“C’mon Shelly, not pigtails, I’ll get punched out” Oh, she was hot today, walking out of our bedroom like she was on a runway.
White cotton top and skirt, with a bare midriff. “Columbia” in blue letters
across her chest: we’d be playing with coed snatch, boys. The skirt was
short enough to show off her long dancer legs. White, out of the box
sneakers completed the overall look of some spoiled rich girl, alone in the
big city, far away from the daddy that paid for it all. Delights underneath. She turned around and bent over slowly. Her skirt was
short enough that just the tiniest, most innocent bend started to reveal her
panties. You couldn’t miss them. Electric blue panties jumped out from
beneath the white skirt. Lace panties, and as she continued to bend she
revealed a vine of small lace kisses all over her tight, firm ass. My wife was hot, very hot. I felt like forgetting our outing, doing her
right there on the hardwood floor. But I knew from long experience with her
that things would be better if we had a little fun first. I got hard
imagining doing her later, the way her voice teases me while I’m inside her
pussy, the teasing little whispers about the people we toy with, and the
trouble she causes I just had a bad feeling looking at the pigtails. I feel like we’re on safer
ground with the total slut look. This was too ambivalent; a guy
concentrating on her face might see her as too young and innocent. Things
get out of hand then. “I know what guys are like, honey, and it’s dangerous
to move off the slut look. Why don’t you let your hair down, and trade in
the sneakers for some high pumps…” Not to mention that this is the look
that I like. “…And throw on some cheap jewelry, too.” “Think I don’t know what guys are like, how to keep them under control?”
Foolish of me, I had to admit she’s on her home field here. Shelly is just
20, but she’s probably seen the eyes of a hundred men as they climaxed inside
her. She knows how we’re put together deep inside, and can play to either our
balls or our hearts. A look from her eyes and a movement of her lips can make
me feel like a rabid dog; Just a downward glance, a tear, and a quiver in
those same lips turns another switch inside me – now nothing matters but
fixing whatever is causing her unhappiness. “C’mon, I want to try this
look,” batting her little doe eyes. “Besides, those big bad men will have all
this to look at,” running her hands sensuously up along her thighs, lifting
her skirt slightly. My heart jumped. Who the fuck would be looking at her hair?
The New York City subway is our playground. Occasionally we do other things,
like flashing in the car or a blowjob behind a museum exhibit. Those are
fun, but we’ve found that nothing gets us off like some subway action. We
have a captive audience during the 40-minute ride from Queens to lower
Manhattan. We have plenty of time to put on our own little drama, and
protected by anonymity, men in the crowd let themselves get into it. I walk her to the station, enjoying the way the men in the streets stare at
her. When we descend into the subway we separate, but stay within sight of
each other. While we’re waiting on the platform I scope out the crowd. I
get my first stirrings by watching men watch her. The white cotton outfit
makes her stand out like an angel from the dirt and grime. I see the glances
across the top of folded newspapers, and try to guess who’ll get lucky today.
You never know. The next train comes. I get into the same car as she does. Its rush hour, so
all of the seats are taken, but it’s still early enough to get your choice of
standing spots. Standing is what we want. I stay near the center of the car
and watch her find her place near forward end. There are two seats with
their backs to the side wall between the foremost platform door and the door
leading to the next car. An old woman in her sixties is sitting in the seat
closest to the door and a boy of about 13 is sitting next to her. Shelly
takes her position in front of the old woman. Perfect.
After a few stops the train gets more full. I move towards Shelly and take my
position within a few feet of her, near the door next to the old lady. I
wasn’t alone. Funny, once Shelly took her place, the center of gravity
started shifting in the car. For some reason men seemed drawn to our end of
the car, I found it amusing to watch them enter, find a place, look around,
spot Shelly, and find this urge to move. Pervert that I am, I root some men
forward with my mind, men with that real hungry look that makes for hot
action. Today would be good. A tall lean black guy in his mid twenties takes up
position on Shelly’s right, in front of the sitting boy. He was in his early
20’s, well built, wearing a Chicago Bulls T-Shit. Even though Shelly wasn’t
looking, and appeared disinterested, I knew she liked Bulls. I know her
type. And Bulls certainly liked her – I had watched him get on all the way at
the other end of the car. Once he saw Shelly his eyes stayed on her, and he
started this way. Now it was fairly crowded. Two business types are behind Shelly. Old guys,
I had the feeling that this was the closest they’ve been to top shelf pussy
in weeks. One guy is in his forties, thin with glasses and a laptop
computer. The other guy is a bit older and heavier, thick and stocky, with a
Grey beard. With the enclosing crowd, we were all pushed closer together, one
of the businessmen, the computer guy, reaches a hairy arm above Shelly’s bare
shoulder to grab the hanging strap above her. As the train rocked, she
slowly moved towards him, so that he pigtails and neck brushed his arm every
so slightly. The touch that maddens. We’re packed tightly now: myself, Shelly, Bulls, and the two businessmen
behind her. I watch Shelly as she starts to slowly rub her shoulder into the
arm thats hanging over her. I’m facing her, and I can see both her and his
face behind her. He’s not moving his arm; he’s enjoying the slight contact
with such a hot young coed. When she has his full attention, she works on
the others. There’s a subway map on the wall above the old lady’s face. She
leans forward and studies it, arching her back, hanging lower on the strap
above. The loose cotton top hangs out slightly, exposing more of her dark,
shapely belly. The old lady doesn’t seem to care, but the 13-year-old boy
next to her certainly does. The old woman sitting next to him must the boy’s grandmother – she’s on his
case about school, something about how important grades are, and how
disappointed she is in him. He’s a typical boy, just tuning Grandma out.
Junior slouches low in the chair, hands in the pockets of his shorts, and his
eyes almost hidden beneath long blond hair. That is, hidden until Shelly
started hanging forwards, because from his low vantagepoint on the seat, he’s
looking upward at Shelly’s exposed chest. His eyes locked onto to her. Things are ready now. The train is fully loaded. We’re at the last local
stop in Queens, about to begin the first of a few long express runs. Its
time to get some action going. The doors close behind me, and when the train moves into the express tunnel I
make my move. While Shelly is leaning towards the map over grandma’s head, I
move slightly behind her, and so the total effect is to bring her closer to
the door. I slide my arm down her back onto her ass and start caressing it,
kneading it through the soft cotton. Now every man in the car, particularly
Bulls and the two businessmen, have had their attention riveted to her body
since they got on the train, so they see what’s going on. Their eyes light
up. Even Junior realizes what’s happening. For a moment, Shelly stays rigid as I fondle her ass. She stops moving, and
hangs still in front of Grandma and Junior. She starts to act … annoyed.
This is where it takes off. She sighs, as if she’s pissed off, sick and tired
of this, she can’t stand when some filthy pig paws and gropes her on the
subways. Never mind she’s dressed to attract just this sort of hassle. The men see me, and they notice her reaction. Bulls isn’t looking at her ass
anymore, he’s looking at her face. And at mine. On the edge, and I can see
the calculation in his eyes: He’s already figured he can kick my ass, stand
up for the little lady, and maybe have a few months worth of grateful young
pussy. I get a little shiver, since men get protective around some girls.
But he’s back looking at her, all of her, measures her cleavage and short
skirt and realizes just how much flesh she’s offering. The little miss is a
little tease. I can see it in his eyes. Fuckin’ bitch is a whore!
So Bulls reached his hand down and grabbed her ass too, his big black hand
joining the fun. I let go, and he slowly reached his hand down her thigh,
and drew the thin skirt back up, exposing her blue lace panties and butt
flesh for all to see. I glanced at Shelly’s face, and while she grew visibly
more upset at such a clear outrage, I could see the hazy look of arousal in
her eyes. This was everything she wanted. She loved being the center of bad
attention, the bad girl teasing men to do bad things. And everyone was looking! The two businessmen stared slack jawed, imagining
their hands and the way those lovely cheeks would feel. Comparing the shape
and texture of those cheeks against what they had at home. Grandma stopped
lecturing Junior; suddenly, she realized what was going on, and right in
front of her. The nerve! All she saw was the big black man, and a young girl
who was upset. She wasn’t a man, so while she noticed the young coed still
in pigtails, she missed the other signals Shelly was giving off. The “C’mon
and fuck me!” signals. Grandma saw just a young girl only a few years older
than Junior being assaulted. She wasn’t going to stand for this, not as a
civilized woman on her train. “Stop that! Leave that girl alone!” She started to get up as she said this,
and confront Bulls directly. Bulls didn’t let her get all the way up. He leaned over and got right in the
old lady’s face: “Mind your fuckin’ business, you old cunt,” spitting the
words at her through bared teeth. She recoiled as if she were shot, shocked. The screws were tightening. As Bulls resumed his fondling, now free from any
interference, Shelly started acting more annoyed. But I knew she was
excited; we’d done things like this many times in the past, and I knew that
this was the part she loved. “I love it when I bring their inner rapist out,
when men start acting like wild dogs.” She started to bring her hands down
off the strap, and would “try” to fight him off. That was my queue. I grabbed one of the hands that were now behind her.
Just before it reached Bulls hand, I took it by the wrist and turned her arm
up into her back. Gently, but that’s not the way it looked – everyone else
saw her turn rigid with pain, arching backwards as I pushed her chest hard
against the subway door. She was pinned, trapped and helpless. I looked
across her at Bulls and said, “I’ll hold her.” I listened closely to her
breathing; short, quick breaths that sounded to everyone else like terror.
But I knew she was hot inside. The air in the car was charged now. I held Shelly against the door, held her
tight while Bulls started fondling her again, reaching his fingertips beneath
her panties, and feeling the delight of her soft cheeks. Oh, Shelly has a
nice ass, and here it was. Exposed for all to see on a crowded subway. This
was her dream, a secret wish she told me about, and here we made it happen.
This was just inches across from Grandma’s face; She was still staring
lifeless at the event, seemingly unable to believe what was happening, but
she wasn’t looking away. And Junior! Junior was bolt upright, leaning
forward so he could leer at Shelly’s ass without Grandma blocking the view.
The 13-year-olds face was flushed red. Like Bulls, he had a growing mound in
his shots too – the kid had a rocket in his pocket. The train moves quickly on its express run, and even at the next stop, the
doors on this side wouldn’t open. We planned it that way, so there would be
plenty of time. Bulls pulls the waistband of his shorts down, and exposed
his huge black cock. I swear I could hear an audible gasp as we realized
what was going to happen. I held her hand tightly against her lower back. Bulls took one hand off her
ass and grabbed one of her pigtails. He kept the other down there, as he
moved against Shelly’s back. “He looked as me with fire in his eyes and said
“Hold the bitch tight!” Shelly heard that and she just…. Melted. Christ,
this was hot, the prospect of this big man reaming her ass right here and now
had my dick stiff. Shelly, Bulls and I were pressed close; I could feel his
hot breath as he reacted to the feel of her buttery assflesh on the tip of
his dick. I couldn’t see what was going on down there, whether he was inside
her or not, but I could see the reaction on the men near us. Like a heard
sensing a storm in the air. Some were sizing us up like Bulls measured me,
and I could see the same measurement of Shelly; was she worth a beating? Or,
like scavengers, just hang back and enjoy the spoils. It wasn’t even close –
the sight of her exposed ass there for the taking overwhelmed all other
feelings. They’d be in there after us; they were waiting like a pack of
wolves. “Don’t move, cunt!” I said, loud enough for everyone. “You fuckin’
cockteaser, here it comes!” Junior heard every word. His eyes had a
dreamlike look as he watched the big black man enjoy a piece of ass. “Please
stop, someone help me!” Shelly said, gulping air like she was drowning. Fat
chance, no one would try to help. Men watched, half sick, half thrilled,
their animal juices reacting to the primitive scene. And through the crowd of
men I could even see a woman or two, sheepish almost hiding the crowd, too
weak to protest, too fearful of the men in the car turning on her. My face was too close to Shelly’s face, and to Bull’s face, to see what was
happening down there. Later on, Shelly told me. That night, while I was
rock hard inside her she told me what it felt like. He didn’t fuck her in
the ass – he just slid her lace panties down, and pushed his dick into the
crevices and creases between her ass and thighs. She felt his head slide
threw her pelvis along the underside of her hairy cunt! “Tell me more
honey,” as I started that night to rock slowly inside her pussy. She
whispered and grew wetter as she told me. “All I could feel was this big thing pushing itself between my legs. I knew
your face was behind me, and I loved the sound of your voice as you called me
a cunt. I looked down at the old lady and at the little boy sitting next to
her. He just kept looking at my ass, at what was happening down here. Such
an intense look, so sexual, the way he watched Bulls pushing into me. Right
next to Junior’s face I could see an old man rubbing secretly in his pants
pocket. I knew the boy would never forget this, that the sight of me being
forcibly taken before all these men was making a deep imprint on his soul.
He’ll think of me whenever a girl makes him hard.” “Oh, Shelly, you bitch, you cunt!” Like little love bites in her ear, I feel
like my cock will explode “So wet I was back there. The boy watched me so intently, and every few
seconds he’d look up from my ass and we’d lock eyes. We were staring at each
other when Bulls came. You see, the boy knew in his gut that I liked it, he
knew I really didn’t want help. He watched me so closely. He saw the ripple
of pleasure that spread across my face when Bulls emptied himself all over
the inside front of my skirt.” All the while she was telling me all this I was fucking her wet pussy. God,
I’m so lucky having a hot little slut like this for a wife.
