The ancient, dusty cobweb expanded as the warm air tugged at its weakened skeletal fabric. A rumbling swelled within the confines of the underground station; a roaring sound interspersed with the 'click clack' of steel wheels hammering onto the next section of track. Like a bullet from a gun the train burst from the dark tunnel. The brakes squealed piercing the air.
The early morning travelers braced themselves for the onslaught to find a vacant seat.
Jason Faraday waited patiently. At twenty nine he had matured into a man of rugged appearance whom some would have called 'an Arnie look alike.'
Although, unlike Arnie's character, he was wondering if today he'd pluck up the courage to speak to his 'dream girl.' He'd seen her every Wednesday morning, for the past two months, traveling into central London. Standing impassively on the edge of the swelling crowd, his muscled physique unconsciously restrained the surrounding travelers from boarding first.
She was there, wearing a lightweight, pale blue, summer dress with a high collar. The blue matched her eyes. Her coiffed fair hair allowed the air to cool her pale neck. He guessed she was in her mid twenties and a slender five foot eight inches.
The doors opened, disgorging a gruff looking, pin stripe suited, middle aged executive. Jason stepped inside and sat down opposite her. She did not appear to look up at him but continued reading her magazine.
The train doors 'shushed' and closed. The train lurched forward and stopped. There was a moment's pause.
Was that a glance in his direction?
The train rolled forward then jerked into motion. The young man standing slightly to his left was caught unawares and quickly tried to grasp the handrail above him. He collided with the woman beside him. His foot ground onto Jason's own.
"Sorry, sorry," he blurted effusively, trying to grab the rail and re-orientate his body and briefcase.
Over the top of her magazine she smiled at Jason. His heart leaped. He smiled and leaned forward.
"Traveling at this time of the day has its drawbacks," he said to her. "Unfortunately, I've got to be in the office for an important meeting. Do you need to be somewhere early for financial reasons as well?"
Before she could reply the carriage lights went out. The darkness collapsed in on their thoughts as there followed a tremendous bang and grinding metal mixed with shattering glass.
Silence.
Jason awoke to a black stillness. He had a thundering headache. He was aware that his body was bruised and that he probably had a broken left leg. The softness beneath him must have prevented further injury. He tried to move but found he could not.
It was then that the 'softness' beneath him moved and groaned.
The warmth from the person's moaning heated his groin and their head movement made his cock twitch.
'Thank goodness, that's okay,' he thought.
It occurred to him that the warmth permeating through the delicate, soft fabric beneath his own face must be that from another human being.
'Female? Definitely,' he mused. A 'soap like' scent brushed the edges of his regaining senses, although the smell of highly charged electricity and burnt rubber became more pungent.
He tried exerting pressure on his back to lift his body clear from this 'sexual' position. He was, after all, a gentleman and knew that once the woman was conscious any number of embarrassing misconceptions on her part might lead to charges of gross indecency against him.
He could not move more than a few inches. Whatever happened now was out of his hands. He grinned.
More moans then an awakening.
"Aghhh..." She murmured. There was cramped movement. Her brain clicked into gear.
"Are you hurt?" Jason asked.
"I don't think so. I ache in places but everything seems to be functioning okay. My arms and legs are pinned. There's also a heavy weight the length of my body. What happened? Are you alright?"
"Apart from a few bruises I'm fine," he acknowledged, realizing from her tone that he was on top of a young woman.
"Can you move from under me? It seems I'm pinned from above and I can't get off you."
She squirmed beneath him as he pushed upward. Her face brushed his flaccid penis. It twitched again.
'Oh, God,' he thought. 'Please do that again.'
"Umm... Jason?"
"Yes."
"Is that your face in my crotch?"
He hesitated before replying, "Yes, it is."
"And there's no way you can move your face away from my crotch?"
"I'm afraid not. It also means that my groin is directly over your mouth and the slightest movement... You know my name? Who are you?"
"My name's Sarah and I sat opposite you before... well, before the accident. I recognized your voice and realized it must be you."
His heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening.
The girl of his dreams was beneath him. Was this his lucky day?
"But it still doesn't answer how you know my name?" He probed.
"I have to admit that I saw the name tag on your briefcase some weeks ago. I wanted to speak to you sooner but... well, I'm rather shy and really old fashioned about talking to complete strangers." She breathed. "Jason, your bulge is growing. I know you fancied me from the moment I saw you. It was in your eyes. I'm glad you spoke to me today. I thought it would never happen, though I hoped that it would."
"I do fancy you, Sarah. I have since I first saw you but I never dreamed of being in this position without some introduction first or at least by sharing a kiss."
Silence.
"You can," she breathed, huskily.
