On The Train

Do you travel to work each day on mass transit?

If you do, then I'm sure you understand this story.

I hope you enjoy this read, and look forward to hearing from you when you're done.

Thanks.

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Living in the 'burbs was just fine with me. I know, most guys my age...twenty three...would rather be where the action and the girls were, but I enjoyed the fresher air, trees and grass. Even the squirrels and raccoons were entertaining. I had a nice apartment / suite in the basement of a nice... hell, very nice... house, on a quiet street, in a quiet neighbourhood. It was... quiet. I like quiet.

If there was a disadvantage to my semi-rural address, it was that I worked in the city, in one of those god awful, skyscraping monstrosities of glass and steel. There, it was anything but quiet, but that made the contrast of my home location all the more peaceful.

Getting to work could have been a nightmare, but fortunately, the area had access to the commuter train network servicing the city, with a station a mere five minute drive from my home. That kind of commute I could handle; five minutes of nonexistent traffic, then sit comfortably for ninety minutes, while someone else drove. Even better, the schedule was very consistent, getting me there with a fifteen minute cushion, everyday.

Since all of the people on the train with me were from a similar situation, that being a suburban one, everyone was pretty calm, and relaxed. Friendly, too.

Which brings me to the point of all this rambling. The friendly bit.

I first noticed 'her' on a Monday. It was a rainy day, so rather than looking out the window, I actually watched the passengers getting on, at the stop after mine. Raincoats and umbrellas were everywhere, as were weather induced frowns. Still, she stood out.

Tall, partly because of the sexy stilettos on her pretty feet, I first noticed her because she was alone, and smiling, despite the damp skies. She sat across the aisle from me, one seat down, facing my direction. She was dressed nicely, if conservatively, in a monotone of greys and blacks, which contrasted nicely against her long, striking blonde hair. She projected confidence, crossing her legs while she thumbed her phone, and it was the crossing of her legs that truly got my attention.

You know how some guys are 'ass men', and others like other parts of a woman's body? I wasn't like that. I like my women the way I like my music, which would be to say 'varied'. My tastes follow one rule, that there are no rules. I like what I like, and I know it when I see it. Right now, I liked that leg.

Smooth, shapely, and apparently well muscled, her left calf had my focus. She was dangling her shoe off her toes, while she read the screen of her phone. She was oblivious to my observing gaze, but I kept a low profile anyway, trying not to stare.

Every time she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, the motion in the corner of my view made me shift my eyes from the reinstated landscape passing out the window, to her very attractive legs. I took a better look at her.

She had loosened the belt on her raincoat, which made it hide her body in its ambiguous folds, so I couldn't get a more detailed impression of her, other than her height. I would have put her in her mid thirties, and she was quite pretty, with blue eyes.

The train slowed, and she looked up, then tucked her phone away and stood, anticipating the end of her journey. It was my stop too, but she was way ahead of me, and I lost her in the crowd before I cleared the station.

Oh well. Off to work. The distraction was nice while it lasted.

***

Days passed, and she was conspicuous in her absence. Well, to me anyway. I had been eager to board the train Tuesday, hoping to get a better look at her, but at her stop, she didn't show up.

I admit it never occurred to me to look elsewhere on the train. I was a creature of habit, and always went to the same car, and sat in the same group of seats, if not the exact same one. I guess I assumed she was the same, as it appeared to apply to nearly everyone in the car, most of whom I knew by sight. Not by name, mind you. The conversations never got quite that deep.

Anyway, since it had been several days since that first time, I had mentally written her off as a pleasant memory, and was reading a book on my tablet. The train stopped, people got on, and it started up again.

"Excuse me," a voice said, "are these seats taken?"

I glanced up... It was her!

"Um, no," I replied, "Please, help yourself."

"Thank you," she smiled, and slipped into the seat across from me.

Outwardly, I went back to reading my book, but inside, I was trying to focus on my peripheral vision. I shifted in my seat, angling the tablet to put the corner of it in her direction. I could now simply change my focus, and steal glances at her.

She was looking out the window, watching the countryside go by on this, a much more pleasant, sunny day. From this range, I was easily able to evaluate her better, and let me tell you...the view was delicious. She wasn't merely pretty ; she was stunning, and her eyes weren't really blue, tending more toward green. Her neck, long and slender, had an elegance that fit her. Despite the sunshine, it was still spring, and her raincoat remained in place, although fastened loosely. Then there were her legs, of course, crossed and looking so perfectly formed as to be those of a dancer.

I spent the balance of the trip pretending to read, for the most part, while spying on her. The sun shone on her blonde, near platinum mane, and her eyes sparkled. Finally, the train began to brake, and she gathered herself to depart, but this time, I stayed close enough to see which way she went when we reached the street. It was idle curiosity, not stalking, and I turned toward my own office.

***

Somehow, it never occurred to me that I might see her on the homeward leg of my commute, but that's what happened that day. She was on the train already when I boarded, sitting in the same seat as in the morning, with 'my' seat still vacant.

"May I?" I laughed, as it was my turn to ask permission. She smiled, and gestured to the chair.

"Of course," she said. "Twice in the same day...we simply must stop meeting like this. People will talk," she laughed softly.

"Heaven forbid," I snickered, taking my seat. I took out my tablet, planning another trip of pretend reading.

"Isn't technology wonderful?" she smiled.

"I'm sorry?" I replied, not following her point.

"The tablet. I saw you reading this morning. Remember when reading a book meant carrying a big, heavy pile of paper?"

"Oh. Yeah," I laughed. "No matter how many books I load, it never gets any heavier."

"Android or Apple?" she asked, leaning forward a bit to see.

"Android," I answered. "Never really cared for the iPad, or iPhone, for that matter."

"I agree," she smiled. "I do the same with my phone...reading books, I mean." She turned the screen to show me a text page. "Reading anything good?"

That started a cheerful conversation, about books, technology, and the like. The fact that we were talking was fine with me. When you talk to someone, you generally look at them, and she was very easy on the eyes. Her stunning perfection was marred only by a few tiny lines, caused by her frequent smile. It was the most enjoyable commute I'd ever had, but came to an end when we reached her stop.

"Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?" she smiled as she stood.

"I look forward to it," I replied. Oh boy, do I ever.

***

I virtually sprinted onto the train the next morning, as though that would speed up the train, and 'her' arrival. I didn't even know her name. Maybe I'd fix that today.

As the train rolled into the station where she would be boarding, I scanned out the window, looking at the crowd of heads, hoping to see a flash of blonde shining in the sun. I was unsuccessful. It was disheartening. As the train started to pull away, I continued to stare out the window, and finally sensed a presence beside me.

"Hi!" she chirped, taking the seat across from me again. "Good morning!"

"Morning!" I replied. "For a minute there, I thought I'd be lonely today."

"No, just came in from the other door," she smiled. "Besides, it's much more fun to have someone pleasant to talk to."

Mmmmm. Someone pleasant to talk to. I was happy with that designation. For now at least. Still, names might make it easier. 'Hey you...blondie, with the great legs'...only works once. Maybe twice.

I looked up from my musings, and she was taking off her coat, folding it neatly across her lap.

Whoa! Curse the raincoat! It had kept me from appreciating those.

Okay, I was now officially fully attentive. Despite her quite conservative office attire, she was definitely packing a pair that had somehow escaped my notice. I held out my hand.

"I'm Alex, by the way," I smiled.

"Sam" she giggled, taking my hand and returning the smile. I frowned.

"No. Sam is a butcher. Sam is a grizzled war veteran. I can't call an exquisitely beautiful woman 'Sam'," I said. It was a bit over the top, and not really intended as a flirt, but true.

Her mouth was hanging open, and she blushed.

"Why, um, thank you," she demurred. "You can call me Samantha, then. No one has called me beautiful in years."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Been hanging around a lot of blind people, have you?" I laughed.

"No, but maybe my husband has selective blindness," she replied. Her eyes sparkled at the compliments, and she looked at me for a long few seconds.

Our conversation the rest of the way was unremarkable, but she was right. Having someone pleasant to talk to really did pass the time better. Especially someone pleasant to look at.

***

For the next few days, things remained largely the same, with one exception. A bit more mild flirtation was mixed in, and she seemed to be leading things in that direction.

It was the next week that saw the biggest change. Some might put it down to warmer weather, but I had a feeling that her temperature was causing the wardrobe change. At least I hoped so, but either way, Samantha, who already had my imagination running wild with her subtle teasing, was dressed to provoke a reaction. She got it. I had to keep my travel bag on my lap to hide it.

A minty green colour, her dress was light, airy, and flowed softly when she walked onto the train. It fit her upper half like a second skin, and showed more cleavage than I'd seen her display before. Not a blatant, 'come and get some' amount, but certainly a delicious taste of what lay beneath. The skirt ended just above the knee, and when she crossed her legs as usual, a tantalizing bit of smooth thigh peeked out. I was stunned.

"Good morning, Alex," she sang happily.

"Wow, Samantha...that's some dress!" I smiled. "I mean, good morning to you too."

"You like it?" she cast her bait.

Hell yes, I thought.

"I know it's a bit much for work, but it's such a lovely day out, I couldn't resist," she laughed, holding my gaze. "It's not too, revealing, is it?"

Oh fuck...how do I answer that with a straight face. Besides, what good is my opinion now? The train has literally left the station.

"Um, no," I mumbled.

"I don't mind attracting a little attention," she smiled, heading down flirtation lane again. "Makes me feel like a woman."

"Oh, you definitely are that," I replied, trying not to stare. She was married, after all. Probably best not to get an appetite for a buffet that's closed.

She was a fun commute companion, with a wicked, dry sense of humour that often lead toward a subtle flirt or ribald observation. Like I said, I tried not to stare, but she was just so dammed attractive, with those greenish eyes, platinum waves, and very kissable lips, not to mention the delights below the neck. She didn't seem to mind my gaze on her, at any rate.

With the train approaching our stop downtown, we both gathered our stuff and walked back to the door. Every since we started talking, we had walked the three blocks of our mutual route together, until location of work forced us to part. We continued to talk as the train slowed, and she was adjusting her purse strap, when it stopped with a lurch she wasn't prepared for.

She stumbled, doing a full body plant against my chest. I caught her, my arm wrapping around her waist. She still had those big, soft breasts crushed into me as she recovered, looking into my eyes. I held her, relishing the feel of her body in my grasp, regardless of the cause.

"I'm fine, thanks," she giggled, as the doors opened, and people started flowing around us like we were rocks in a stream. "You can let me go now."

But, what if I don't want to? I thought. I kind of like this.

Reluctantly, I released her, and we fell in with traffic. She kept casting these little sideways glances at me, with a little grin on her face. Maybe she enjoyed it too. Finally we arrived at the point of divergence.

"See you tonight?" she smiled, and I nodded. "Okay, have a good day." Off she went, and I looked back once to watch her ass sway under the light dress. She was looking back, too, and smiled, waving her fingertips.

I was near useless at work that day, reliving the sensation of her body against mine. My imagination wasn't helping any. Every time I pictured her in that dress, it seemed to get smaller, shorter and tighter, until my mental picture had her boobs bulging out deliciously, and the skirt barely covered her ass.

She beat me onto the train, and was sitting in 'our' section when I boarded. I was happy to see that her dress hadn't shrunk, the way it did in my head. Maybe a little disappointed, too. Another thing that hadn't shrunk was her smile. Still as big and bright as ever.

I took my seat as usual, and she told me about her day. In one of our conversations, she had told me that her husband wasn't a very good listener, so she often found herself internalizing the events of the day, instead of letting them go. She was a little sad when she told me that, but very grateful when I offered to be her sounding board on the trip home.

"I turned a lot of heads today," she giggled, shaking her shoulders teasingly. Her boobs swayed with the motion, and my eyes couldn't help falling to follow them. "It was fun. Every guy in the office was especially friendly. A few of the girls, too," she smiled. "I may have identified a few with lesbian leanings. I didn't think it was that sexy," she gestured to the dress, which was showing me a bit more thigh, right now.

"Hmmm, it's cute," I smiled, "but the sexy comes from inside. You feel good dressed that way, so that side of you comes out. You like being wanted. Most women do." I may have said too much, but she smiled back.

"Thank you for the compliment," she said softly, and seemed to be deep in thought for a while. I left her alone, but when her stop arrived, she stood and went to the door. Just before she stepped off, she turned her head, smiled, and nodded.

Until tomorrow, I thought.

***

Days turned into weeks, and we were becoming very good friends. I became part girlfriend, part therapist, and she told me things about her life that she probably shouldn't have. Things that made me sad. Things that made me angry. Things that made me, well...horny.

She sprinkled some more interesting items into her wardrobe, careful not to show too much, or too often, but with her smile, beauty and curves, a burlap sack would be sexy. I was beginning to question her motivation for dressing the way she was. Some of it seemed to be directed solely at me.

One day, she boarded wearing a royal blue dress and calf high boots, with spike heels. The dress buttoned all the way up the front, from just below the knees, to her neck. It was tailored to fit her like a glove. At the bottom, she had a few undone, to make it easier to walk. At the top, a few left unbuttoned showed a touch of cleavage.

She was quieter than usual, and I finally had to ask if she was okay.

"Yeah, sorry, Alex. Just have a lot on my mind today." She spun around and took the seat next to me. "You don't mind, do you?" I shook my head. She rested against my shoulder. "I wish I had more people like you in my life," she sighed. "I'd be a lot happier."

When we walked from the train to her office, she was still very quiet.

"I'll be waiting for you here, this afternoon...if that's alright?" she asked, touching me on the shoulder.

"Of course, Samantha," I replied. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Ask me again later, okay?" she smiled. "Have a good day at work."

I was concerned about her. She didn't seem herself, but I had a very busy day at my office, and she was forced from my mind for a time.

***

"Hi Alex!" she giggled as I walked up to her on the sidewalk that afternoon. "How was your day?"

"I thought that was my line?" I said, surprised. She seemed happier now.

"Oh, my day was fine," she smiled, "and now that you're here, it's looking better. Shall we?" She offered her arm.

This was new, but I hooked arms with her and off we went. I couldn't help noticing that a few more buttons at either end of the string were unfastened, and I could clearly see much deeper into her cleavage. Walking in those spiked heels gave her a nice bit of jiggle, drawing my eyes even more.

When we boarded the train, and she took her seat, I noticed how far up she was undone. Walking or standing didn't really show much, but as she crossed her legs, half her thigh came into view. I glanced down, then up, and she was watching me. She smiled wider, taking the seat next to me again.

"I'm sorry Samantha," I began, "I didn't mean to..."

"Don't apologize, Alex," she interrupted. "I wore it for you. I've noticed the way you look at me...my legs...my breasts...and I like it," she whispered, leaning closer. "I've made a decision."

Oh my, I thought. If she's saying what I think she's saying, I'm gonna freak out.

"How old do you think I am, Alex?" she asked, looking at me with those green, soul searching orbs.

Oh fuck. What kind of a question is that to ask a guy to answer? Answer too high, and you insult her. Too low, and it comes off as cheap flattery. Frigging landmine. That's what it is. Oh, what the fuck.

"I would guess, oh...thirty five?" I ventured.

"You're so sweet, but no..." she smiled, "...I'm forty seven. I've been married for twenty eight years, to the same man, who hasn't looked at me that way for at least a decade. I was beginning to think I'd never feel that tingle...of being desired...ever again. Until I met you."

That buffet I was avoiding? Apparently just opened up again.

I looked around. Everyone was in their own little world...reading, listening to music, blabbing aimlessly. No one was paying us any attention.

"Alex..."she breathed, licking her lips,"...I'm going to get up, and walk to the bathroom over there. I'm going to step inside, and I'd like it very much if you'd join me in about two minutes. Knock twice. If I don't hear from you within five minutes, I think it would be best if I didn't see you anymore. I've kind of played all my cards at once, and if you're not interested, maybe you should tell me now, before I embarrass myself further."

Are you kidding me? Two minutes will be an eternity.

"Knock twice, you say?" I asked.

She smiled, and stood up, trying to walk like someone who needed to go pee, not like someone who wanted to get laid. The restroom door was around the corner, in a little alcove, and she disappeared from view.

I glanced at my watch, counting the seconds. Fuck! Is one minute close enough?