She Tells About Her Orgasm on The Subway

She Tells About Her Orgasm on The Subway

“I’ve never been claustrophobic, but this is pushing my limits,” I say in my boyfriend’s ear as another stranger bumps me, pressing me harder into David.

“Take a breath,” David says.

When I do, I wrinkle my nose. The subway car is a vortex of competing perfumes and colognes. David pulls me closer with his free hand as the other holds onto the pole, keeping us steady.

“I know how to relax you,” he whispers.

That pulls my attention away from the crowd surrounding us, pressing in on us. I smirk up at him. “Not like we can do anything about that now.”

David lifts an eyebrow at me in a challenge. I have learned not to issue a challenge to him because he will never back away from a dare.

“That wasn’t a challenge,” I say quickly.

“Sounded like one to me.”

That is when I feel his hand sliding down my side, lifting my shirt. He twists his wrist, so his palm skims down my stomach. His fingers slip under the waistband of my skirt and into my panties.

“David,” I warn.

He does not slow down. Instead, he leans down and gives me a chaste kiss on the nose, contrasting the dirty things his hand is doing inside my undies.

I look around, but the press of bodies is too much. There is no way anyone can see what he is doing. Our backs are to the people seated on the benches, our hips touching because there is no space in the entire subway car.

A little grunt leaves me when his middle finger flicks my clit. David leans down as if he is simply making sure I can hear him as he starts to whisper in my ear.

“You are already wet, Laura. This turns you on.”

I do not admit or deny it because I am not sure if it is the fact that we are in public or that I just need a distraction and my mind wrapped itself around the thought of my husband fucking me in the middle of this crowd of people.

I wrap my arm around his waist, pulling him closer. What I want to do is press his teasing touches harder against my clit.

“David,” I pant. “Stop torturing me.”

“You think this is torture? Imagine being hard as a steel pipe and not being able to do anything about it because one hand is holding a different kind of pole to keep you steady, and the other is working so hard to make me come.”

“You are not working hard, and you are not trying to make me come. You could do that easily. You are taunting me.”

He lowers his mouth to my neck and scrapes his teeth along my skin. When his lips are once again pressed to my earlobe, he whispers, “I don’t want you to come too quickly or too quietly.”

I close my thighs tighter, trapping his hand between them, but all he does is chuckle. I swivel my hips, trying to get more friction where I need it.

David curls his finger, giving me the much-needed pressure. I grunt quietly into his neck with each pulse of him against me. But neither his rhythm nor that pressure is consistent.

The train stops at a station. I hold David tighter as a few people brush past us to get off. My body tenses at the thought of someone being able to tell what we are doing as they move past. Then more people crowd against us when they get on.

The doors slide shut and the train moves on. It dips and sways, adding to the gyration of my hips and the inconsistent rhythm of David’s fingers.

“Please,” I whisper.

David slips his hand down further, leaving my clit. I groan in frustration even as his thick finger presses inside me. He slides into the webbing on his hand before he starts pumping in and out. Finally, consistent friction, but I really wish it were on my clit, not inside me. As if reading my mind,

David’s thumb stretches up and can reach my clit while his middle finger continues to move in and out of me.

“Yes,” I hiss into the skin of his neck.

I kiss my way up until I bite on his earlobe, tugging at it. I slip my hand down his stomach now. I feel each muscle contract as my palm descends.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “you are feeling frisky.”

I do not try to get inside his pants, but I press the heel of my hand to the hard length of his shaft. I curve my fingers around him, giving him the pressure that I want so badly. David’s hips rock forward, pressing so hard I would have thought it would cause pain, but he just groans quietly into my ear.

“Can you come?” I ask him.

He opens his mouth to answer as my hand slides up to his tip. With the heel of my hand still along the underside of his shaft, I flutter my thumb quickly back and forth over his sensitive tip.

“Fuck,” he says again.

And because I am giving him what he needs, he stops messing around and starts to fuck me with his hand. I wish I could use both hands on him. I could get him off faster if I could, but I must hold on to him or I will lose my footing on the rocking train and fall into the crowd around us.

“Laura. Slow down. It is too much.”

I shake my head. I know how much he hates cum in his boxers, but that is his payback for dragging this out for so long.

“Are you going to shoot your load right here in my hand?” I ask.

David leans his head back. His lips part. I am surprised that he got there so fast, faster than me. His thumb moves frantically back and forth over my clit as I feel the first jerk of his cock against my hand. Fuck. He is coming. So am I.

I shudder as my back arches instinctively. Once again, I close my thighs, trapping his hand inside me. I rock my hips back and forth, wanting to feel every zap of energy, wanting to draw it out as long as possible. A small, needy noise bursts from me as David continues to flick my clit.

I take a deep breath and sag against my husband. The conductor comes on the static-y intercom and announces the next stop.

“This is us,” David says as he pulls his hand out of my undies.

As soon as the train stops, he grabs my hand with the one he used to hold the pole. The hand that was down my panties, he licks clean as we move past all the other passengers. When we are in the station, I take a deep breath. The air is still stuffy and hot, but not as oppressive as inside that subway car.

“That quickly turned from the worst subway ride ever to the best,” David says as he pulls me toward the escalators.

I do not argue with him because he was right.