0 comments/ 91742 views/ 1 favorites Rush Hour By: meganmurphy Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a physical encounter on a bus? How about a train? Me, I'm not sure I'd have the nerve to touch an unknown woman. Would she honestly believe that my hand brushing her skirt-covered ass was an accident? Anyway, I'm not even sure women fantasize about this type of thing. Would they really want it to happen? I don't know and I guess I'm afraid to find out. But that doesn't mean that I'm not curious about this kind of kind. I take the el to work everyday so it's not like I've just started thinking about this. All I have to do is see a woman in high heels wearing a tight skirt and my mind takes off. But as I've said, I'm not sure I could do anything but let my imagination wander. What kind of man would or could take a chance like that? He'd have to possess so much self-confidence that it would over-ride any consequences. For him, there'd be none. He'd be fearless. I'm anything but fearless. I'm your average kind of guy. You know, one who gets crazed about referees who can't make good calls, hopes that my paycheck lasts from week to week and wonders whether or not I'm a good lover. I'm just a guy who wants to be satisfied but wouldn't mind doing some of the satisfying too. I really enjoy the look on a woman's face; doesn't matter whether she's thinking sexual things or in the grip of an orgasm. To me, she's beautiful and exciting. But getting back to transportation encounters. I've heard about cab situations, even drove one myself for a while. I was never lucky enough to have any passengers that thought cabs were private bedrooms. I've read stories of chance meetings on trains, buses, boats and even els. Remember the scene in the movie Risky Business? All my life I've lived in Chicago and I've yet to see anyone doing anything to anyone on an el. Well, maybe a little robbery now and then. But really, the noise alone is enough to dampen anyone's thoughts on any subject except for getting home to the peace and quiet of a television or screaming kids. Well, that's what I thought until last Friday... I caught the el-train on Wabash. It was rush hour and raining outside. All I could think about was how good it would be to get home and relax. Working in the city sometimes takes it toll and leaves me with a perpetual mind cramp. Popping open a beer would definitely alleviate this condition. That's what I was thinking about when I got on the train. What I wasn't thinking about, for a change, was anything sexual. It had been a rough week so I was thinking that a bit of the devil's brew (tip of my hat in honor of my grandmother's description) would feel mighty fine going down. I could almost taste the Caffrey's, bitter and good. My mouth suddenly fell open and it was a good thing that none of that precious liquid really was in my mouth. There's nothing worse than a shirt reaping the rewards of a good beer. They were standing in front of me. Rather she was. He was behind her. Both looked pretty casual but since I've already told you that I love the look on a woman's face when she's on the brink of something sexual, I could tell they were anything but relaxed. She was a small woman with remarkable blue eyes and curly red hair. Her hands were clutching some books and it was interesting to watch how the position of those books changed due to whatever he was doing to her. He was taller, with black hair and blue eyes. One hand was holding up a paper and to any nonchalant observer, he looked engrossed in the news. Ah, but I wasn't an uninterested observer. I knew he was doing something to this woman. And he oozed self-confidence. Between the sparks he was causing and the looks she was giving, I realized that I was going to be able to find out exactly what kind of man could create a sexual scene on public transportation. I moved back a little. I wanted to see what it was he was doing to her. I wasn't disappointed, anymore than she was. His free hand was draped over her right shoulder, fingers just touching her nipple. I wondered how thin her bra was since I could see that little button poking through her white blouse. Her hands with the books shifted to allow him access and he took her up on her unstated request. Confirmed, I thought. She wasn't wearing one. While my cock couldn't see it, my brain has a remarkable way of communicating things to my constant companion. He twitched in anticipation of what was about to happen. The man leaned closer against her. His fingers extended further, middle one touching the covered nipple. I watched as he softly pressed it down. The affect on her was amazing. Her feet moved closer together and I could only visualize her thighs squeezing tightly with desire. Then it hit me. Could I get the nerve to try this, not just watch? I had to know. Blame it on a bad week or chalk it up to the fact that I was still a long way from home and that beer. It couldn't hurt to try, I thought. I moved a little closer and caught the man's eye. Smiling, I looked toward his hand then back at him. He grinned back. Ok with the man, I thought. Now I looked at the woman as I touched her on the arm. Her eyes showed sexual need. I smiled with what I thought was a soft look. She offered me a faint smile that I took to mean yes. I moved closer and she slightly nodded. By this time, the man's fingers were draped over her entire right breast. I moved so that my long jacket could cover my unplanned but seemingly welcome activities. I captured her left one. I can't even begin to tell you how incredibly soft her flesh felt -- smooth and satiny yet the center was so hard. His hand was softly squeezing her entire mound so I took the liberty of helping him. I rolled her nipple between two of my fingers, pinching lightly while he gently squeezed. He moved even closer to her and she moved closer to me. Pinning my leg between her inner thighs, she gently rode it in time with my little pinches. Suddenly reality set in. I was worried about being caught. I wasn't the type of guy that could forget about consequences. But I didn't have time to think about it because she took control of my cock and he let her. She moved the books, holding them against her side. That made her breast more available to me but it also gave her a free hand. She had moved so quickly that at first I didn't realize her fingers were rubbing what was swelling against the front of my slacks. Briefly, I thought about the luck I had - normally I'd be wearing jeans. Thank God for meetings, I thought. Then all reality disappeared. The man behind her grinned at me as his hand slid from her breast and moved lower. Her thighs gripped my leg tighter when his hand slipped under her skirt and touched her ass. I took the opportunity to sneak my hand under the front of her skirt. She slightly shifted her hold on me so that I could feel her panty-covered pussy. The material was moist and felt warm to the touch. I started to trace her covered lips with one finger and was rewarded with a firm squeeze to my cock. At that moment, the el came to a stop. Oh no, I thought. I'm not ready to deal with real life yet. I had no choice though because people were getting up and off the el. They pushed us to the side as other people moved to take their empty seats. Me? I had no desire to move anywhere, least of all not without my erotic partners. Finally the doors closed and we were pushed even closer together. And to think that I used to hate rush hour! The man was still doing something to her ass. I could tell because she would move against him, then push harder into me. By now, I had two fingers tracing her slit, pushing the silky material into her center core. She was going crazy. Her face had that warm glow of beginning pleasure that I loved to see on any woman's face. I wondered what my face looked like and if anyone would notice. I couldn't decide because by then, she had unzipped my slacks and moved her hand under my briefs. The first contact of her strong fingers sent me reeling. Mine moved under her panties and touched her slippery wetness. I was able to push two fingers into her while my thumb found her clit. It was just as hard as my cock, felt like a little marble as I circled and rotated it. I wished for a second that we were alone and I could see what I was touching. Briefly, I wondered how a woman really felt about a man's cock when it went from soft to hard. The man behind me leaned down. I had to bend forward and she had to raise her head to hear him. "It's almost time for our stop." Our stop? I didn't have time to question them because her thumb was brushing pre-come across the tip of my cock while her fingers slid against the rim. Suddenly, she gripped me and moved her hand up and down, stroking me as I strummed her clit. My fingers moved in and out of her, little but deep movements because if you can believe this, I was still aware of the fact that someone could notice. But she was making me come. She was coming too. Her thighs held my leg tighter, she started softly gasping and then it happened. I was seeing stars as my cock exploded in her hand. I was trying hard not to moan loudly as she sagged against me. The man behind her moaned a little too and I could only wonder how he came. I saw the dazed looks on their faces just before I closed my eyes in a state of relaxation no Devil's brew could have induced. "Lake Street, next stop. Lake." All the years I've taken the el, I've never been able to understand any conductor. I swear, they go to school to learn how not to speak clearly in those microphones and baffle all commuters. But today I understood him. Everything seemed really clear. My stop was next. Apparently this really was theirs. She quickly moved back a little and zipped up my slacks. Good thing I was wearing a long jacket, I thought as I buttoned it. The man behind her stepped back and casually folded his newspaper as the el stopped. He looked at me with a little smile. She pulled her skirt down and turned toward the man. "Perfect timing, eh Matt?" She turned her head in my direction. "Thanks for helping us get our weekend started." Squeezing my hand, she moved toward the opened door. Lucky I had a handkerchief, I thought. Rubbing my hand, I thought about her rubbing my cock. I was left to ride toward one more stop and contemplate my destiny. Out of all these people, I was the one they had found to play their 'game' with. Suddenly rush hour didn't seem such a bad ordeal to endure if there were more possibilities like this out there. But there was one question I had to ask myself. Where could I find a woman who would play games like that with me? As I got off at my stop, someone touched my shoulder. I turned to see a woman smiling at me and I don't really have to tell you about the look in her eyes, do I? * * * * * Copyright by Megan Murphy. This story may not be distributed or copied without the express permission from the author. All comments are welcomed. Rush Hour Traffic was unbearably slow this afternoon, undoubtedly due to some bottleneck up ahead. There was a steady stream of cars and trucks moving forward one inch at a time. Giving a quick look at my watch, I started groaning, realizing time is flying by and just knowing I'm going to be late again for yet another meeting. My boss will surely blow a gasket. This will be the third meeting in less than two weeks that I've been unavoidably detained or missed altogether. Slipping my fingers into my purse, I started searching for my cellphone and suddenly remembered the last place I saw it, on the corner of my desk. Gritting my teeth, I slammed my hand on the steering wheel in utter frustration at my own stupidity, then started whimpering as the last bit of cool air squeezed through my dying air conditioner. "Fucking great! Now I'll roast to death!" Quickly lowering the window to allow some air into the steaming interior, I glanced at the car to my left, noticing the guy behind the wheel, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief. Smiling in sympathy, I give him a casual wave when his eyes meet mine, before sighing at the unfairness of it all. The car rolls forward another whole inch and the temperature has started rising with each passing minute, along with my utter discomfort. Each trickle of sweat stealing down my spine makes me squirm in my seat, causing thighs to squeeze tightly together, resulting in a familiar twinge building in my loins as flesh slides against flesh in a deliciously, naughty way. The veritable heat made me feel like stripping. My thoughts racing, wondering if I can be seen. I take a slow subtle swipe of my tongue over my lower lip as my mind veers toward easing that rising ache. God, I want so much to run fingers across the swollen fat lips of my cunt. A coy look around before snaking fingers under the waistband of my now soaked panties, I tugged them down and let my skirt ride high up along my waist. A brush of cool air sweeps against wet flesh. Oh, this is so, so sweet. Beads of perspiration dotted my forehead as I raise my hips up higher in my seat, my fingers playing over of wet pink petals. But that's not enough. My other hand begins to unbutton my blouse, exposing the ripe swells of my breasts captured within the black lace bra, carefully withdrawing one pear of a breast to pinch and pull on the rock hard nipple, turning it a bright shade of red. A movement in the car next to mine catches my eye. I turned my head slightly to see better, my eyes meeting the stranger's intently curious ones. Curling my lips into a seductive smile, I shifted once more in my seat to allow him to see exactly what I was doing. Laughing huskily when his eyes widen in surprise, blazing a look of utter primal lust that nearly sears my flesh. I thought about how much I would love to feel his cock in my cunt. The vision of him thrusting his rock hard pole into my wetness making me whimper out loud, "Oh God!" My clit burning with desire, oblivious to everything but that hungry need that I want so fucking bad. The delicious raw scent of my arousal began rising around me. Snapping my head back against the headrest as my fingers did their walking, their teasing aided the raw sensual daydream of being fucked by the stranger in the next car. Another quick glance to my left let me know he was enjoying my show. So much so that I could detect the familiar up and down motions, signaling he was stroking his cock. Watching him as he was watching me, the excitement of having a participating audience made me almost cum right then and there. Dipping two fingers into my creaming hole, jabbing them swiftly in and out, my eyes focused on his face, the way his body shifts, the arm moving vigorously up and down--both of us masturbating in the hot heat of the afternoon. Feeding each others lust with soft moans and guttural groans, I was straining to hear his animalistic grunts and was rewarded with a harsh "yeah!" A blaring horn made me take my foot off the brake, allowing the car to roll forward a few feet as traffic began to move. The stranger made sure to follow alongside closely. Slamming my foot down on the brake when needed, my fingers began stabbing deeply, hips moving up and down, on the verge of coming. Taking one last look at the stranger before sliding over the edge, I see the jetting spray of his come splatter over the dash and front window of his car. I moaned so loud I'm sure they heard it three counties over..."Fuck...yes!" My fingers drenched in my own musky scent as it gushes from my quivering cunt. Raising them to my mouth, tongue darting forth to clean them, I purred in appreciation of my own taste. I let him see how much I relish the taste of my own juices and satisfaction when I catch him blowing a kiss in my direction. Traffic began moving quickly, enabling me to make the meeting on time, after a mad dash to the bathroom to freshen up. As I walked into the boardroom, I bumped into a man who looked strangely familiar. My cheeks reddened as recognition registered in my mind. It was the man in the other car! My body immediately responded, becoming a finely tuned sexual instrument, picking up on the radar of his own sexuality, as a trickle of my juices steal down my inner thigh. He smiled broadly and leaned forward to whisper into my ear, "Thanks honey! You have given me new meaning to the words, traffic jam. What a rush!" Rush Hour: An Erotic Tale Traffic is always a mess on the way back home. It's one of the things that annoy Kelly even more, considering that she wanted to get home away from the world. Sitting in her car she looked around at all of the faces and pouted at having to stand still on highway 40. She starts getting fidgety because she had been feeling especially sexy in her outfit: a short skirt, silk button-down blouse, thigh highs, heels, and a thong. She had been torturing a man on her instant messenger with that description to the point that he had stopped talking and gone away--more than likely to the bathroom for a great man to hand session. She enjoys that little power and it makes her feel even more excited to know that her curves and features elicit that sort of reactions with only a few simple keystrokes. In her rearview mirror Kelly spies a face behind the wheel of a silver Volvo. The man’s features are partially blocked by the glare of the setting sun, but his eyes, which are a piercing steel gray, take her in. She suddenly realizes that he is staring back at her and she looks away, embarrassed for a moment. Then, she looks again. She can’t help but look at those eyes that see right through her. He is looking straight at her and she looks away like a dear caught in headlights, avoiding his gaze. Kelly finds this to be both frightening and exciting. She feels herself getting wetter and can't decide if she is more excited by this mysterious driver or the fact that she was sexually aroused from earlier and just needed to get home. Kelly looks up again and his steely gaze is unmoved. However, this time, she doesn’t turn away like a giddy schoolgirl. Rather, she stays focused, almost hypnotized by his intense stare. She sees the beginnings of a smile cross his lips and this sends a jolt to her nipples, and the warmth in her spreads to her thighs. She briefly touches herself just as the traffic starts to inch forward a little. She smiles a little. He sees this and smiles even bigger. Her hands begin to shake as she feels herself beginning to lose control. She sees this man as an object of desire. . . something sinful and exciting. She notices the exit about a half-mile ahead. She decides she needs relief and soon. There is a small shopping center and some restaurants. Her need is great and if she could just find somewhere nice and secluded she could just take a few minutes to lean the seat back, run her fingers over her clit and maybe put her hands on her breasts, gently squeezing her nipples. It wouldn't take much because she is so turned on. She took the moment to veer onto the ramp. Right after she looks at the man in the mirror and winks. She pulls off to the side of the traffic and passes the stopped cars as she nears the exit. She smiles, knowing that soon enough she will be alone and her frustrations will momentarily subside. She runs her index finger along her inner thigh and feels the wetness she has created and sighs. She shakes a little, anticipating. She stops at the exit ramp for the red light. As she checks the oncoming traffic to make a right turn, she notices those eyes in her rearview mirror again. She freezes and nearly screams. He has decided to play her game. A game that she subconsciously invited him too when she winked--a game that she really shouldn't play but one that she can't resist. The lane clears; she takes a deep breath and turns right onto the street. Kelly looks in the rear-view mirror and sees the silver Volvo is still behind her, although slowly getting further behind. She lets off of the gas pedal and those eyes slowly come back into view. She is beyond control at this point. It is now instinct and that is leading her to find relief in any form. She pulls into the garage of a business park and slowly drives the ramps to the upper levels where the cars are thinning out. She looks behind her and the gray eyes are still there. She pulls into the top deck slowly turns off her car. She sees out of the side of her eyes the silver Volvo pull alongside her. Slowly she begins to raise her eyes to meet those that belong to the stranger. He smiles and she nearly has an orgasm on the front seat. Kelly smiles and opens her door. He does the same. Her eyes begin to glaze over, as he seems to take forever reaching her. The next 10 seconds are a complete blur. She only remembers his first touch of her skin at the cheek and she immediately cums. She feels the wetness slowly drip down her thighs, weakening her knees. He catches her in his arms and slowly lifts her up against her door. He begins to kiss her passionately, pressing his groin tightly into her wetness. She grasps the back of his head and ass to pull him into her. He slowly runs his hands along her shoulders and then begins to unbutton her blouse as he dry humps her against the car. Slowly he succeeds in opening her blouse and removing her bra. Her nipples become even more erect as the cool crisp air passes over them. His fingers find them and slowly touch and tease them, causing her to moan even more into his mouth. He wrestles with his lips and tongue as she slowly runs her fingers along his back. Soon his mouth leaves hers, travels along her neck, shoulder, and then down to the first nipple. He slowly licks and circles it with his talented tongue and soon teases it by biting and nibbling the sensitive ends. Slowly she is building up to another orgasm. He senses this, pulls up her skirt and runs his index finger along her wet slit up to her throbbing clit. This causes her to scream and he covers her mouth. He licks his index finger and smiles. He then slowly drapes one of her legs over his shoulders and begins to slowly lick the wet, aroused lips of her pussy. Her heads swims and her moans turn into short deep breaths. Kelly grasps the hair on top of his head and guides him into her. He happily obliges and begins to run his tongue along the lips, thrusting into her, teasing the clit as his fingers thrust in and out. She slowly rises again and cums from the pressure. She smiles and slowly pulls him up as she bends down to her knees and unfastens his belt, unclasping the button and unzipping his pants to reveal a very erect penis that is more than enough to satisfy her needs. But first she wants him to sample a little of her talents as well. Kelly slowly runs her tongue along the underside of his testicles and uses her hands to stroke his shaft gently. He throws his head back and moans, which she takes as a sign of enjoyment and continues. He slowly begins to run his hands through her hair as her tongue works up along the shaft, slowly around the tip and teases the hole at the very top. She then slowly takes him into her warm wet mouth and begins to apply pressure with her lips and tongue. He is moaning and grabbing her hair to maintain his posture. She works more of him into her mouth feeling his hardness expand and grow. Soon she is sucking and licking at an increased pace, but she doesn’t want him to cum just yet and neither does he. She removes her mouth and he regains his composure enough to realize that they are far from finished. He then turns her around puts her up against her car once more. She feels his breath on the back of her neck as he raises her skirt and slowly runs his fingers along her wetness with one hand and then guides his hardness into her from behind with the other. Kelly thrusts back to meet him and soon he is inside of her and both are moaning in unison. Slowly he thrusts into her as he begins to kiss and nibble the back of her neck and shoulders. He reaches in front of her to take her nipples in each hand to increase the sensations. She holds onto the top of her car as he does this watching their reflections in the window as she moans and breathes in tandem of erotic coupling. Soon Kelly begins to feel another more powerful orgasm building up and her body begins to tremble. He senses this and begins to thrust harder and faster. She feels his body tensing up and soon she is over the edge. She screams at the top of her lungs as she orgasms and it overtakes her. He is right behind and soon she feels his cum shoot inside of her and his vocal release bellows through the empty concrete structure. They both come back down to earth breathing heavily and slowly detaching from each other. He kisses her softly on her neck and returns to his car. Kelly slowly regains her thoughts and watches his car drive away, glimpsing the site of those gray eyes along with a satisfied smile. She sighs and smiles as well. She buttons her blouse back up, opens the door and sits down in her car, basking in the warm afterglow with her face flushed. She smiles as she leaves the garage and gets back onto the interstate, her mind no longer on the traffic or the snarls, but on the idea that perhaps tomorrow that silver Volvo and those gray eyes will again be in her rearview mirror. Rush Hour Remedy She was sitting in her car, stuck in traffic. It was a blazing summer day, and seemed to be getting only hotter at rush hour. The concrete seemed to radiate heat. Even with the AC on, she was soaked in a thin layer of sweat. She couldn't wait to get home and get out of her work clothes. She had important meetings today, which meant two things: extra stress, and wearing her most formal business clothes. Her best business clothes, however, were dark colors, and a wool skirt. Not suited for summer. She pulled up her skirt as much as she could to expose her thighs, and tilted the vent to try to get as much cool air on her skin. The line of cars inched forward. The air felt good on her legs. It sent a shiver down her—not a cold shiver, but a like a tickle from a caress. Her fingertips lilted up and down her inner thigh, giving her a calming and pleasant sensation. She was wearing nylons, which she rarely did, and it was a curious sensation to run fingertip circles on her smooth thighs. The line of cars inched forward. She let her legs part as she slid her hand over the fabric between her legs. Rubbing herself distracted her from the stop and go traffic. She pressed harder and tried to tilt her hips to find the right angle. The nylon was dampening, and she couldn't tell if it was from the heat or her rousing excitement. The line of cars inched forward. She wanted out of her restrictive office clothes. She raised her butt off the seat and hooked her thumbs in the elastic waist of her nylons to attempt to pull them down. With the seatbelt on, it was a challenge. She had to stop each time the traffic moved. Finally, she had her nylons to her knees. She waited until the traffic was at a full stop and then, throwing her car into park, she kicked off her heels and, reached down, and freed her legs from the nylons. Phew, that's better, she thought, as she jammed the car back into drive and wadded her nylons into her purse. With so much squirming in her seat, her skirt had worked itself up around her waist. Without a second thought, she slipped off her panties and shoved them in her purse, too. Traffic was moving a little more steadily, and she was feeling more relaxed as she drove, now naked from the waist down. The AC on her now bare legs felt good. Absentmindedly, her fingers returned between her legs. Wearing panties and nylons all day had matted the hair. She wondered if she should get a Brazilian. Being bare might be nice in this heat, she considered. She was imagining her pussy lips smooth and exposed as her fingers slid up and down her folds. It felt nice, though, to rake her fingertips through her thick patch of pubic hair. The tangle of hair was damp with her wetness, getting damper as she played with herself. Over the winter, she'd enjoyed not shaving or trimming. She hated the rash of welts from shaving. She hadn't really made a deliberate choice to let her hair grow out, but little by little, by letting more time pass between shaves, and eventually, just putting it off, she'd let her natural curls come back. She reached over to her purse and retrieved her hairbrush. She'd brought it to fix her hair just before her meeting, and now used it to comb the hair between her legs. It was fun to comb up the hair that had been matted all day and see it spring up into a soft triangle of curls. The late afternoon sun slanted in through the windshield and glinted off it, turning it almost golden. Other cars sometimes moved ahead and sometimes fell back as the traffic crept forward. She wondered if anyone could see what she was doing. So much attention on her pussy had made it swollen and sensitive. She pressed the hairbrush handle against her, and rubbed it slowly. That felt wonderful, and she almost closed her eyes. It was hard to pay attention to the traffic as it inched ahead. The sensation of the hairbrush was sending waves of pleasure through her whole body. Her hips were arching up to meet the pressure of the hairbrush. The tip of the handle slipped into her, and she gasped. She hadn't started out wanting to penetrate herself with her own hairbrush, but feeling it inside her was exactly what her body craved. She pushed the handle deeper into her, to the hilt of the bristles. Shocks of pleasure surged through her. While watching the traffic ahead, she moved the hairbrush handle slowly in and out, amazed by how good it felt. She raised her left knee against the wheel to steer. It was a little dangerous, she knew, and certainly inappropriate. Both of those facts turned her on even more. With her right hand, she slid the hairbrush handle in and out of her soaking pussy while she rubbed her clit with her left. With both hands working, the sensation began to build. Traffic was creeping forward. Her hands continued their steady pace, quickening slightly as the intensity built. This is how she could make herself cum at home. She could feel it now, starting deep inside and building. Building. Beginning in waves. She climaxed for several minutes, with aftershocks coming in bursts. She could not remember the last time she had an orgasm that hard. Maybe it was using the brush handle. Or maybe the release of the stressful day. Or maybe the naughtiness of making herself cum in the middle of a sea of other end-of-day commuters. Everyone else locked in their cars, with windows up and air conditioners on full blast. They had no idea. No idea at all. And here she was, in her car naked from the waist down, legs open, slipping the brush out of her and sliding it, still sticky, into her purse with her nylons and panties. Eventually, her breathing, her body, returned to normal, as she drove home. "There you are," her husband said as she walked in the door and tossed her keys. "Work late?" "No, not really," she said. "Just traffic." "Real bad, hun?" "Not that bad," she said.