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I live in a suburb of Chicago. I have lived there my whole life. I went to college in downtown Chicago and now I work there as well. I take the train back and forth to Chicago. It has become second nature to me. It’s not that bad. I have gotten used to the motion of the train and I frequently read or listen to books. Sometimes it’s crowded, especially Friday afternoons or during the holiday season when lots of shoppers go to the Magnificent Mile. You might think it’s a boring life, working on taxes and going back and forth, but I have my distractions. Instead of fighting all the other commuters Friday night, I often go bar hopping near Rush Street. I save my money and go on beach vacations in the Caribbean and I once went to French Polynesia. But there are times when the routine gets to me. It’s not unusual to see the same faces on the train in the morning, day after day. The ride home is different since people leave work at different times. That’s a different set of familiar faces. But during tax season, I always work late and I am never sure when I’m going home.
One night, it wasn’t that early or late, but the train was jam-packed with people. There had been a signal problem causing the cancellation of earlier trains. Consequently, my train was packed. I put my earbuds in to listen to music and, although I had to hang on to to a strap and stand the whole ride, I didn’t mind. I was in my own world. As the train rocked us back and forth, bumping into each other was unavoidable. I kept a firm grip on my purse—after all, this was Chicago. Once when the train jerked, I bumped into woman standing next to me. I apologized and she understood. I made a more concerted effort to keep my stance. When the train jerked again, I did not bump into the woman next to me, but someone bumped into me from behind. I turned briefly and there was man, a little taller than I, wearing cowboy boots, blue jeans, a blue jean jacket, and a t-shirt. The stubble on his face made him look rugged, but those piercing green eyes convinced me he had the soul of a poet. He apologized and I told him it was okay. He really stood out since most people, like myself, were wearing trench coats or rain coats. I listened to the music, but my mind was on this cowboy. Occasionally, I would steal a glance at him, pretending like I was looking out the window. He was lean and I could tell he worked with his hands. I smiled at him and he smiled back. I pretended not to be interested. I shuffled my feet to back into him. When the train lurched forward, I felt him briefly. I closed my eyes, imagining my cowboy.
We were living out on the prairie. I was cooking a hardy meal for him. He had been gone all day and I missed his touch, even though he hadn’t been gone that long. The door opened and light from the setting sun lit his profile from behind. He shut the door, took me in his arms and gave me a big kiss. I pushed him away playfully and told him I had to cook. He went to the bathroom to wash up a little. When he came out, I placed a plate full of food in front of him and an ice-cold beer. I watched him as he devoured the food. He looked at me, reached out, and took my hand. He moved closer and kissed my hand. I smiled at him. I stood up to clear the table. He stood up too. I cried out as he picked me up and carried me to our brass four poster bed. I tried to get away, but he pulled me by my ankles toward him and roughly started taking off my clothes. I reached up and ripped the shirt away from him and fumbled with his belt zipper. He moved back and lowered his jeans and boxers and pulled his boots off. His big cock hung before me, looking like a beast. He forcefully pulled my panties down. They were still around one of my ankles as he got on top of me. No foreplay tonight. He just wanted to fuck. I screamed as he shoved that cock into me. I grabbed his shoulders as he fucked me like an animal. I grunted with every down stroke as he filled me up. Suddenly, he stopped. I whimpered as he pulled out. But I also tried to get away. I got on my stomach and tried to crawl away. He pulled me by my ankles again, grabbed my hips and lifted my ass up. I felt his cock at the entrance of my pussy and I cried out again as he shoved that warm column of flesh into me again and again. He held my hips as he fucked me. Then I felt his finger rubbing my asshole. He coated his finger with the fluids oozing from my pussy. I screamed as he pressed his finger into my ass as he fucked my pussy.
The train lurched again and he bumped into me from behind. It felt good. My pussy was moist thinking about us. Another bump and I practically came. I swear he knew what he was doing to me. I even thought I felt his hand on my ass, but it was hard to tell with all my clothes.
The train came to my station. I looked at my cowboy and left the train. Rushing home, I took off my clothes in a frenzy, and got my vibrator. I worked it around my pussy until I came like crazy.
I looked for my cowboy whenever I rode the train, but I became increasingly disappointed when I didn’t see him. I started working even later because of tax season. Sometimes there would only be a few people in the car. One night I sat in a daze. I thought I was dreaming when I saw my cowboy walking down the aisle. He recognized me and asked if he could sit next to me. I didn’t say anything. I just made room for him, making sure some of my leg was visible for him to see. He introduced himself and I introduced myself to him. He said he thought I was very pretty and I told him I thought he was handsome. He looked around. I was shocked, but pleased when he placed his rough hand on my knee and then caressed a little farther up.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I told him. These double decker trains are wonderful to get away from other people. Especially at night, everyone tends to stay on the first level. I went first so he could check me out as we each climbed up the spiral stairs to the second level. There was one person there at the far end sleeping. I sat across from my cowboy. He leaned forward and kissed me. I kissed him back as I felt his hands on my legs. I leaned back as his hands kept exploring my body. He reached up and brazenly started feeling me up. I leaned into him again, and kissed him frenetically, shoving my tongue into his mouth. I felt his hand rub me between my legs. I stood up and looked around. No one watched, except my cowboy, as I lowered my panties and stepped out of them. I took the panties and put them in my purse. I sat back down, raised my skirt and showed him my pussy. His mouth was gaping and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. I spread my lips apart so he could see everything. He leaned down and tried, as best he could, to lick my pussy. I felt his tongue flick around and I held his head in my hands. This was even better than my fantasy. Although he could not get in there as much as I wanted, it was still incredibly exciting to do this on a train.
“Stand up,” I told him. I had him move as close as he could and I unzipped his jeans, fishing inside his pants to pull his cock out. It was everything that I imagined and more. Nice and thick. Big too. I took him in my mouth sucked for all I was worth. I felt his hand on the back of my head, moaning around his cock, and I no longer caring if someone could hear or see us. He pushed my head forward so I had almost the whole thing in my mouth. I started to gag and I backed off. A string of cum and saliva connected his cock to my mouth. I wiped it away with the back of my hand. I had him sit back down. I looked around. We were still okay, but I had a feeling the sleeping guy really wasn’t sleeping. I straddled my cowboy’s legs and lowered myself onto him. I moaned deeply as he entered me and I steadied myself on his shoulders. His cock spread me open and I gave his cock a pussy massage. I felt his hands on my tits. He buttoned my blouse. When a nipple peeked out from my bra, he sucked on it. I wanted to scream, but I dared not to. Instead I concentrated on riding that hot penis. I gripped him on every upstroke and plunged hard on every down stroke. Then I stopped on a down stroke so I could savor the feeling. He filled my little pussy with cock. I sat there and started to grind my hips into him so my clitoris would feel it more. This was so good. I felt his hands on my hips. He tried to move me up and down. I knew what he wanted. I started to go up and down on his cock really fast. I liked it too. Then he held me tight and groaned as his cock squirted inside my pussy. I held myself in place and worked my clit against him and I groaned as I came too. Our combined fluids dribbled down his cock. I got off of him. I looked around and I’m pretty sure that guy back there was pretending to sleep. I looked at my cowboy.
“Did you like that? I sure did,” I said. He nodded in amazement. He tucked that cock back into his jeans and zipped up. I retrieved my panties from my purse and put them back on, like that was going to stop the fluids from flowing out of me. I sat on his lap. These railroad cars were not meant for anything like this, but it worked for us.
“Next stop is mine,” I said.
“When will I see you again,” he asked. I took a pen from my purse and wrote my number on his hand.
“Call me. Real soon,” I told him. The train decelerated and I left him.
We have kept in touch. We’ve even recreated our first meeting and our first fuck. What can I say? Commuting can be fun.