True Sex Stories: Tube Ride

"On the tube in the morning, people look at me and know. The scent of sex oozes from my pores. My nipples are stiff. I cross my legs, right knee over left, and also my arms."

The cutoff shirt is gauzy beachwear. The sleeves are short, and it leaves my belly bare. There's no binding bra underneath, but, as a concession to the weather, I have a leather jacket draped over the back of the chair. The panties are a pink g-string that leave the outline of my pussy lips visible. Squeezing into black leather pants that conform to every curve, I tighten the laces over the crotch and tie a loopy knot. I look for my socks and follow with the low heeled ankle boots.

I consider myself in the mirror once I have dressed. My hair is in disarray. Twirling it into a bun and sloping the headband over top, I make the best of it as quickly as I can. So that I look less like a panda, I clean the makeup ringing my eyes in the bathroom sink. I rinse my mouth with Listerine.

On the tube in the morning, people look at me and know. The scent of sex oozes from my pores. My nipples are stiff. I cross my legs, right knee over left, and also my arms.

The man is already faceless and anonymous. He plied me with cocktails and persuaded me with laughter. He had taken my measure over drinks well enough to name me properly.

"Do you like that, slut?" he inquired. Without waiting for a reply, he spun the tip of his tongue around my clitoris again.

He took the penis from my mouth and pointed it vertical, lifting his scrotum up. "Lick them like a dog," he said, once I spread my jaw and took both balls past my lips. When he brought his cock down, I squinted along the shaft and saw the streak of saliva, dazzling for its whiteness in the dark pubic hair.

"Oh, you dirty slag," he exclaimed, when I sucked the spit from his cock and poured it into his open mouth. He held the back of my head to steady me while we kissed, and he jacked his shaft as our two tongues tasted each other.

"Pussy," he exhaled, as his cock dragged into me. My lower legs gripped his sides. An arm wrapped his shoulder. I held on and moaned wordlessly.

"Yes, yes, yes," I gasped, as the cock muscled into the tight space behind. "Anal bitch," he dubbed me after sliding the erection the whole way in. I squeaked and grunted nasally and cupped my fingers over my clit. My elbows buckled at the force of the pounding I received.

"Come bucket," he said, when I rubbed his semen into my tits. He made a movie of it on his cell phone.

Republished with permission from Leah Lays London. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.