Stories From The 6 Train 1(199)

One hand still on his hair, I let the other fall to my chest, and I push down the cup over my left breast, baring my nipple. I curl my fingers around his hair and guide him to my other breast, his full lips immediately finding the way to my rosy tip. He sucks on it, and then gently nibbles it, that sweet electric spark travelling up and down my spine.

With my fingers tight on his head I push him down, forcing his mouth against my breast. Just like that, he unleashes all his fury on me, grabbing my breast harshly and sucking as if he needed to do it in order to survive. I’m panting, needing to feel him right now: I raise my hips up from the mattress and, lacing my legs behind his back, I start to grind against him as the hemline of my dress goes up to my waist. He presses down at once, his crotch on mine, and I feel his hard length against my thong, just a few layers of fabric keeping us apart.

He nibbles at my lower lip and bites on it gently, pulling it back; at the same time, he lets one hand of his slide down my side, and he pulls his crotch up from mine. Then, sneaking in the space between our bodies, his hands runs over my inner thigh and finds my drenched thong. He flattens the palm of his hand against my pussy, and I start to purr and moan, thrusting my hips upward. Flicking his wrist, he rubs my pussy, sharp knifes of pleasure puncturing my mind. Oh, God, this is Heaven.

Fireworks go off behind my closed eyelids as he pushes my tongue to the side, his index finger running over the length of my pussy. He presses his hands against my wetness, still rubbing his hand against my pussy as his fingers threaten to go in at any time now. He keeps that threat hanging over me, moving his back up and down but never going for it.

“Please,” I beg, curling my fingers around his wrist and trying to force him in. He shows me that devilishly sweet grin of his and slides two fingers at once, pushing them past my pussy and between my inner walls. I moan loud, his fingertips finding the way to that delirious spot inside of me, a trigger to pleasure. I arch my back as he pushes his finger against it, rubbing my g-spot while, with a turn of his hand, he places his thumb over my clitoris.

My fingers fall from his wrist and, the moment I let go of him, he starts to destroy all of my nerve endings. Moving his hand back and forth, he starts to slide his two fingers in and out of me, his thumb rubbing my clit with the precision of a man who seems to know my body better than I do.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He whispers against my ear, nibbling at it with his perfect white teeth. “It’s going to feel even better,” he continues, sliding a third finger inside of me. I explode, my brain melting inside of my skull as I scream as loud as I can. Oh, it feels so good to be able to scream until my throat hurts and glass shatters. To moan until I ruin my vocal chords and damage my eardrums.

My hands on his back, I slide them down hurriedly, not even stopping when I meet the hem of his pants. I simply slide them under the fabric of his jeans, my fingers curling like claws on the hard muscles of his buttocks. As soon as he takes his fingers out of me, I pull him in, desperate to feel his thick bulge against my burning pussy once more. His crotch pressed tight against mine, I start to grind wildly, swaying my hips completely out of control.

My fingers climb again to his back and, burying my fingernails on his skin, I claw at him. He doesn’t even respond to it; I’m probably clawing at him so hard that I’m drawing blood but. If he’s in pain, he’s simply not showing it. Or maybe it just makes him harder.

No warning whatsoever, he rolls to the side, his hands grabbing my arms and pulling me into him. I go after his body, sitting up and climbing on top of him with the agility of desire. Straddling him, I start to sway my hips again, rubbing my pussy against the enormous bulging in his pants. I go fast, and I go hard, and by God, just grinding against him is almost enough to make me come again.

I look into him, smiling as my body flows over his. He returns my gaze, resting his hand on my shoulders and sliding them down my arms as he tugs on the straps of my dress. He pulls it down harshly, the whole dress no more than a rope of fabric around my waist. Then, not wanting to waste any time, he takes one hand behind me and unhooks my bra with a quick flick of his finger. I don’t know how he does it. I take longer than he does to take my bra off, but I sure appreciate his skill. It just makes it all easier.

Leaning into him, I move my body from side to side, dangling my breasts right above his face, mercilessly teasing him. His reaction is swift and impatient: he reaches for my right nipple with his mouth, his lips hugging it tightly.

I match his fury with my own, pressing my breast hard against his mouth. He doesn’t seem to mind, not one bit. Instead, he seems even more driven. He cups both my buttocks, thrusting with his crotch at me and pressing his trapped shaft between my thighs. This has lasted enough.