Chain Links and the Rail Marshall

Metro Tunnel by ...some guyGrant pulled his black leather jacket tighter around him. Not real leather, of course, but not like one could tell the difference anymore. He leaned against the brown tiles and waited. The beaten black New York Yankee ballcap was kept high enough for his eyes to roam the platforms.

Emblazoned in large black letters carved out in the tile above him was the name Nelson.

Nelson Station, being one of Sexton City’s busiest transit hubs, was where Grant spent a lot of time. There were always people here.
Even now, three in the morning on a Tuesday, there were three other people waiting for trains on the opposite platform.

Rare as it was, Grant had his platform to himself. Of course, he rode these rails with no destination in mind. He was Sexton Transit undercover security that rode random trains along the system in order to keep things safe. At least that was the plan, but it was a dangerous city.

A six-car train pulled into the station and nestled squeaking into the platform opposite where Grant waited. It emptied out some people and pulled away again after the three waiting souls had boarded. As it vanished, a petite blonde came rushing down the north stairs into the platform pushing past the two left by the train, disappointed seeing her carriage already gone. Her black skirt was knee-length with black nyloned legs disappearing into the black boots that covered up her calves. Her coat came down to her waist and was all black save the salting of snow on her shoulders.

At this time in the morning, trains were twenty minutes apart.

She sat with a huff on a bench. Her leg crossing caused the shirt to ride up her muscles thighs.

Grant tried not to stare. This was not an easy trick as she looked good, and it was not as if Grant had much else to look at. He knew all the wall poster ads too well. His shift caused the leather jacket to creak and his blue jeans to swish.

Her blue eyes caught his long enough to cause both to look away.

Feeling the guilt bubble in his belly, Grant looked back to see a tight grin on her blushing face.

Her eyes returned to him again. This time the gaze held.

Grant figured her to be early twenties, about half his age, but he knew he looked good for forty-something.

She stood up, her boot heels clicking together. Reaching into her black purse, she produced sunglasses, and put them on. With a big smile at Grant she walked back to the north stairs and climbed them, vanishing away.

Having enjoyed the view, his stomach switched bubbles from guilt to disappointment. That did not last, however, as he heard the click of not heels coming down the north stairs on his platform.

She stopped halfway. A finger on her lips suggested she wanted silence first, but it pulled from her lips to point at him and curl in a beckoning gesture top follow.

Not entirely certain what she had in mind, he did. Ten paces behind, it felt like he floated up the stairs.

The blonde walked through the lobby of the station, out the exit turnstile and out the glass doors.

Grant followed with a sense of tempered excitement taking over the stomach bubble. It was as though he were no longer in control of his body and just observing.

Outside she turned left and picked up her pace as a security force vehicle sailed past with sirens blasting. At the far end of the building she turned left again down a dark walkway between Nelson Station and the Nelson Brewery next door.

He continued to follow. One of the alley lights gave Grant a silhouetted view as she reached the chain-link fence at the end of the path, leaned forward, and lifted her skirt.

Her bottom was bare. Again with finger on lips for silence, she looked back at him.

He unbuckled his belt and eased the zipper down. Lowering his pants and briefs to upper thigh, he held his quickly forming erection in his left hand. His right hand found her pussy lips, already wet. Thanks to the high boot heels, she was at the perfect height for him to ease the erection inside her wet warmth. Her light moan was the first time he heard her deep voice.

Both of her hands gripped the fence and hung on, causing a rattle with each thrust.

A hand placed on each of her hips, Grant thrust hard into her.

Moans became barks as her orgasm approached.

Feeling her pussy tense around him, he stopped thrusting and just held the erection deep inside her.

Shivers rippled through her and the moans grew louder. Her tension released and left her out of breath.

Grant pulled out.

Turning around to face him, she kissed him hard while her left hand wrapped around his moistened cock.

Grant opened his mouth but was silenced again, this time by her finger on his lips.

Lowering to a crouch, she first stroked his erection in her hand. Pulling it up out of the way, her tongue found his balls.

It was Grant’s turn to moan.

Her other hand slipped between his legs and found his anus. The finger nail of one finger began to probe just inside of him.

Almost losing his balance, he grabbed the chain-link for balance as well.

Her tongue ran up the length of the erection before her lips kissed the tip. Finally, she opened her mouth and sucked the penis in.

He could no longer hold it back but, being the gentleman he was, he had to whisper two words, “I’m cumming.”

She looked up at him and seemed to be grinning around his cock.

He let loose in her mouth.

No drops escaped and she swallowed before releasing her prey. Standing back up she kissed him again, giving him a taste of his own semen.

Grant collapsed against the fence as she stepped out from in front of him. He pulled his briefs back up and began to work his belt buckle.

Her boot heels clipped off at a run behind him.

Still putting his pants back together, he spun just in time to see her run around the corner back towards Nelson Station. “Dammit, girl.” He walked back and entered the station.

The sound of a train pulled away on the tracks below.

At the bottom of the stairs he saw the back windows of the train pulling away on the opposite platform. He was uncertain if his eyes played tricks, but he thought he saw her watching him from the back seat.

A second train, coming the opposite way, squealed brakes into the station.

Still shaking, Grant boarded the empty train car and sat on one of the sideways facing red fabric benches. He shook his head and repeated, “Dammit, girl.” A smile blossomed on his lips as his the train carried him out of Nelson Station.


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