Her Commuter Train

My eyes watched in ever increasing fascination, as the bulge beneath his Dockers grew into impressive proportions against the firm length of the inside of his thigh. Complete delineation to the extent I could see not just the length and width of his turgid member, but the clear and evocative shape of the head of his shaft. The perfection of the tightly encased man mound was impossible to look away from.

With a suddenly dry mouth, I swallowed and licked my lips, imagining the form unrestrained and how I would like to explore the map of veins over the delicate skin between his legs. My breath caught as I watched him swell and flex and I wondered what he was thinking about. I desperately wanted to know how uncomfortable he felt, unable to adjust or to hide his erection in the crowded confines of the commuter train.

His cock looked venerable, vulnerable and visibly hard. I lightly bit my lip, eyes tracing the shape a thousand times as my mind ravaged his groin, wanting to gently bite him through the material of his pants, dragging teeth lightly along that length to get his attention. Blowing my hot breath against his cotton covered dick so he would strain and arch; making him want to grasp my hair and frottage my face until he spurted inside his pants to stain them with the evidentiary juices of his arousal.

I imagined the slow zip, the delicate and gentle unbuttoning, seeing the immediate  slapping of cock against hairy tummy as his manly man part snapped upright after the confines of boxer briefs were removed. I imagined I could smell the musk of a sweaty man and I closed my eyes wondering how the salt of his skin would melt in my mouth as I took him inside to brush velvet on silk. I could almost taste him.

Shifting in my seat, the uncomfortable uterine need to be filled with the heat of milky seed, flooding through me and surging past every erogenous zone of my body until my skin burned. I opened my eyes with a shaky sigh, latching once again to the magnificent sight in front of me, then raised my eyes casually up his body to his face, only to discover the dangerous glare of a the man; looking like he may devour me, pounce on me, pin me, should I even fractionally move.

He was a wild bull elephant in musk, tossing his head as he narrowed his eyes, lust emanating from every pore of his olive hued skin. Nostrils flaring, pulse beating erratically at the base of his throat, jaw clenched, his eyes kept me as motionless as a timid mouse in the sight of a bold and brazen Eagle. He had been watching me, watch his cock. In that moment, I realized that his ever growing and obvious erection had been for me all along.

Knowing that ‘technically’ that cock stand was mine, it made me grin in primitive female power and awareness. His scowl of reply actually made me laugh; the light melodious sound carrying across the abrasive rumble of steel on steel as we moved between city and suburbs, which drew the attention of several other passengers in close proximity to us. I heard a female gasp followed by an uncomfortable, tittering chuckle then a masculine clearing of a throat. We never once, took our eyes off each other.

The world swirled around us, the scenery flew by in a blur, yet the only thing we saw was the reflection of primal lust and demands in the others eyes. The only thing that mattered was satiating the animalistic ache of our mutually aroused bodies. If it had been possible to ovulate from a look, or to be impregnated by desire alone, then it would have happened on the Train home that day. His commuter train.

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17 Responses to Her Commuter Train

  1. juliemontgommerynews says:

    Funny!

  2. Dawn D says:

    Funny? I’m like “Wow!!! I want to know the rest of the story! I want to know that you took him home, or followed him home or… argh!
    Yummy!

  3. dievca says:

    There is a Youtube video of people watching (peeping?) at someone’s generous package on the Tube in the UK. Quite interesting.

  4. JWo says:

    You’d think I’d have learned by now that I should read your posts at work… I just can’t help myself…

  5. Village Idiot says:

    Dear rougedmount:

    Words spoken with such elegant economy require more response than I have time to give.

    Paragraph one reminded me of Bill Clinton. Remember Monica’s ‘defining characteristics’ remark? This proves that however valid your fantasy, it is possible to know too much about presidents and kings …

    Village Idiot

  6. Village Idiot says:

    Dear rougedmount:

    Even on the internet, you are one of the most honest people I expect ever to meet. For all the talk about the ‘differences’ between the sexes, you show that women and men are much more alike than different. Why can not more women be this honest. We are sexual beings. There I said it.

    Village Idiot

  7. babyd21713 says:

    Mmmmmm, wishing I was you on that ride home. Hopefully you passed him your number? It would been hard for me not to with that type of mental connection as that is exactly what I have been looking for. Maybe I need to ride the train lol..

    Thank you..

  8. From a guy’s standpoint, that is both embarrassing and a turn on. We often have so little control over our body and walking in slacks or a dress pants with a big hard on is difficult. Those are the times that we wish we had you across the aisle from us to come over and relieve our problem. LOL

    • Village Idiot says:

      Dear larryarcher69:

      I have to be up bright and early tomorrow for a weekend trip out of state. But in my humble opinion, someone should write a blob about how this guy decided to give that little tart a taste of her own medicine. But then, this is rougedmount. Knowing her as we do, we can say safely that she’d only up the ante…

      Village Idiot

  9. MY GOD! such an erotic description, She is really a teasing tart to get him to have a such erection and not help him to get it down He should not have allowed her to go free. really cruel

  10. Pingback: His Commuter Train | rougedmount

  11. Reblogged this on Libido bootcamp and commented:
    Part 1/n … Fabulous!

  12. willcrimson says:

    “Shifting in my seat, the uncomfortable uterine need to be filled with the heat of milky seed, flooding through me and surging past every erogenous zone of my body until my skin burned. ”

    This is a beautiful erotic line and you’re a fantastic erotic writer. Why haven’t I read more of your writing? I’m embarrassed.

    And it looks like you enjoy collaborating. Me too.

    • rougedmount says:

      well i am glad you have found me and have taken the time to comment, which i greatly appreciate. my erotic wanderings blend fluidly through my blog and it’s quite an eclectic mixture. enjoy your time with me and i hope to comment with you on other posts..

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