A Brief Subway Interlude
 

She sits down across from me on the subway car, and my eyes flash her way.
17, maybe 18, glowing with youth and innocence.
Dirty blond hair, pulled back in a pony tail. So easy to grab from behind.
A tight white tank top, purple bra straps peeking out, bright against her pale skin.
Full breasts snuggling under the fabric, nipples poking gently out in the air-conditioned train.
What would she do if she knew what I was thinking?
Kneading her tits in my hands as she struggles to break free.
Screaming in pain and despair as my fingers squeeze her nipples.
She glances over and makes eye contact with me. She flashes a quick smile before turning away.
Full lips. White teeth. Forcing a thick ball gag into her mouth, the squeals of protest, the saliva quickly dripping over my hands.
She can't see my cock stiffening in my suit pants. She can't imagine the thoughts in my head.
She crosses her legs, her tight jeans showing off her trim hips, thighs, calves.
Shoving the pants down to her knees she'd topple over easily.
What's underneath, I wonder...skimpy silk panties, purple to match the sheer bra.
Wispy curl of soft blond pubic hair.
Pressed against her prone body, face to the floor, arms flailing, hysterical crying as she feels my throbbing cock against her.
The train stops and she gets up gracefully, her ponytail bouncing as she turns to the door, her gentle eyes passing mine again.
How does she not see it?
Her tight ass at eye level as she walks out. The last thought of my cock ripping into the tight flesh, the scream of agony, the ecstasy of domination.
And the door closes.
And the train moves on.
I sit back and close my eyes.
A moment gone.