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I caught the eight-thirty, three hours later than my usual. The trains run every thirty minutes, and I’d been trying for the eight o’clock but missed it by three minutes; it had been that kind of day. Boring meetings that ran too long, cantankerous clients, computer glitches, grouchy staff – and I’d destroyed a brand new pair of hose, snagging them on a rough spot beneath the conference table first thing that morning. That should have been a red flag, a warning to pack up and go home. Instead, I’d trashed the ruined pantyhose and worked bare-legged all day; I suppose my legs are tan enough to pull that off, but bare legs from mid-thigh down, below the hem of my charcoal pencil skirt, made me feel very self-conscious and unprofessional. And then the late night and a long wait in the train station to cap off a perfect day! The only thing that made the wait bearable was him. I’d noticed him as soon as he’d walked in, his stroll casual, posture confident, his navy blazer over a silver-grey t-shirt looking stylishly rumpled stretched across his broad shoulders, and his faded jeans molded to his long, muscular legs. His slightly olive complexion was darkened by beard stubble over his angular jaw and cheeks, an unusually heavy eight o’clock shadow or maybe a couple day’s growth, and his thick, black hair was sexily mussed. My eyes followed him, and my tired body responded. His startlingly blue eyes met mine and paused for a brief second, then moved on. He took a seat a row over, his back to me, and immersed himself in his phone. I did the same, responding to texts, although my eyes returned again and again to his broad shoulders and black, wavy hair. When the small light-rail train finally showed up I found myself disproportionately pleased that he boarded the same car I did, the front one of the three. I sat near the door, just in front of the steps, while he sat across, facing the door. The benches just fore and aft of and across from the portal steps face inward, resulting in us çankaya escort facing each other, while the remainder of the car has traditional forward-facing seats, two on each side of the aisle. Most were empty, the few passengers scattered about, one of the benefits of occasionally working late; in fact, the seven-thirty through nine-thirty trains are probably in the sweet spot, uncrowded, but not yet so deserted as to be scary or intimidating. With him across from me and slightly aft, immersed again in his phone, I had an opportunity to look him over, and I immediately discovered something else that was in its sweet spot; his Levis had reached that sublime, short-lived stage where they are no longer coarse and stiff, but are not yet worn or threadbare. Faded and comfortable, butter-soft as the finest suede, they hugged him like a concupiscent lover, forming to his shape around muscular thighs, flat belly, angular hips… and the most beautiful, perfect masculine bulge I’d ever seen! Every feature, every bulge, curve, ridge and vein of a very impressive cock was outlined clearly against the tissue-soft denim on his left thigh, the plum-sized head a defined mouthful and his heavy balls forming a large, rounded bulge above, at the juncture of those powerful thighs. I stared. Aware I was staring and of the increasing heat in my belly I dragged my eyes away, but they were pulled back as if by a powerful magnetic force. I was tingling, and I could feel the wet, slippery response of my own sex between my legs, a sudden moisture to match my racing heart and burst of arousal. Through steely will, I dragged my eyes away from his beautiful bulge again, up to his face… and found cool, blue eyes looking back into mine, a small, enigmatic smile quirking his full lips. I felt the heat of my blush, a heat matching that between my legs, and jerked my head around to the right, staring stonily toward the front of the train. We stopped; people got off. Moving once rus escort again, I chanced a peek. I had to; those fucking perfect Levis, skin-tight 501s! He was back into his phone… and his cock was larger! I’d assumed he was hugely hard before, but no; he’d definitely grown. And again he’d caught me looking! I blushed anew, looked down at the floor… but had to look again. I tried to make it a casual passing glance, but he was watching me, and when I looked he moved his hand to his crotch, and my eyes, against my will, followed. He traced the outline of his thick cock, intentionally teasing me, daring me to watch! I accepted the challenge, my body quivering with arousal as I watched him touch himself through that soft, supple, pale-blue fabric. With thumb and index finger he traced around his fat ridge, outlining the shape of his long shaft, now assuredly rock-hard. His other hand cupped his balls, obscenely fondling and lifting them as he gently masturbated himself through the soft Levis. I was almost panting with arousal, my panties soaked and sticking to my smooth, wet pussy. The train came to the next stop, and a few more passengers disembarked. Still fondling himself, his eyes dropped to my legs, and as the train again started moving I felt myself shift forward slightly, my legs parting, short, tight skirt inching upwards. That enigmatic smile again and a tiny lift of his chin signaled his approval, and I could almost feel his gaze as a living thing on my inner thighs. I wanted to see him, to watch him touch himself, and he seemed to expect a quid pro quo. God, I was getting so wet! At the next stop the last three people on our car – other than the two of us – stood and moved to the door. When he rose behind them, bringing up the back of the line, I almost cried out for him not to go! My stop was next, only a few more minutes down the line… but what might we accomplish in those few minutes? As the train stopped and they all shuffled forward my heart eryaman escort fell and my arousal sagged. It was so unfair! Most nights I prayed for the train ride to pass quickly and it never did; this night, when I wanted it to slow to a crawl, it flew by. I was so horny by that point, so needful, and now I’d never know! Libido flagging, I slumped in my seat, watching the passengers step off the train out of the corner of my eye until the soft Levis and his impressive package came into view. To my surprise – and consternation – rather than following the others off the train he slid in next to me, his thigh against mine, our bodies touching. I could feel his heat and the hard muscles of his leg, and I could smell his cologne and a rich, healthy masculine scent, a combination of leather and oak, musk and salt air. His sudden nearness startled me and I tensed at his touch, gasping a small, alarmed, “Oh!” His lips near my ear, mint on his breath, he said, “Relax! You’re not going to do anything you don’t want to do.” His hand moved to the back of my neck and then to my shoulder, massaging. “Relax, I said! You’re very tense; I’m not going to hurt you, and I’m not going to ask you to do anything you haven’t already imagined.” His strong hand kneading my neck and shoulder was starting to feel very good, and my libido flared anew, despite my trepidation. With his other hand he was still touching himself, gently masturbating, but now he reached out and took my hand, moving it to his cock and then covering it with his own, forming my much smaller hand around the thick, hard ridge of his erection. “You’ve wanted to do this.” “Yes…” My fingers closed on his bulge, squeezing him and feeling him pulse. I was extremely aware of the thickness of his cock, and of how hard and hot it felt in my hand. The butterflies low in my tummy fluttered around, dodging the electric sparks of arousal shooting around just below, and when I felt his hand on my bare thigh they all went crazy. “Ohh, god…” “Go ahead, play with it. You’ve been looking at it ever since we got on the train.” I started to object but realized it was foolish; he’d seen me looking, and every time I’d tried to look away my eyes had been inexorably drawn back to the unmistakable bulge of his big cock.