With each stop more people stuffed themselves into the car. Before long I began to feel like livestock being transported to their doom. Despite the stuffiness, I keep thinking back to the meeting.
Why did I let that smug little prick throw me off with such a stupid question? Once again I was too damn nice and tried to answer someone's totally irrelevant question as opposed to either putting them in their place, which I really wanted to do, or doing the best thing which would have been to just not really answer the question and move the presentation along.
Why did I take this transfer? What in the hell is a small town guy doing in this super sized city full of super sized egos and super sized jackasses? All any of them want to do is make themselves look good. The thought of being a team player simply does not compute with these people. I've got to get out of here.
Speaking of getting out of here, I think it'll take a can opener or a crowbar. It's not possible for another body to be stuffed in this car. Yet another reason to leave this place. God I really miss driving. I mentally talk to myself too much.
And this was my routine. I would get stuffed onto the metro going to work, get a knife or three in my back at work, and stuff myself back into a metro car for a ride home. Mentally bitching about my job was about the only way I could stand the rides to and from work, providing me a mental oasis even though it was full of bitching. I'm friendly enough, but there are only so many people I can stand pushing, bumping, swaying, and rubbing up against me.
As I tried to continue my mental bitch session, something kept stopping me from fully submerging myself in my thoughts. That smell, it's pleasant, floral. Looking around for the source I noticed for the first time a lady standing in front of me. Well, not really in front of me. Due to the livestock like environment, she was pressed up against me.
She was a little shorter than me and petite with below the shoulder dark, curly hair. From what little skin I could see on her shoulders I guessed she was Hispanic or something along those lines. Regardless, it was nice to have a pleasant smell filling my nostrils that must have been coming from her hair or maybe it was her perfume. Who knows, who cares.
Before long I found myself mesmerized by her smell and my mind started drifting off to thoughts of how nice her hair looked and smelled. I imagined my hands gathering it into a ponytail, pulling her back and forcing her to arch her back as I pounded her sweet ass from behind. As I continued my little fantasy, I sudden came back to reality when I started to feel my cock stiffening. Oh shit! I can't let this happen. This woman is going to scream, slap me, pepper spray me or stab me in my crotch!
It was too late though. My cock had already stiffened to the point where there was no hiding it or making it go down quickly. The swaying, bumping, and jolting of the car wasn't helping one damn bit either. With each movement of the car my cock was rubbed and pressed into her ass. Despite my desperate attempts to go limp I remained semi-hard.
That's when I felt it. There's no way this happening. She's no longer just moving with the motions of car. I can feel the pressure of her pushing her ass into my crotch. My heart started beating even faster and my breathing became noticeably heavier as my cock immediately went to a full blown hard-on.
Her ass cheeks formed a perfect mold around my raging hard-on. She stopped swaying and began a more rhythmic up and down motion. It wasn't noticeable to anyone around us, but that few inches of vertical motion along with her pressure against me was more than enough friction to stroke me through my pants. I could see her shoulders moving as her breathing picked up.
