It's
6pm, time to leave work, and the heat is still intense. Your office air-cooling
system has not worked all day, and you're now ready to die from the heat and
exhaustion. Your clothes are sticking to you (…what’s left of them) you have
removed all unnecessary items and are down to a very short t-shirt and skirt.
Conscious that there is a Manics interview on the TV at 7.00pm you fatally
decide to take the Tube (London Underground system) rather than the bus home.
The escalator
carries you to the depths of the earth (…Northern line actually) and you wait
on a particularly crowded platform for a train which can never be late since
there is no timetable. After the tube doors open, you push your way through an
array of sweating bodies only made bearable by the presence of deodorant. You
stop at the far corner of the carriage next to a pair of broad shoulders clad in
a black t-shirt and an extremely horny behind residing in khaki Combat trousers.
However, before you can even begin to admire the view, an extremely obnoxious
looking man pushes in front of you, and you are forced to deal with bad breath,
body odour and a leer that would make your mother turn in her grave. Completely
repulsed you back into the body behind, squishing (…sorry too many ‘Bugs
Life’ videos) him against the window. "Oops sorry” you say, and briefly
look behind you.
As the tube
hurtles through the tunnel, you rub your body against those shoulders and that
arse, until you’re to the point of coming. The owner appears to be enjoying
the experience too, since there now appears to be a small amount of room in
front of him left over from where he has been backing into you. All of a sudden
the train comes to an abrupt halt and the lights go off. The tube is pitch
black. “Fuck”, you say without thinking. The darkness brings on a severe
form of claustrophobia and you feel an urgent need to leave the train
immediately. One of the tourists obviously feels the same and starts to scream.
Unwilling to resort to screaming you fling your arms round the guy in front of
you, burying your head in his neck.
“Are you OK”
he whispers pulling you round to face him into a clear space. His voice sounds
strange and you can’t quite make out the accent. The carriage is now spinning,
and you hold onto him very tightly, your arms firmly lodged around his neck.
Your face is incredibly close to his, but still you cannot see a thing. “Erm
no, I’m scared of the dark” you say laughing nervously at how absurd this
must sound.
“That’s a crap excuse” ,he says, “you just wanted the extra space”.
You laugh again, and then feel his lips on your cheek as he whispers in your ear
“Are you going to finish what you started?” In reply, your lips find his and
you start kissing, gently at first, but as the screams grow loader, your kisses
become more intense, until you kiss almost as if your life depended upon it. A
far away voice announces that “London Underground apologies for the delay and
normal service (with lighting) will be restored within the next five minutes”.
The screaming in the carriage subsides, order returns, but you remain attached
to the man in the black T-shirt and Combats.
In the darkness
his hands start to explore your breasts. Your tongue penetrates his mouth, while
your hands grapple with the buttons on his trousers. (You’ve got less than 5
minutes, since Underground minutes are always shorter than real minutes so
foreplay needs to be brief). You struggle with the last button on the combats
until finally a huge erect penis falls into your hand. Yes, there is a God.
Combat man has found out how ready you really are whilst searching for knickers
beneath your skirt. In one silky smooth movement he pushes your bum back onto
the window ledge behind, spreads your legs wide and penetrates you deeply.
You’d cry out with pleasure, but his tongue is now down your throat and he is
in complete control. You can do nothing but pull him closer to you, as your arms
hold tightly around his neck. His rhythm builds as he thrust deeper and harder
with each penetration, finally (in 4 minutes 39 seconds) the pair of you cum
simultaneously. Aware that the light will come back on within seconds you
quickly stand up and adjust your skirt, hoping that the semen trickling down
your leg looks like sweat. Combat man rebuttons his trousers and moves away from
you just slightly. As the lights come on at 4 minutes 49 seconds you find
yourself staring into the deep dark brown eyes of James Dean Bradfield.
There’s nowhere to go and nothing to stay, you stand there stunned with your
mouth open. James looks embarrassed and goes back to reading his book. Regaining
your composure you rub against him for the last time and get off at the next
stop.