Obsessed

A man grows obsessed with a woman he sees daily on his ride home.

I saw her standing on the platform even before the commuter train slowed to a stop. As beautiful as ever in a summery silk blouse and a black skirt, she had her dark red hair twisted into a loose pile behind her head. Everyday since first noticing her in May I would watch for her on my ride home. Sometimes she boarded a completely different car and that would be all until I might spy a glimpse of her again on the platform after she disembarked at her stop. My own stop was near the end of the line, one beyond hers.

Often she stood or sat in the same car as me. I would quietly observe her whenever I could without being caught. I felt most comfortable when from a few seats behind her I could watch her watching others. Men often attempted to engage her in conversation and she would usually respond, confidently and pleasantly chatting with them until the conversation sagged or one of them disembarked. Increasingly, I would find myself jealous of these men and oddly territorial towards her even though we had never uttered a word to each other. I found it torturous if her conversations lasted and she appeared to be enjoying another man's company. It was always with some relief when they asked for her name or number, as they so often did, that she would politely smile and ignoring their request respond with, "It was a great pleasure speaking with you", before turning to exit the train.

Once, early on, she suddenly turned toward me and caught my gaze before I could divert away. I held it for a second without registration and then nonchalantly resumed peering at the newspaper I pretended to read. I never let her catch my eye again. I was biding my time, counting on chance to someday place her next to me. That I might speak to her without her knowledge of my growing obsession was what I had hoped.

It was unusually crowded on the train that day. The only relative peace I found was in the crowded alcove between the two forward most train cars. Once again my spirits sagged since where I had seen her standing would place her three coaches back. My thoughts strayed to other things as I looked absentmindedly out of the opposite window over the heads of the other commuters in the alcove. The door from the coach, always active on a crowded day, slid opened once again and suddenly she was in the alcove. My heart leapt. She first looked opposite from me and instinctively I moved back against the coach wall to create an inviting alley to the side window. Focusing on that alleyway she never looked directly at me and moved quickly to the window. I folded in behind her and stood in silence.

The smell of her hair was close and her perfume intoxicating. With her attention focused beyond the window I found no opening to conversation. I feared to speak to her only to come away with her standard courteous kiss off. My pulse began to race, but I remained paralyzed until the swaying motion of the train sent my body against hers. I pulled back but there was no reaction from her. Another commuter entered the alcove. I stepped in closer and let the next motion carry me against her again and remained there with my body lightly brushing hers as the train rocked and swayed. God, she was beautiful I thought and feared she would hear my pounding heart.

Suddenly I felt the urge to let her know I was there. Almost as a reaction I let the back of my hand lightly brush across her ass. It was a bold move that got her attention. When she turned her head and looked at me to determine the source and intent of the touch, I held her gaze as confidently as I could allowing only the slightest smile. In that instant I knew she was mine.

The resources of my groin immediately began to marshal. Bending slightly I reached down to place the palm of my hand fully open on the outside of her lower thigh. I held it there for the briefest of moments. Encountering no reaction I began to slide my hand up her leg almost to her hip before smoothing her skirt by gliding it back down the same path. Her young firm leg felt cool to me and it was all I could do to control myself enough to allow my hand another same steady journey up and down that thigh.

I wrapped my other hand around to her stomach and pulled her firmly against me. My cock was fully erect and pressing into her backside. The hardness of it, unmistakable through my summer weight slacks and her light skirt had an effect on her. She granted consent by not pulling away from me. Actually more than consent, there was an enthusiasm in her unyielding pressure against me.

With my back toward the other commuters I was emboldened in my confidence that I was undetected. I slowly moved the hand of my encircling arm up to her breast, tracing her contours before stroking the deliciously soft flesh overflowing her bra through her blouse with my fingertips.

Next Page »