Rush Hour Minus Reality (c) Copyright, By Megan Murphy
Copyright January 2000 - Revised, February 2001

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a physical encounter on a bus? How about a train? Me, I'm not sure I'd have the nerve to touch an unknown woman. Would she honestly believe that my hand brushing her skirt-covered ass was an accident? Anyway, I'm not even sure women fantasize about this type of thing. Would they really want it to happen? I'm not sure and I guess I'm afraid to find out. But that doesn't mean that I don't wonder this kind of fantasy.

I take the el to work everyday so it's not like I've just started thinking about this. All I have to do is see a woman in high heels wearing a tight skirt and my mind takes off. But as I've said, I'm not sure I could do anything but let my imagination wander. What kind of man would or could take a chance like that? He'd have to possess so much self-confidence that it would over-ride any consequences. For him, there'd be none. He'd be fearless.

I'm anything but fearless. I'm your average kind of guy. You know, one who gets crazed about referees who can't make good calls, hopes that my paycheck lasts from week to week and wonders whether or not I'm a good lover. I'm just a guy who wants to be satisfied but wouldn't mind doing some of the satisfying too. I really enjoy the look on a woman's face; doesn't matter whether she's thinking sexual things or in the grip of an orgasm. To me, she's beautiful and exciting.

But getting back to transportation encounters. I've heard about cab situations, even drove one myself for a while. I was never lucky enough to have any passengers that thought cabs were private bedrooms. I've read stories of chance meetings on trains, buses, boats and even els. Remember the scene in the movie Risky Business? All my life I've lived in Chicago and I've yet to see anyone doing anything to anyone on an el. Well, maybe a little robbery now and then. But really, the noise alone is enough to dampen anyone's thoughts on any subject except for getting home to the peace and quiet of a television or screaming kids. Well, that's what I thought until last Friday...

I caught the el-train on Wabash. It was rush hour and raining outside. All I could think about was how good it would be to get home and relax. Working in the city sometimes takes it toll and leaves me with a perpetual mind cramp. Popping open a beer would definitely alleviate this condition. That's what I was thinking about when I got on the train.

What I wasn't thinking about, for a change, was anything sexual. It had been a rough week so I was thinking that a bit of the devil's brew (tip of my hat in honor of my grandmother's description) would feel mighty fine going down. I could almost taste the Caffrey's, bitter and good. My mouth suddenly fell open and it was a good thing that none of that precious liquid really was in my mouth. There's nothing worse than a shirt reaping the rewards of a good beer.

They were standing in front of me. Rather she was. He was behind her. Both looked pretty casual but since I've already told you that I love the look on a woman's face when she's on the brink of something sexual, I could tell they were anything but relaxed.

She was a small woman with remarkable blue eyes and curly red hair. Her hands were clutching some books and it was interesting to watch how the position of those books changed due to whatever he was doing to her. He was taller with black hair and blue eyes. One hand was holding up a paper and to any nonchalant observer, he looked engrossed in the news. Ah, but I wasn't an uninterested observer. I knew he was doing something to this woman. And he oozed self-confidence. Between the sparks he was causing and the looks she was giving, I realized that I was going to be able to find out exactly what kind of man could create a sexual scene on public transportation.

I moved back a little. I wanted to see what it was he was doing to her. I wasn't disappointed, anymore than she was. His free hand was draped over her right shoulder, fingers just touching her nipple. I wondered how thin her bra was since I could see that little button poking through her white blouse. Her hands with the books shifted to allow him access and he took her up on her unstated request. Confirmed, I thought. She wasn't wearing one. While my cock couldn't see it, my brain has a remarkable way of communicating things to my constant companion. He twitched in anticipation of what was about to happen.

The man leaned closer against her. His fingers extended further, middle one touching the covered nipple. I watched as he softly pressed it down. The affect on her was amazing. Her feet moved closer together and I could only visualize her thighs squeezing tightly with desire.  Then it hit me. Could I get the nerve to try this, not just watch? I had to know. Blame it on the bad week or chalk it up to the fact that I was still a long way from home and that beer. It couldn't hurt to try, I thought.

I moved a little closer and caught the man's eye. I smiled, looked toward his hand then back at him. He grinned back. Ok with the man, I thought. Now I looked at the woman as I touched her on the arm. Her eyes showed sexual need. I smiled with what I thought was a soft look.  She offered me a faint smile that I took to mean yes. I moved closer and she slightly nodded.

By this time, the man's fingers were draped over her entire right breast. I moved so that my long jacket could cover my unplanned but seemingly welcome activities. I captured her left one. I can't even begin to tell you how incredibly soft her flesh felt -- smooth and satiny yet the center was so hard.

His hand was softly squeezing her entire mound so I took the liberty of helping him. I rolled her nipple between two of my fingers, pinching lightly while he gently squeezed. He moved even closer to her and she moved closer to me. Pinning my leg between her inner thighs, she gently rode it in time with my little pinches.

Suddenly reality set in. I was worried about being caught. I wasn't the type of guy that could forget about consequences. But I didn't have time to think about it because she took control of my cock and he let her.

She moved the books, holding them against her side. That made her breast more available to me but it also gave her a free hand. She had moved so quickly that at first I didn't realize her fingers were rubbing what was swelling against the front of my slacks. Briefly, I thought about the luck I had - normally I'd be wearing jeans. Thank God for meetings, I thought. Then all reality disappeared.

The man behind her grinned at me as his hand slid from her breast and moved lower. Her thighs gripped my leg tighter when his hand slipped under her skirt and touched her ass. I took the opportunity to sneak my hand under the front of her skirt. She slightly shifted her hold on me so that I could feel her panty-covered pussy. The material was moist and felt warm to the touch. I started to trace her covered lips with one finger and was rewarded with a firm squeeze to my cock.

At that moment, the el came to a stop. Oh no, I thought. I'm not ready to deal with real life yet. I had no choice though because people were getting up and off the el. They pushed us to the side as other people moved to take their em[ty seats. Me? I had no desire to move anywhere, least of all not without my erotic partners. Finally the doors closed and we were pushed even closer together. And to think that I used to hate rush hour!

The man was still doing something to her ass. I could tell because she would move against him, then push harder into me. By now, I had two fingers tracing her slit, pushing the silky material into her center core. She was going crazy. Her face had that warm glow of beginning pleasure that I loved to see on any woman's face. I wondered what my face looked like and if anyone would notice. I couldn't decide because by then, she had unzipped my slacks and moved her hand under my briefs. The first contact of her strong fingers sent me reeling. My fingers moved under her panties and touched her slippery wetness. I was able to push two fingers into her while my thumb found her clit. It was just as hard as my cock, felt like a little marble as I circled and rotated it. I wished for a second that we were alone and I could see what I was touching. Briefly, I wondered how a woman really felt about a man's cock when it went from soft to hard.

The man behind me leaned down. I had to bend forward and she had to raise her head to hear him. "It's almost time for our stop."

Our stop, I wondered? I didn't have time to question them because her thumb was brushing pre-come across the tip of my cock while her fingers slid against the rim. Suddenly, she gripped me and moved her hand up and down, stroking me as I strummed her clit. My fingers moved in and out of her, little but deep movements because if you can believe this, I was still aware of the fact that someone could notice.  But she was making me come. She was coming too. Her thighs held my leg tighter, she started softly gasping and then it happened. I was seeing stars as my cock exploded in her hand. I was trying hard not to moan loudly as she sagged against me. The man behind her moaned a little too and I could only wonder how he came. I saw the dazed looks on their faces just before I closed my eyes in a state of relaxation no Devil's brew could have induced.

"Lake Street, next stop. Lake." All the years I've taken the el, I've never been able to understand any conductor. I swear, they go to school to learn how not to speak clearly in those microphones and baffle all commuters. But today I understood him. Everything seemed really clear.

My stop was next. Apparently this really was theirs. She quickly moved back a little and zipped up my slacks. Good thing I was wearing a long jacket, I thought as I buttoned it.

The man behind her stepped back and casually folded his newspaper as the el stopped. He looked at me with a little smile. She pulled her skirt down and turned toward the man. "Perfect timing, eh Matt?" She turned her head in my direction. "Thanks for helping us get our weekend started." Squeezing my hand, she moved toward the opened door.

Lucky I had a handkerchief, I thought. Rubbing my hand, I thought about her rubbing my cock.

I was left to ride toward one more stop and contemplate my destiny.  Out of all these people, I was the one they had found to play their 'game' with. Suddenly rush hour didn't seem such a bad ordeal to
endure if there were more possibilities like this out there. But there was one question I had to ask myself. Where could I find a woman who would play games like that with me?

As I got off at my stop, someone touched my shoulder. I turned to see a woman smiling at me and I don't really have to tell you about the look in her eyes, do I?

Copyright by Megan Murphy meganmurphy@moose-mail.com January 2000, Revised February 2001 ---- 2053 words. This story may not be distributed or copied without the express permission from the author. All comments are welcomed.