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Last summer, every day for a week straight I ended up on the same subway car as this drop dead gorgeous girl. I could tell she was a model because she was so tall and thin and she looked like she’d stepped right off the cover of a fashion magazine. Friday of that week she finally met my gaze—she had one green eye and one grey—and I stared back at her, shamelessly undressing her with my eyes. As she stepped off the train a few minutes later, she handed me a little note with her name and number scribbled on it.
I texted her as soon as I was above ground and she replied with a naked photo, but not just any sexy shot—this was a professional, classy nude. Every fifteen minutes or so the rest of that day, my phone buzzed with another alert that led to another mind-blowing erotic shot. Around 3:15pm I couldn’t take it any more, so I whacked off in the bathroom at work, thinking about banging the hell out of my subway seductress. Afterwards, I confessed what I’d done and begged her to join me for dinner that night. She accepted.
Halfway through our appetizers, she slid a note across the table. It said: ‘bathroom in 30.’ I popped a Viagra on the sly and at the designated time, she stood and I followed. One after the other, we slipped right past the bathroom attendant into the same stall, laughing like a couple of crazed horny college kids. Leaning back against the wall, She lifted her little skirt up and bit her lip like the little vixen she was. As I pulled my pants down she said ‘no kissing on the lips,’ so I went straight for her neck and started feeling up those perky A-cup breasts. We fucked standing up for at least 30 minutes. And then we fucked again back at her place, in the sex swing she had in the bedroom. I haven’t seen her again since, but I relive that night every time I jerk it.”