
I lean over, smelling you again, your hair...a trace of deodorant?
'Go take off your bra, please.....'
You look at me, smiling, and get up to go to the bathroom. Your legs rub against mine as you pass and I close my eyes...and wait. I hear your footsteps move down the aisle and I cross my legs, clenching...beginning...
I listen to the rhythm of the wheels on the tracks. I feel it in my seat and I have now entered a place that is mine, though only briefly whilst you are gone. It is my dreamspace. I wait....and wait.....to hear your familiar footfall on the linoleum, anticipating you being near me again, to feel your warmth, take in your presence, your aroma...so intoxicating. I squeeze my thighs...I can't wait, my beloved....what are you doing? Is this taking a long time? I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, feeling my own rhythm now as I ponder your return.
Due
The sun flashes on my face as we pass through a wooded area... a soft strobe. The brief split seconds of warmth create another cinematic experience. My eyelids are the screen. My lips are dry....I lick them, my tongue out for all to see should they choose...all but me. I may be being watched....yes.....
Your footsteps again...I hear them...I know them...I pulse...and close my eyes.
I feel you sliding past me to get to your seat. I peek as you are in front of me, your legs against my knees, your firm bottom at eye level. You sit, arranging yourself. I open my eyes and slowly turn my head to look at your face. So beautiful, your slight smile, half-closed eyes....so sexual. I see your hand at your shirt and look down. You have opened it a little to tease me. I gaze at the soft rise, magnetized by your actions. I tilt my head to see more, but....you won't let me. God, you know me so well!
You are staring out the window, idly sliding the tips of your fingers over the side of your breast, so lightly, so slowly. The rhythm of the train and the passing landscape are mesmerizing....a slow pulse...a trance state...you play at the placket, sliding it between your thumb and index finger. I stare....you have a thumb ring on, silver with a simple braid on it. I have the same one on my right thumb. We got them in Morocco. I squeeze my thighs together, sending sensations to my vulva. I turn and look away, staring at the ceiling of the car, squeezing while I ponder the design, the engineering and the fastening of the ceiling panels to the car's frame, hidden now. My mind is toggling back and forth between the realities of train car fabrication and the dampening in my underwear, also a reality.....
I return my gaze to your activities. You continue to run your fingers along your shirt, and making sure you have my full attention, you undo another button. Your little show.....I am rapt......I ache for you now. I know how you enjoy the public aspect of these scenarios, the hiding, the revealing, the risk. I, too, find it very enticing....the frisson, as my friend Anne calls it. I think of her while I stare at you. She loves this slowness too, the process, the longing, the denial and the generosity. It is a different kind of sexual tableau we engage in, one that is more about the journey.
But, honestly, I can't wait to get home with you...
I watch you and you watch me watching. You open your shirt a little more, smiling coyly like the little devil you are. I feel the moisture in my panties and I squeeze myself, bringing such pleasure to my center. You hold your little curtain open and I see your hard nipple standing, pointing slightly upwards. It is dark pink, your aureole wrinkled and I feel so excited being with you in this way. You close up, smiling again. Goodness, you know me so well, my darling.....denying me.......always denying me. I hope you won't deny me later when I will give over to you......my moisture, my openness.......
We hear the PA and it's almost our stop. I ache with the thought that we will be home soon and we can enjoy each other more fully. Will you tease me into oblivion??
Tre
I follow you up the walk and watch you reach into your pocket for the key. I hear you slide it into the lock and I pulse. I have been gently tapping my mound since we got off the train. It feels so good. I feel so alive. Waiting....
We enter our house and I shut the door. The click of latch sends me into a small tailspin....my love, please kiss me...
We embrace. My tongue slides into your mouth and put my hands on your bottom, pulling you towards me. I ache so and I feel you pressing against me, my mound alive, wanting you so....
We run through the station and barely make the train. There aren't that many people on board which is always nice; we could spread out and we aren't slaves to other people's cell conversations.
We put our bags up and settle into a three-seater. I put my hand on your knee and smile. You turn and smile back. I lean over to whisper.
'I like you....
...and you smell nice today.'
A wry smile....'Don't I smell nice everyday.....?'
'Some better than others, but I do love most of what I smell....'
You take the window seat and as I look out the window with you, my eyes wander, looking over your body, beginning to feel that ache. Trains always do this to me...the rhythm, the cinematic passing of the landscape...I become enthralled, losing myself in a reverie.
I look at your shoulders, your neck, your open jacket. I see your shirt, a western snap-style, dark blue with thin white lines. Black jeans, black boots.
I lean over, smelling you again, your hair...a trace of deodorant?
'Go take off your bra, please.....'
You look at me, smiling, and get up to go to the bathroom. Your legs rub against mine as you pass and I close my eyes...and wait. I hear your footsteps move down the aisle and I cross my legs, clenching...beginning...
I listen to the rhythm of the wheels on the tracks. I feel it in my seat and I have now entered a place that is mine, though only briefly whilst you are gone. It is my dreamspace. I wait....and wait.....to hear your familiar footfall on the linoleum, anticipating you being near me again, to feel your warmth, take in your presence, your aroma...so intoxicating. I squeeze my thighs...I can't wait, my beloved....what are you doing? Is this taking a long time? I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, feeling my own rhythm now as I ponder your return.
Due
The sun flashes on my face as we pass through a wooded area... a soft strobe. The brief split seconds of warmth create another cinematic experience. My eyelids are the screen. My lips are dry....I lick them, my tongue out for all to see should they choose...all but me. I may be being watched....yes.....
Your footsteps again...I hear them...I know them...I pulse...and close my eyes.
I feel you sliding past me to get to your seat. I peek as you are in front of me, your legs against my knees, your firm bottom at eye level. You sit, arranging yourself. I open my eyes and slowly turn my head to look at your face. So beautiful, your slight smile, half-closed eyes....so sexual. I see your hand at your shirt and look down. You have opened it a little to tease me. I gaze at the soft rise, magnetized by your actions. I tilt my head to see more, but....you won't let me. God, you know me so well!
You are staring out the window, idly sliding the tips of your fingers over the side of your breast, so lightly, so slowly. The rhythm of the train and the passing landscape are mesmerizing....a slow pulse...a trance state...you play at the placket, sliding it between your thumb and index finger. I stare....you have a thumb ring on, silver with a simple braid on it. I have the same one on my right thumb. We got them in Morocco. I squeeze my thighs together, sending sensations to my vulva. I turn and look away, staring at the ceiling of the car, squeezing while I ponder the design, the engineering and the fastening of the ceiling panels to the car's frame, hidden now. My mind is toggling back and forth between the realities of train car fabrication and the dampening in my underwear, also a reality.....
I return my gaze to your activities. You continue to run your fingers along your shirt, and making sure you have my full attention, you undo another button. Your little show.....I am rapt......I ache for you now. I know how you enjoy the public aspect of these scenarios, the hiding, the revealing, the risk. I, too, find it very enticing....the frisson, as my friend Anne calls it. I think of her while I stare at you. She loves this slowness too, the process, the longing, the denial and the generosity. It is a different kind of sexual tableau we engage in, one that is more about the journey.
But, honestly, I can't wait to get home with you...
I watch you and you watch me watching. You open your shirt a little more, smiling coyly like the little devil you are. I feel the moisture in my panties and I squeeze myself, bringing such pleasure to my center. You hold your little curtain open and I see your hard nipple standing, pointing slightly upwards. It is dark pink, your aureole wrinkled and I feel so excited being with you in this way. You close up, smiling again. Goodness, you know me so well, my darling.....denying me.......always denying me. I hope you won't deny me later when I will give over to you......my moisture, my openness.......
We hear the PA and it's almost our stop. I ache with the thought that we will be home soon and we can enjoy each other more fully. Will you tease me into oblivion??
Tre
I follow you up the walk and watch you reach into your pocket for the key. I hear you slide it into the lock and I pulse. I have been gently tapping my mound since we got off the train. It feels so good. I feel so alive. Waiting....
We enter our house and I shut the door. The click of latch sends me into a small tailspin....my love, please kiss me...
We embrace. My tongue slides into your mouth and put my hands on your bottom, pulling you towards me. I ache so and I feel you pressing against me, my mound alive, wanting you so....
5 years ago
