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At the time this occurred several years ago, I was 23 years old and in the
best shape of my life. I had a great tan from working construction outdoors
all summer, and my stomach was hard and flat from the work. I was 182 cm,
82 kg, and the girls I dated had always told me I had a great body. This
made me feel good, but I always wondered what other women thought. I was
particularly interested in finding out if women could be inspired to act on
pure lust as easily as I could. I figured all you need was the right
approach - and the right woman. A tall order, but soon to be fulfilled.

It was late on a warm summer afternoon, and I was hot and sticky. I had
spent the day working at my summer job as a construction laborer and I was
dying to take a shower and drain a cold beer. I got out of the shower, and
was startled when I slipped on the water that had escaped from the partially
closed shower curtain. I knocked my head pretty good on the sink, but my
high school dance lessons paid off here. Arms flailing, I reached out and
hooked my foot on the empty toilet paper hanger. I then managed to grasp
the door knob with one hand. I hung, suspended momentarily, before the
toilet paper hanger gave way, sending me crashing the rest of the way to the
floor. Unabashed, I cooly collected my self, and stood to begin to shaving.
But the mirror was steaming up from the heat of the shower, so I opened a
small bathroom window to help clear the moisture from the mirror.

The building which was visible from the window had an office with a large
floor to ceiling window facing my house, notably with a good view of my
yard. This office was often of particular interest to me... the glass of the
window had a slight tint to it which partially prevented a clear view
inside, but it didn't completely obstruct the view. As I peered through the
window, I noticed two women seated at their desks chatting and appearing not
very interested in their work. One of the women, a brunette, appeared to be
in her late 30's. She was well dressed in a black skirt and light colored
blouse. She had full breasts that looked like they wanted to bust out of
her shirt. She looked to have that experienced, confident look that I
always found attractive. More than that, I also imagined that she had a
very developed sensuality about her. This I derived from the extremely sexy
yet tasteful choice of wardrobe I often had the opportunity to savor from a
distance. Her body language was exquisite, even when it seemed she had no
audience. This woman obviously took care of herself, and I reckoned she
could take care of her lovers in a way that only comes from experience - and
the right attitude! The other woman, a blonde of admirable proportion, was
younger, quite pretty and I could see she was also blessed with a fine,
tight ass.

I gazed at them long and hard. I began to fantasize about the brunette -
about walking into her office looking for a job and seducing her...

So I gave the brunette a name - Kathy. I was Bret to her... I carried on
with my fantasy...

---------------------------
Kathy Minken had already interviewed eight candidates for the new
job, and not a single one was really qualified. The legal firm that she
co-owned with two other women needed a new secretary. Someone to organize
the office, type legal documents, and many other clerical tasks. She only
had one candidate left, Bret Carens.
Bret was supposed to be in his first year of law school. Actually,
he lived just across the way from this Law Firm, and often admired these
fine ladies from his own home. He had heard that this prosperous firm
was owned by three intelligent young women, and he was intrigued by the
possibilities.
Kathy reluctantly told the secretary to let the next interview
candidate in. A minute later, the door opened, and Bret walked in the door.
Even in his sharp looking business suit, you could tell this tall
young man was solidly built with a firm chest. His face was perfectly smooth
and had a light tan. This face to die for, was accented by the clean-cut
short, dark hair. She stood up and welcomed him, trying not to be too
obviously distracted. He walked over, but somehow also seemed distracted.
In fact, Bret was taken aback by this stunning woman. She was a bit
older, but she looked to only be about thirty-three, and very healthy at
that. She was wearing a slightly tight black dress, that accented her
beautiful body. Under the desk he had just a glimpse of her fine legs.
Small ankles, like you'd find down South in the US, our perhaps in Paris if
you were in Europe. She had medium-length dark hair and a crystal clear
face. Her eyes were striking brown, with dark edges. She wore intriguing
small glasses today, and they seemed to mysteriously change color as the
light reflected off of them. She was mesmerizing at this close distance,
better even than he had imagined at the distance from where he had been
secretly admiring her.

As the interview went on, with both Kathy and Bret quite distracted.
Kathy started to realize that Bret might be willing and able to do more than
just clerical work. She decided she'd better feel out the situation some
more. "Bret, in addition to general office tasks, are there some special,
very exciting things that you could do for us." Bret wasn't sure, but he
thought, and hoped, he knew what she meant by that question. "Well, I can
do a number of very exciting things. I try to put my whole body and soul in
to my work." Now Kathy was sure they were on the same wave length. She
walked over to the couch on the side of her office, sat down and said, "why
don't you show me everything you can do."

Bret stood up, took off his jacket, revealing a beautiful outline of
his firm chest through his white shirt, and walked over to the couch. He
sat down next to her and they began to passionately kiss. They quickly
became lost in the foreplay of their tongues. Finally, Bret released her
tongue, and began to suck and lick her neck, as he moved down to her chest.
He pulled off her dress revealing her gorgeous firm body with nothing on
except a red bra, red panty, and black high heal shoes. He quickly removed
her bra and began to work on her left nipple. Kathy was almost lost in the
passion of his work.

Suddenly, Bret felt an almost overwhelming wave of excitement pulse
through his body as Kathy firmly grabbed his manhood through his pants. He
continued to massage her breasts with his tongue, while she began to unzip
his pants, and reach into his boxers. She enjoyed the glory of his tongue
on her breasts and her hand on his sex for a few more minutes, but then she
needed the rest of him. So she stood him up and pulled his pants all the
way down, exposing his gorgeous, powerful legs. Then she removed his
boxers, giving her, her first good look at his gorgeous hard cock pushing
his white shirt way out in front of him. Slowly, as they stood there
kissing, she unbuttoned his shirt, an expert touch requiring only one hand.
As she took off she stepped back and observed his entire naked body. It was
almost more than she could stand.
In the meantime, he began to remove her panties and high heals, and
admired her perfect, curvaceous body. She led him back on to the couch,
climbed on top of him, and began to suck every bit of life out of his
manhood. First, she licked the tip, sending shivers of excitement up his
spine, then she ran her tongue all up and down the length of his rod, then
she played with both of his balls in her mouth. Finally, she began to suck
repeatedly up and down his long shaft, faster, and faster, progressively
getting more and more of his shaft in her mouth...
--------------

Perhaps, I thought, the blonde would be listening to what was happening
through the door. Before leaving, the blonde would shoot me a knowing
smile. At the moment, with the thoughts that had been running through my
mind, I was delirious with excitement! I wanted to do something to inspire
the same feeling in these gorgeous women...
As I stood at the window watching the subjects of my thoughts, I wondered
what would go through their minds if they were aware that I was nude? Of
course there was a way to make them aware, but I would have to venture
outdoors nude to do it. I began to fantasize about these women watching me
walk around nude in my back yard. I had no desire to harm or offend them in
any way, and I hoped that observing me would turn them on, not the opposite.
Would this excite them, or would I end up getting thrown in jail? As I was
trying to come up with a semi-safe way to answer this question, I saw that I
had left the lawnmower on the back lawn, positioned no more than 30 feet
from the ladies' floor to ceiling office window. I quickly developed a plan
and decided to go through with it. I knew if I stopped to think about it
for very long, I would find a way to talk myself out if it. It was too
risky, I would be embarrassed, I would offend them. There were numerous
reasons to not continue immediately - but instead I wrapped a towel around
my waist and, wearing nothing else, walked to the lawnmower in the back
yard. Strangely, it seemed as moist and hot outside as it was in the heat
of the shower.

I did my best to keep from glancing towards the ladies in the window as I
walked through the yard. I wanted them to think I was unaware of their
presence, partially because it added to the turn-on, and partially to give
me an excuse if they decided to call the police. I stole a quick glance
toward the window as I neared the lawnmower and saw that my plan had worked.
The brunette was standing in front of the window motioning frantically for
her friend to come take a look. Now was the moment of truth. For a moment
I didn't know if I would have the guts to go through with it.

As soon as I thought they would both be in front of the window with a clear
view, I knelt down to check the gasoline level in the lawnmower. As I stood
up, I allowed my towel to fall to the ground. There I was, standing
completely naked in broad daylight, in front of two women I had never met.
I turned around casually and picked up my towel.

I saw the younger woman smile to the other, they exchanged a few words, and
the blonde was suddenly out of view. Only the older woman remained - she was
now holding what appeared to be a camera with an extremely long lens system
attached to it. This woman was clearly resourceful - in an instant, she was
communicating to me by moving her hand along length of the lens, stroking it
back and forth. She then raised the camera to her eye with a wry smile, and
peered at me through the lens. After a few moments, she had me in focus -
she took the camera away from her face, and formed her mouuth into a cute
pout, begging me to continue...

This woman was clearly interested in getting a good close-up view of
everything I had to offer. This time I couldn't resist, I reached down and
began to stroke my cock to it's maximum size as she intently gazed though
the window. If she wanted a close-up view I thought, I should surely give
her the best view I could! I knew that she was now able to see the veins
standing out on my sex. She could see the purple color of my cock head as
it twitched with pleasure. She watched me for about 10 minutes and seemed to
be squirming a little in her seat. Suddenly she got up and went back to the
closet. She came out holding a large piece of poster board with a large
phone number written on it. This was really going according to plan - this
woman was not afraid to act on her desires, and she seemed to like my
approach! But how far could this go? My heart was already pounding ... I
felt like I was practically at orgasm! She placed the poster on the floor,
leaning it against the glass of the window so that it was clearly visible to
me, and began to unbutton her blouse. She removed her blouse and bra,
revealing her beautiful breasts, nipples erect. I was dumbfounded. My
audience and I seemed to have something in common after all. We both liked
to show off! For what seemed like an eternity, my friend stood in front of
the window rubbing her nipples and kneading her breasts. The sensuous look
that was coming from her eyes glancing my way... the energy that was
building was becomming hard to contain! Soon she began to massage her sex
through her skirt. It was obvious that my friend had REALLY enjoyed looking
at me. I couldn't keep my hands off of my now aching cock. Fearing that I
would come all over the back yard if I didn't stop stroking myself, I let my
hard-on wave in the breeze as I walked to the side of the house and turned
off the hose. I turned and gave my friend a nice long profile pose, making
sure she could clearly see all of my ass and erect cock before I went inside
the house to phone her.

I took the portable phone into the bathroom to get a clear view of her as I
dialed her number. She was now sitting at her desk, facing the window with
her dress hiked up and her fingers in her snatch. "I liked the view you
gave me", I said as she answered the phone. "Don't you get cold running
around out there like that?" she asked. I told her how thinking of her made
me hot. "Where did you get that gorgeous tan?" she asked. I told her that
I worked construction and was able to take my shirt off most days. She said
" You know, I'm pretty open minded and I do love looking at you, but you
should be careful, there are people in the office who aren't so
appreciative." I thanked her for the warning and told her I would stop my
shows if she wanted me to. "No, Please don't have to do that!" she said,
"Just make sure I'm alone in the office when you decide to perform for me".
"Are you stroking yourself right now?" she asked. My cock was at it's
fullest as I pumped it and I told her so. I told her that watching her fuck
herself with her fingers was going to make me come any minute. "Do you jack
off a lot?" she asked. "I do every time I think of you watching me" I
responded. "That's a waste of beautiful cum, I want you to fuck my face, and
then bury that massive cock in my sex" she said. I asked if I could come to
her office and oblige her, but she declined. "Later", she said. I gave her
my phone number and she said "I'll call you." We both hung up and while
watching each other, we masturbated to a glorious climax.

That night as I was starting to drop off to sleep, she called. We talked
for quite awhile. Most of the conversation was phone sex, pure and simple.
She told me she was an amateur photographer. She wanted to photograph me in
the nude, she said, and if her fantasies were to come true, we would skip
the romance, talk dirty to each other, and fuck to our hearts' content!
This woman must have been reading my mind. It had always been a favorite
fantasy of mine to pose nude for an attractive female photographer, but I
had never believed my fantasy would come true! We agreed to meet at her
apartment the next evening. In what seemed like only a short moment, the
next evening was upon me. I found myself in my Ferrari driving toward her
apartment. Careening down the autoroute, I scarcely noticed the traffic
around me.

I arrived at her apartment wearing the tightest pair of Levi's that I owned.
Underneath I wore a small G-String, something that would really show off my
ass once we got to the photo shoot. I wanted to make sure I looked as
attractive to her as I possibly could. She answered the door wearing a
beautiful silk robe that came to mid-thigh. It appeared she was nude
underneath the robe by the way her nipples pressed against the soft fabric.
She poured us both a drink and finally told me her name was Regina. The
small talk which took up the next few minutes was hard for both of us to
concentrate on. We were both nervous and obviously anxious to get on with
our plans. Regina finished her drink and asked if I was ready to take a few
test shots. I readily agreed. We walked to a spare bedroom where she had
set up some bright lights and a sheet for a backdrop. In the center of the
room was a wooden bar stool with some clothes placed on it. She asked if I
would mind modeling the clothes she had picked out for me while she took her
photographs. I told her that she was in charge of the shoot, and I would do
whatever she wished. "Fine" she said, "Let's start with the cowboy hat and
those tight jeans of yours, but first, take off your shirt." I removed my
shirt to expose my tanned torso and my well defined pecs. I donned the hat,
which made me feel somewhat foolish. She giggled a little as she observed
my reluctance to the hat. Soon she began to become more comfortable with our
situation and said "You know, you are really a very attractive young man."
She stopped taking pictures for a moment and said " I'm certain I could get
you a test shoot with one or two of the magazines I work with, if you were
inclined to give it a try". I asked her which magazines she worked for, and
she said she didn't actually work for any of the magazines, but sometimes
sent photographs of particularly good looking men to magazines specializing
in beefcake.

I told her I would certainly think about her offer, and was privately very
flattered she thought I was attractive enough to have a chance. "Well, you
certainly wouldn't have to get over your shyness" she giggled. Regina then
snapped a few shots while asking me to turn this way and that. Soon she
said she was ready for the next set of shots. She handed me a very small
pair of yellow stretch bikini briefs and with a sly grin said "I bought
these with you in mind, I hope they stretch far enough." I un-buttoned my
jeans slowly as she stood staring at me with camera in hand. She smiled a
little when my pants were almost off and she saw I was wearing my G-string.
My cock was beginning to strain at the fabric of the G-string and she
noticed right away. "Wait", she said, as I began to remove the G-string, "I
HAVE to get a few shots of this." She took two shots of me in full length,
then moved closer to focus in on my abdomen and crotch. "Turn around", she
asked, "I've got to get that ass of yours on film." I complied with her
instructions, making an attempt to stuff my cock back into the G-string in
the process. As my back was turned to her, and I could see the flashes
going off on the backdrop, I felt her hand stroke my ass in a tender and
somewhat shaky fashion. She then grabbed my ass cheek and squeezed very
tightly and moaned.

She pressed her body to my back and reached around and rubbed my cock and
ball through the thin material. "Lets get on with it shall we?" she
whispered. I dropped the G-string to the floor exposing my cock to the
bright lights and her adoring view. I picked up the yellow briefs, and
began to put them on. She stopped me and said "I don't think we need those
anymore, do you?" I dropped the shorts, and asked her what pose she would
like. "I want you to stroke it for me" she moaned. I laid down on the
nearby bed, and began to slowly stoke my cock to over it's full length. She
moved to the edge of the bed snapping pictures as fast as the camera would
allow. She brought the camera to within inches of my rock hard cock and
snapped an extreme close-up of my sex. She then said she had an idea she
wanted to try out. Holding the camera in one hand, and focusing on my cock,
she placed her other hand around the shaft of my cock. Her small hand
nearly wrapped all the way around the width of my engorged cock. She
commented that this should make for an interesting picture as the flash of
the camera went off. She set the camera down without taking her eyes off of
me. She kneeled down next to the bed and began to lick the length of my
shaft. She then wrapped her hand around my cock and took the head into her
mouth. She clearly had plenty of experience in the art of cocksucking. I
reached around and pulled the belt of her robe, exposing her amazing body
for the first time. I fondled her breasts and asked her to lay next to me
on the bed.
"Now, how about an erotic massage?", I ask.
She runs her hand down my chest, smiling. Rolling over, she
gets comfortable - Suddenly, there comes a load crack from outside,
and the lights fail! We look around - it seems the whole block has
gone dark.
"Can't let a little power cut distract me..."
I put my hands on her back and find my way to her shoulders, feeling the
different muscles moving beneath my fingers. I apply a little pressure with my
fingertips to the places where I sense some tenseness, and gently rub with the
palms of my hands. I figure that I'm doing okay as she lets out a moan.
"Oh, Christopher. My God, that feels good!"
I continue what I'm doing and work my way down her back and up her sides.
I place my hands on her back again; I feel my heart pounding in my throat.
I also notice a comfortable feeling in my pants, and sweet adrenaline pulsing
in every part of my body. I continue moving over her fine body.
I feel her breath on my face, and smell wintergreen. She continues to
(I assume) look at me for a minute, then says, "Kiss me."
My mind races, as does my heart. I lean my head forward and her lips meet
mine. Her mouth opens slightly, and I open mine as well. Our tongues dance
together as I trace patterns on her back with my fingers. She releases a low
moan and holds me tighter, grinding her hips into mine. Her closeness has all
four of my senses in a tailspin.
Suddenly, she breaks the kiss, and whispers in a husky voice, "I want you.
Take me now!" she hisses. "Make love to me."
My mind lurches, and my mouth tries to follow suit. "We don't have any...
Mmffl!"
She quickly silences me with another kiss. "Yes, we do. Here... I'll
put it on for you. Her touch is exquisite. "And I am so _hungry_!"
With this, she starts to nibble on the base of my neck. Whatever resistance I
might have had (ha, ha, ha!) crumbles.
Regina pulls me close to kiss me again. I return the kiss passionately,
and notice a delicious scent coming from her... a scent that is quite arousing.
I start nibbling along the side of her neck. The scent I detected before is
even stronger, and is driving me crazy.
She leans her head against my chest and seems to purr. I feel her hand
grasp my ass and pull me forward. She puts her arms around my neck and
pulls me close. Wrapping her legs around one of mine, she squeezes her hips
against my thigh, and rubs back and forth. I push that leg into her, and my
own hips rock, seeming to move on their own.
"Urk!" I say suddenly when I feel her hand grab me between the legs.
Her lips brush agains my ear as she whispers, "Playtime is _over_!" She
takes my earlobe in her teeth and tugs gently as she squeezes my crotch.
I let my breath out with a long sigh. My hands slip forward and caress
the soft skin of her breasts. I feel her body shiver as my thumbs brush over
her nipples, so I take each one between the thumb and forefinger of each hand
and rub ever so gently. To say the least, the reaction I get is exquisite.
Regina moans rather loudly, pressing her hips into mine. I also feel her back
arch while she digs her nails into my back.
Her scratching hurts, and is stimulating at the same time. I reach
down to grab her wrists, and in a display of helplessness she whimpers as
I bind them together above her head. She pleads, "oh, please, I can't move...
are you going to hurt me with that big cock of yours?", and spreads her
legs even more, looking away...
"Yes," is all I am able to say in reply.

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I let my free hand slip down her side, over her hip, and along her
thigh. Regina's tongue flicks against my ear as my hand slips around to rub
her ass to my content - it was certainly making me hot, feeling the tight
ass of this shapely older woman, who continued to exude sexual energy
in every breath and movement below me.
I continue to tease her body with my hand and tongue, knowing the
eventual place I will come to - her wet and inviting sex that I can see
becomming fuller at every touch. I want to inspire this woman. It's time
to enter some discussion...
"You want me to touch your sex," I say.
"Yes"
"Tell me you've been watching me, and thinking about me at the
window..."
"I've been lusting over you. I need your hand on my sex, please...
don't make me wait... I've waited long enough, haven't I?"
"You've been a bad girl, spying on me," I insist.
"I am a bad girl. I'll do anything - please - let me pleasure you.
I have secrets. Let me tell them to you. MAKE me tell you...", she pleads.
I turn her over in a swift movement, spank her lightly, and run
my hand down the crack of her ass, around to her sex. I touch it lighty,
circling, and command, "Talk. Tell me."
"I have many stories - I must tell you a very special one. But
you must not stop pleasing me, and spanking me, I beg of you. I have been
so long without pleasure. You pleasure me. Never stop, even if I beg
you to..."
"Begin," I say, and as she tells me an incredible story, I work
her body. I caress her when she speaks of caresses, I penetrate her when
she speaks of penetration...
--------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the end of the month of May, a Wednesday, about 6:30, in the
metro. It's extremely uncomfortable to take the metro then, because of the
enormous crowds in all the cars--pressed against each other, sometimes in
direct contact with people less clean... I had nothing to do that afternoon,
having completed a meeting with some collegues near the Aeroport, and I had
gone to Paris to shop in the big stores.

Coming back, I had an adventure which, even in my imagination, which is
sometimes quite lively and a little crazy, I could never have invented.

I got on at Chaussee d'Antin, direction Levallois; I was thinking of
changing at Saint-Lazare. Terrible crowd, packed cars, you push as hard as
possible in order to get into the car. Outside it was very hot, and it was
hotter in the metro, so I was wearing a mini-mini-skirt and a blouse; no
underwear, as always, but a bra, very light, which didn't hide much of my
chest.

I was carrying a paper bag in my hand with a sweater I had bought, and
I had my handbag over my shoulder.

I climbed into a car and was pushed toward the back by all the people
who wanted to get on behind me; when the door closed, we were all packed
like herrings in a can. I thought of a song that I heard one time: "If We
Could Unpack the Sardines."

My arms were trapped against the length of my body. I could not make
the slightest movement, held fast in front, behind, to the right and the
left by other passengers. I was almost against the back door of the car;
there was only one other person, behind my back, between this door and me.

In my unhappiness, half-asphyxiated, I found that I was in luck,
because the people surrounding me seemed nice, as far as I could tell by
appearances. By chance, after everyone pushed on, I was left facing, as
squashed as I was, a woman of about 23 years with a face sort of like mine.
We exchanged smiles which seemed to say "We can only suffer in patience."

The metro moved about a thousand feet or so, when I sensed very clearly
a hand behind me, placed on my buttocks. This sort of thing had never
happened to me on the metro, although my friends have told me of having
such "attacks," from which they vehemently recoiled, but I thought they
were lying, because I had never been the subject of such "adventures," as
they say.

But there it was. A hand, firmly pushing against my buttocks. You
should know that it isn't my nature to protest against a thing like
this--au contraire. By contracting the muscles of my behind, I tried to
make understood to this hand, that I appreciated its audacity.

But whose hand was this? I knew there were three men behind me: one
immediately behind and another at each side. Which of the three? I didn't
dare turn around in fear that the man would take my movement for a rebuff.

After all, it wasn't important whose hand it was. I was delighted that
this was happening; I forgot the extreme inconveniences of the metro at
6:30 in seeing, or feeling, the enormous advantages that came with it.

The hand caressed my behind, constantly. A well put together hand,
moving with gentleness and firmness. I closed my eyes in order to better
taste this caress, and I don't have to tell you that I began to get rather
wet. The metro would be on time to the next station, so not too many
people would get off. For me, in this mood, there was no further thought
of changing at Saint Lazare, if the hand continued its work.

I was hoping the hand would dare to go under my skirt. I was pressing
myself more and more backwards, in order to better make understood my
accord. The hand moved more quickly and firmly on my behind.

The metro entered the next station. When it stopped, the hand grasped
my buttocks, and rested on my behind, without caressing me.

Happily, at this hour, when 10 people get off, 10 more get on. The
shuffle literally plastered the woman in front of me against me.

"Excuse me," she said.

"That's OK," I said. "There is nothing you can do."

I tried to tell her with my eyes that I did not find this disagreeable.
Her pelvis seemed overly pushed against mine, with respect the rest of her
body. I did not object to that. That day, the metro seemed to bring me
everything at the same time.

As soon as the metro started up again, the hand went directly under my
skirt; I imagined the man's joy in finding I had nothing on underneath; the
hand didn't have to go down very far in order to pass under my skirt, of
course.

Between my thighs, the man lost no time, burying his finger in my
vagina, which was all wet; he moved it quickly, right away. I closed my
eyes again, and opening them for a few seconds, I saw the face of the woman
in front of me. She was observing me curiously, becoming aware that
something was happening.

This finger in me and the excitement it gave me made me lose all
prudence; I moved my pelvis forward and backward, almost instinctively,
imperceptibly, but enough that the woman felt it. She pressed more
strongly against me, and began a light, oscillating movement. A wonderful
pleasure was born--enhanced by this special situation--I managed to slip my
free hand up against the lower pelvis of the woman and, outside of her
skirt, I felt for her clitoris to rub it; her eyes were smiling at me.

Fabulous. A finger in my sex from behind, and my finger caressing a
woman in front of me, right in the middle of a crowd, who might discover
everything, and cry out in scandal!

I was going to climax, I knew this, surrounded by dozens of blind
people. If they could only have guessed...
At the next stop, the three of us continued as if nothing were
happening.

I imagined the man and the woman were as excited as I was, and had also
abandoned all prudence. But how could we fear being noticed in this crowd,
if we kept a certain minimum of apparent calmness and impassiveness?

The woman's dress was a maxi with buttons in front; I easily unbuttoned
the one above her sex--because I wanted to touch her skin--and passed my
hand through the opening and placed it on her panties.

They didn't cling. I moved my finger between the cloth and her skin,
and my finger reached her sex; a lot of hair, but I quickly found her
clitoris and her very wet vagina. I wet my finger there and started to
caress her seriously. Now, she closed her eyes.

I looked nonchalently around me, and saw people who seemed to be
ignorant of everything that was happening, each with eyes fixed in front,
lost in thought, no doubt.

Solitude in the crowd. Liberty to do everything without being seen;
more easily perhaps than in open countryside where one never knows if, some
distance away, behind a tree or a window, a man or an old woman is busy
watching. (I am not against exhibitionism, but I like to choose my
voyeurs.)

Three stations already. I decide to go to the last stop.

In me, this finger is moving, always; pleasure builds little by little
within me; a new pleasure, unknown till this moment, coming as much from
the finger of the man and the sex of the woman as from the place where we
are.

The finger excites me terribly fast. My climax comes in three seconds,
brusquely. I hold back a scream with great difficulty and bite my lips
hard. I have rarely come so quickly. Normally, this pleasure grows in me
gradually, gently, arriving at the paroxysm more slowly; but here,
everything came in three or four seconds. Incredible!

I began to caress the woman in front of me furiously, and I sensed her
about to come too, under my finger. A sexy one, for sure. But no more
than me! Her eyes flutter, then totally close; I begin to take back my
hand when she reopens her eyes, extremely gently, and stares at me:

"Again."

Incredible. This word she has just pronounced galvanizes me, and I
begin to caress her more beautifully. I regret she cannot return this. I
took the risk of making us noticed, because I never knew whose hand was in
me, but I hoped it would continue to caress me.

But the man took back his hand when he felt, by the pressure of my
buttocks, that I had climaxed. It was finished, I sensed.

Once more the metro stopped, at Malesherbes, nearly the last stop. The
car would stay full. So much the better.

Why did the man stop caressing me? Was he satisfied? Did he only want
to make me climax? I knew that sometimes men could come this way too, by
simple intellectual excitation, and that after this, men lost, for a
certain time, all their erotic ideas...

But I was wrong to make this of it. The man hadn't climaxed. Not yet.
Then he did something that was difficult for me to believe, at first. I
sensed between my thighs, no longer the man's hand, but his penis. I was
sure that it was that, but for two seconds, I told myself that this was
impossible. He would not possibly dare to do this! He could not have done
this in such a crowd! Or else, he was completely crazy. But what a
marvelous fool!

I continued to caress the woman, having decided to make her come at
least as strongly as before.

I knew now it could only be the man directly behind me who could take
his penis out of his pants and lift up my skirt and put it between my
thighs. I tried to spread myself more to make the task easier.

The man clung strongly to the lower part of my skirt, and he pressed
himself as straight as possible against me. He only let me move very
lightly forward and backward, which gave me a chance to caress his penis,
rubbing between my legs.

In front of me, the woman swooned, her eyes happily closed. Except for
that, our neighbors would certainly have noticed her condition.

The metro entered Wagram station. Few people on the platform. Few
people would get off here. Three people got off, two got on. Perfect, we
were still deliciously crowded. The metro left.

Immediately, the man put his penis in my vagina. Marvelous! It was of
normal length, but with an rather imposing diameter, it seemed to me, from
what I could feel inside me. It seemed impossible to me, now, that the men
on either side of me sensed nothing. I glanced to the right and the left
behind me, and I saw the eyes of one man fixed on my buttocks. They were
seeing everything. And they said nothing. Metro, Liberty is thy name!

Secure in all these complicities, the man moved in me, scarcely
discretely; in front of me I caressed the woman, who in turn, passed a hand
under my skirt and caressed my clitoris, while introducing her finger in my
vagina, with the man's penis. No one could come more strongly than I did.
I came continuously between the Wagram and Pereire stations. I came like a
crazy person. At this hour, the metro moves in slow pauses, because ahead,
the track is not totally free. It sometimes even stops between stations.
I came for about 3 minutes, continuously, and fantastically. I no longer
knew where I was, and I didn't know how--a sort of instinctive desire kept
me from screaming--but in part because of this, I moved my hips as much as
possible.

Behind, the man makes love to me savagely. At one moment, a finger in
my anus. Is it his or one of the other men? I do not know. And that
isn't important. I want all of the people in the car to touch me, to fuck
me, to kiss me, to lick me, to crush me, to caress me, to rape me.

And I caress the woman: still masturbating her clitoris, I bury two
fingers in her sex and she comes intensely, too. She bites her lips, and
under my skirt, her frenetic finger translates these sensations.

The finger in my anus enters me deeply and marvelously, but this big
penis in me gives me an inexpressible pleasure.

A little before the Pereire station, while the metro was slowing down,
the man held me plastered against him, strongly, and pulled violently on my
skirt. I couldn't budge, not even a half-inch, and he came in me in long
hot spurting jets, leading me to inacessible summits. I had believed in
this before that-- in the great climax.

I was exhausted, and surely would have fallen over if the crowd around
me had not held me up. The woman under my fingers came again, wetting
herself insensibly. My fingers, my hand were entirely engulfed in her
liquid of love, which flowed down the length of my arm. I withdrew my hand
and dried it a bit against her skirt. Her eyes said "Merci," with
excessive sincerity, and I wanted well to believe this. (I believe I
caress in a more than excellent manner, and I take pains to caress other
people particularly well.)

The finger withdrew from my behind and the penis left my sex, my warm
sex, almost as soon as the man came.

It is over, and I have just known an unforgettable sensation.

"You get off here?" a voice behind me asked.

"No."

I spread my legs out. In front of me, the woman gave me a small glance
of complicity and turned around to get off, while the man who was behind me
passed in front of me, giving me the very slightest attention.

Incredible! (I repeat this adjective often, but remember the circum-
stances!) Truly incredible! He could have looked at me. Looked for my
face. To see who he fucked. No. He went by quickly. Incredible.

"Are you getting off here?" he asked another person ahead of him.

I hadn't even seen his face. I only saw the back of his neck. The
long hair on his neck. He had blue jeans and a brown leather shirt, under
which I saw the collar of a colored shirt. He wasn't very tall, about my
size, no more. That had made it easy for him to fuck me standing up, from
behind, without gathering too much attention around us. I had nothing more
of him, than his hands and his penis and the sound of his voice when he
asked "Are you getting off here?"

No, I'm not getting off here, and what good would it do to follow him?
His attitude invited nothing, and what would we say to each other?

The train stopped. The door opened: Pereire. Five or six people got
off in less than a minute, among them the woman that I caressed and the man
that fucked me.

And incredible! I tell you that is the only word that fits. I see the
two of them join hands and walk off the platform talking and smiling. The
man kissing the woman on the neck.

The metro leaves. I see the face of the man. Blond, gentle features.
I find him beautiful. He is no more than 23 years old, I guess.

She and he, two little gentle lovers, one would say. The people who
have met them, the people whom they are meeting and the people whom they
will meet, would take them for two little young adorable people who simply
love each other. And in fact, that seems to be the case. She and he,
conniving together, made love with me in the middle of the metro. The two
of them seem like little angels.

What is behind the face of each one? And the people hiding behind the
wise faces of this man and this woman, are they exceptional? Isn't it the
same thing for the rest of the world? And for the next man who passes?
What of the dream of the next woman to cross your path, a little farther
on? What will you think of and what have you done, you who seem shameful?
What do all couples hope for? What do their faces hide?

Open yourselves, faces. Speak to me. Tell the truth, impassive eyes.
With whom do you like to make love, all of you? And how? And where?

We have only illusions about people, and if we do not read, we guess
past the faces.

I think again of the two men who are still behind me and who
"witnessed" this. I dare not turn around. But I do not wish to
dissimulate. I want to be youth who dares, who has no shame of her body,
who considers that making love is marvelous at any moment, who wants to
live all lives in one only, and who wants to do all that she wants without
blocking and repressing in her, later having thoughts which she would not
dare explain.

I turn around and look at the two men to the right and left. They were
each about 40, suit and tie over a white shirt. They could be brothers. I
see other men, suit and tie and white shirt, the uniform of city life.

The two men avoid my look. One reads a paperback book. The other
pretends to be interested in the headlines of a paper being read by a woman
six feet away. Look at me. Have the courage to look at me. I know that
you saw. This evening, if they are married, they will make love to their
wives and think of me, I am sure. But here, they pretend they saw nothing.
Poor men. When I get off the train, they will make out my silhouette on
the platform, undressing me through the windows of the train.

So, get off. There is nothing to do with them. None have the courage
to do what the man just did, even if they often imagine that. And if they
reprove, then they should have protested. Capable of nothing, I tell you.

What a marvel, this little metro trip. I feel a little sperm sliding
gently between my legs. Incomparable memories of the extraordinary climax
that I had. I go near the door. The metro stops. I am going to get off.
Between my thighs, wet with sperm and my own juices, I still feel the man's
penis and the woman's hand. I put the hand that caressed this woman to my
lips, and the wild odor of her sex assures me that I was not dreaming. A
certain aphrodisiac.

Now I am on the platform. This is not a transfer station, Porte
Champerret, it only remains for me to leave again by the opposite platform.
This I do in an other worldly state, lost in the memory of what just
happened, my body annihilated by happy fatigue. Going the other way, the
metro is almost empty. Going back, I think over my voyage of eroticism and
climax. I go over these unforgettable moments in my mind.
---------------------------------------------------------------------

It is altogether too soon that she rocks her hips back, and I feel myself
sliding out of her. Oddly my own hips pull back almost until I am out of her
before I thrust back in, crashing my hips into hers. Once again the sensations
are overwhelming. All my senses are being overloaded. I let out my tenth
growl of the evening, this one a growl of pleasure.
I keep pulling out and thrusting, the movements of my body keeping rhythm
with those of her body. Then I notice that I'm not alone in my moans of
pleasure. Regina is writhing beneath me, grinding her teeth. I run my fingers
down her sides as I speed my hips up a little bit. I'm not exactly sure which
does it, but she starts shaking and lets out a small scream. I feel more
sure around my length, and her legs coil around mine, pulling me into her. At
the same time she holds me tight with her arms, and claws into my back.
I am unable to bear this for more than a few seconds. I start thrusting
uncontrolably, pressing into her even more insistently. Pressure suddenly
builds up inside me, and I feel my balls tighten up. I try to hold still to
keep from getting out of control, but her hips and legs keep me moving.
I let go, and start pumping up into her. My head is literally buzzing as
my body thrashes of its own accord. After what seems to be an eternity, I
regain some control. Drenched in sweat and the juices of our own bodies,
we floated into the bathroom and lay upon the floor...

I awoke, head aching, on the bathroom floor. By now, the heat of the
shower had left through the open window. I was drenched from the pool of
water and cum that had collected around me. I vowed to immediately run
out to my VW Bug, run to the hardware store, and install a shower door
to replace that stupid curtain. I only hoped I could lift the damn thing
with my skinny, 140 cm frame. Well, I could always ask my wife to lend
a hand when she got home from work... she's quite a bit bigger than I
am...