I'd been looking forward to my first visit to New York City for months. After hearing so much about The Big Apple from TV shows, movies, and friends, I'd crammed a busy itinerary into my short one-week stay. Broadway, the Metropolitan Museum, Rockefeller Center, shopping on 5th Avenue—there was so much to do in so little time.
But first, there was the little matter of my three-day business conference. The largest graphic design trade show of the year was running at the Javits Center in midtown Manhattan, and it was something I felt I couldn't pass up. Besides displaying all the latest technology in the ever-changing landscape of graphic design software, all the big media companies would be there. As a freelance artist, there were simply too many potential customers to ignore.
It would have been easier to take a cab to get to my venue, but today I wanted to experience an authentic New York rite of passage by taking the subway. As I walked down the front steps of my hotel toward the 103rd Street subway station one block away, I marveled at the majestic trees lining Central Park West. The city park was definitely on my to-do list, and I planned to take a long stroll later in the day to absorb the autumn color.
When I descended the stairs to the underground concourse, I was surprised how busy the station was. There was a heavy flow of commuters streaming into the station, and the subway platform was already four or five people deep waiting for the next rush hour train to arrive. I purchased a MetroCard at one of the vending machines, then scurried through the turnstiles onto the packed platform.
Suddenly, the station filled with a deafening roar as two trains raced into the terminal from opposite ends. The southbound train screeched to a halt in front of me and opened its doors, and a small group of people shuffled off the train. Then the dense crowd on the platform converged on the narrow opening, trying to squeeze into the tight cabin. I wasn't prepared for the aggressiveness of the passengers as they pushed and jostled past me toward the door. Within ten seconds, the car was filled to capacity as a wall of passengers stood by the lip of the door, blocking the opening.
Holy crap, I thought. My friends weren't kidding when they said everything moves faster in Manhattan.
I stepped back from the opening and watched the passengers squeeze their shoulders together to allow enough room for the door to close.
At least next time, I breathed a sigh of relief, I'll be at the front of the line.
Within a minute, another train roared into the station. I quickly stepped to the side of the door nearest me and waited for the exiting passengers to leave the compartment. When I stepped into the carriage, I noticed it was already half full. The surge of passengers streaming in behind me pushed me deeper into the car and off to the side. The seats were already taken, so I found a spot in the corner beside the exit door and grabbed hold of the overhead support bar to steady myself. A pretty brunette was seated in the single chair on the end wall, reading Cosmo.
"Excuse me," I said, wiggling in next to her, trying to find a spot with a few inches of personal space.
She smiled at me and nodded, then returned her attention to her magazine. Passengers continued filtering into the subway car, pushing and squeezing us closer together. By the time the doors closed, I scarcely had an inch to breathe, and I could feel bodies pressing up against me from the sides and behind. I grasped the overhead bar more firmly and spread my feet a few inches to get a solid footing. I glanced at the people resting on the seats below me and noticed that everyone was either tapping on their cell phones or reading a newspaper.
When the train picked up speed and was swallowed in the blackness of the underground tunnel, I looked in the reflected light of the window in front of me to scan the activity in my car. Everybody seemed to be staring impassively ahead or reading the advertisements above the windows. As the train rattled through the tunnel jostling back and forth, I could feel the surrounding passengers shifting their weight against me. Someone's hips were pressing into my ass, and I looked in the window to see a pretty college-aged girl wearing a backpack with the NYU logo. The feeling of having someone touching me so intimately in the tight confines of the subway car was turning me on, and I felt my pussy beginning to tingle.
I tilted my hips toward her to try to get her attention, but she seemed lost in conversation as her fingers flicked over her cellphone screen. Glancing to my side, I noticed the seated brunette had lifted her gaze from her magazine and was watching my ass rubbing against the college girl's hips directly in front of her. She looked up in my direction, then turned to our reflected image in the window and smiled at me. I blushed at the realization that she'd caught me trying to grab a cheap feel on the subway train and quickly turned my head in the other direction. But there was something about the way she looked at me that got my juices flowing even stronger.
When the train entered the next station and our car doors opened, I was sad to see the college girl leave the compartment. A new surge of passengers boarded the cabin, then the brunette stuffed her magazine in her purse and stood up to take a position on my left side. She was so close to me, I could smell her perfume. She reached onto the support handle and grasped the bar beside my hand. The feeling of her warm skin next to mine on the cool bar sent a charge through my body.
Another passenger squeezed in behind us, taking her vacant seat on the end wall, and I glanced at the brunette in the window reflection and smiled. She was a little younger than me, maybe in her early thirties, and dressed in a tight-fitting business suit that hugged her curvy body. She had big brown eyes and sexy full lips, and I blushed when she caught me checking out her body.
We were packed like sardines in the tight confines of the subway car, and I felt the brunette's hips press against the side of my ass. I wasn't sure if she was doing it intentionally or just trying to provide some more space for the last few passengers squeezing into our end of the car. Either way, it was a pleasant feeling, and I kept my feet firmly planted and my body erect, maintaining the pressure between us.
When the train left the station and accelerated into the tunnel, the shifting weight of the carriage caused our bodies to bump together, creating a different kind of friction between us. I could feel her hard pubis pushing against my cheeks, and I squeezed my glutes to provide a firmer surface for her to get more direct stimulation. To my delight, she began moving her hips rhythmically against my ass, and I felt her wetness soaking through the thin microfiber on the back of my pants.
She was tribbing me in the tight confines of the subway car, with nobody the wiser!
