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Her cunt tightened around my dick, and she orgasmed, soaking my cock in her cum. I held my dick in place and continued to fist fuck her ass, pushing my hand deeper into her. Her pussy locked onto my dick, as if she never wanted to let it go, and her whole body shook in her orgasm. Even her bleeding sphincter tightened around my fist to lock it in place.I continued to shout obscene names at her, and it only made her orgasm last longer. With my free hand, continued to slap her ass and pinch her clit.When her orgasm finally subsided, I ripped my hand out of her ass. It had bloodstains and shit stains on it. I rolled her over onto her back, lifted her legs up, and fucked her pussy. I squeezed her tits and pinched and slapped her nipples with my dirty hand, staining her tits red and brown. Blood was getting everywhere, and it started to smell bad. Her chest jumped in little jolts as she continued to sob through the shirt over her head, shaking her head and gasping little pleas. I see the reflection of her pretty blue eyes as she applies mascara. I stare. I know I shouldn’t, but I can't help it: her eyes are beautiful pools of blue and laughter lines only add to their allure. I lose myself in them, briefly forgetting where I am.This happens for the next week or so. She trots up as the train arrives, I let her get on in front of me, a courteous gesture, and we sit in familiar seats. I watch her apply her day face and imagine who she might be, where she lives, and with whom. I invent scenarios where we meet, become friendly, and eventually fuck. I sit there every morning, my imagination a fevered mess and a partial erection concealed beneath my folded overcoat. I imagine the first time we talk, our first kiss and touch. Each day, I conjure up a different theme but it always has the same result — I doze to the train’s rhythm thinking about fucking her, hard and deep.One Friday, I'm particularly tired and hungover after a client dinner the previous night. Bleary.
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