Ride Home

Duke felt the small bit of hope that the fantasy would come true escape him and he snuggled back into the chair to enjoy the show.  He had known Amellia would not be coming.  His stomach, however, did flip when he saw the shadow of a tall woman enter the cinema below…

She, however, sat nowhere near him.

Duke sat in his seat, eyes half on the film and half on the woman seated many rows ahead. The fact that she never glanced back, even to just see…finally brought him to the conclusion that Amellia had not come.

He sat through Cloud Atlas…all three hours of it, and walked out uncertain if he was entertained or just robbed of three hours.

Pulling his trench coat tight around him, he walked out into the blowing snow.

It was not yet five and it was darker than it should have been as the cloud and snow had brought twilight early. The snow was now over the top of boots worn by any brave enough to endure.

Duke made his way to the subway steps and quickly got out of the elements. He almost slid off the bottom step of the cream tiled stairs that matched the same tiles on the wall of Princess Station. Dropping his token in the slot, the turnstile moved without much resistance to allow him access.

There were only two others awaiting the subway on his side of the platform for the east bound trains. The westbound platform, however, was crowded enough that the black word “Princess” carved into the same ugly cream tiles as above was blocked out. The local football team, the Jacks…short for Jackhammers…had a playoff game at Orgono Field where all these folks seemed to be heading based on the over-riding fashion of all wearing double blue. There was a little bit of blue and green mixed in for the visiting team from Seattle.

The westbound train, a stallion of silver metal, screamed into the station and squealed to a stop. Thirty seconds or so later, it pulled away leaving an empty platform. The rumble of the east bound train quickly followed.

Doors sliding open in a Star Trekkian fashion, without the swish, allowed Duke entrance onto the car. He sat in the back seat of the train and had full view of the entire empty car. The clicking of the tracks quickly had his eyes to half doze.

At the next station, Crossworth, she got on.

Duke’s eyes widened to take her in.

She entered mid-car and stopped in the aisle to eye seats. Thigh boots and then black nylons that showed just a hint of hem below her short tight red skirt. Her blouse was black under a black leather jacket. Straight black hair long enough to sit on and an athletic build completed the masterpiece.

Some quick math in his head had Duke guessing she might be 20. His breath caught in his chest when her seemingly neon green eyes captured his and she smiled.

Her stiletto boot heels clicked louder than the noise the train made. She walked straight and stopped immediately in front of him.

“Hi,” he whispered, unable to close his mouth.

She pulled a business card from her clutch purse and handed it to him.

The card said “Misha Meyers, 694-555-1234”.

Dropping to her knees in front of him was completely unexpected and Duke nearly jumped from his seat.

Her hands quickly found the zipper of his fly and tugged.

“What are you…?” Slipping the card into his coat pocket, his hands mocked protest.

Ignoring any question, perhaps she thought the answer was obvious, she swiftly slipped her hand into his briefs and produced a hard penis. Lips smiling, and quickly licked, she went to town.

He tensed as his erection was completely sheathed in her mouth. Her soft lips squeezed around the base and her hands cuddling his balls. The only thing stopping her was the back of her throat, which Duke felt the tip of his cock hit.

She moaned as she tried to vacuum him even deeper. Her eyes glared at his while she sucked harder.

“Holy fuck.”

Her mouth released him with a gasp as she caught her breath. Quickly she was back on her feet and moved her knees to the seat, either side of him.

He saw no such thing, but was stunned by the tightness of her pussy as she lowered herself on to him. Obviously, she wore no panties.

As she lowered, her lips purred her approval. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned forward and bit his ear lobe. Two words were then whispered into that ear in a low sultry voice, “Call me…”

…the train took a particularly harsh turn causing a bump and squeak that woke Duke. The woman from his dream sat most of the way down the car from him.

Shaking his head, he stood. His pants were in the same state as they were when he had gotten on the train. With his stop next…good thing the bump had woken him…he moved to the door.

The young woman down the car looked up with white headphone cords draping from under her hair.

Duke gave her a tight smile, which she lightly returned. As the door opened, however, Duke almost swore he saw her wink.

The platform was, again, empty as the steel stallion squeaked away.

Duke stepped back out into the snow and made his brief walk trudging to his apartment. Walking up the brownstone steps, he entered and turned into the first floor apartment. He pulled his coat off to hang it and a small white card fell from the pocket.

It read: “Misha Meyers, 694-555-1234”

Scribbled in red pen below that, “Call me! XXX”.

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