He wanted her from the first moment that he saw her. The first time it happened was a Wednesday morning. He had stopped at the coffee shop on the corner of Fifth and Main to grab his morning caffeine fix when he spotted her sitting at one of the tables in the back of the shop. There was nothing notable about her that would justify how or why she had caught his attention. She was just a moderately attractive, slightly built woman in her mid-twenties sitting alone at a coffee shop. She was bundled up against the city cold in an oversized, and if he was being honest hideously ugly, grey sweater. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but he could tell that it was a rich dark brown color, about shoulder length, with bangs just a little too long that fell into her eyes. He usually liked women with longer hair, and preferred blondes. He loved to tangle his fingers in their light silky tresses when they were in bed. Yet still, there was something about this woman that made him literally stand up and take notice.
He paid for his coffee and left the shop, in a hurry to get to work. To his surprise, thoughts of her filled his mind. He could not stop thinking about her. Upon reflection, he decided that it was her eyes that had drawn him in and so captivated his attention. She had been too far away for him to make out their exact color, but in his imagination they were a pure innocent blue. Wide and nearly owlish, he could almost envision how they would look as he entered her for the first time, or how they would look as she took him into her mouth, gazing up at him through spidery black lashes.
He looked for her the next morning at the coffee shop, and the next, but he never saw her there again. As the days turned to weeks he stopped looking for her. If he couldn't completely forget her, well, at least he managed to think of her only on occasion. In the shower, with his cock in hand as he relieved the pressure of his erotic dreams. Or in bed with his girlfriend, when images of those innocent eyes and fringe of dark brown bangs could not be banished from his mind. Jenny, his girlfriend, didn't care. She reaped the benefits of those times when he would find renewed vigor in bed pumping harder and faster. Of course, he never told her about how his thoughts would drift to another woman, so maybe she would care after all.
The second time he saw her he was on the subway. It was not his normal mode of transportation, but he had been running late and was unsuccessful in catching a cab. Rain had been plaguing the city for two days straight, making it nearly impossible to find an unoccupied taxi. He only had two stops to go when he spotted her. She was wearing another equally ugly sweater, this one a dark hunter green with blue triangles across the front. She was standing halfway up the train car from him clutching a computer bag and oversized purse close to her body to ward off any attempts at mugging.
At the next stop the train emptied and before it could fill up again with a fresh load of people, he made his move. Trying not to look too obviously focused on her, he maneuvered so that he stood just a foot or so behind her. He retrieved the newspaper that he had been reading earlier in the morning, the Wall Street Journal, and pretended to be engrossed. As people crowded into the train, he allowed himself to be pushed and prodded in her direction until he was directly behind her. Taking advantage of the shifting crowd, he moved slightly and bumped up against her, his front to her back. He caught her scent as he moved into her, a sweet floral fragrance that suited her perfectly. She shot him a look, half annoyed, half uncomfortable and clutched her bags closer to her body. The top of her head came up only to just below his chin, and he was so close to her that wisps of her hair that had escaped her pony tail ticked his face.
"I'm sorry."
He spoke softly so that only she and those closest to them would hear. Her owlish eyes turned in his direction again, perhaps in surprise at the conversation. Mostly people ignored each other on the subway, despite the close quarters forced upon those using the trains for their morning or evening commutes. He could see now that he had been wrong about her eye color, but couldn't bring himself to feel much disappointment. Rather than the pure ice blue of his fantasies, they were a shocking green in color. He had never seen eyes so bright green. She nodded slightly at him, gave him a little half smile, and then turned back to face away from him. He could see the tension in her body, despite the oversized sweater. He made her nervous. Flattered, he considered his next move. As the train reached the next platform, his stop, and she showed no signs of exiting the car, he made a decision. When the train moved on, he was still on it.
If possible, the train became even more crowded and she was forced backwards until her entire back was plastered to his front. He had been half hard since he had touched her the first time, and didn't want to scare her off. He tried to lever his crotch away from her, but soon even that much became impossible. Even with his fall coat and her sweater separating them, he knew she had to feel his arousal hard and hot against her back. He was not a small man. His thoughts were confirmed when she gasped, and quickly darted another glance up at his face. He gave her what he hoped was a sheepish look and a slight shrug as if to say "what can you do?" She whipped her head back around, but he couldn't detect any attempt to move further away from him. Encouraged, he leaned down to speak directly into her ear.
"Hi, I'm really sorry about this."
She turned her head again so that she was looking up at him from over her shoulder. She still said nothing.
"I'm David."
Her response was so quiet he had to struggle to hear it.
"Hi, I'm Holly."
They rode on in silence for two more stops until the train stopped and the lights flickered. The operator announced that there had been an accident on the tracks up ahead, and that they would be stopping for a while. The lights came back on, but were dimmed as the engine idled. All around people were groaning and complaining. David didn't say a word. He shifted so that his hand was resting lightly on Holly's hip. When she didn't react he moved so that both hands rested on her hips, holding her lightly. Imperceptibly he felt her shift her weight so that she was leaning back against him.
Tempers were high and when, fifteen minutes later, a fight broke out between two men just in front of Holly, it was not much of a surprise. He pulled her back against him and rotated moving her out of harm's way. Her bags fell to the floor, forgotten in the commotion. One of the men was shoved back into where Holly had been standing, but it was David's shoulder that stopped his fall rather than her.
Their new position had Holly leaning with her back against the wall of the train. David had his arms wrapped around her, his hands resting at the small of her back. He lowered his head to ask her if she was alright and she nodded in response. His thumbs played with the hem of her sweater, and he slowly worked his hands under her shirt so that he was touching her bare skin. He felt rather than heard her gasp. He looked into her eyes, and asked again if she was ok. Understanding the difference in this question, knowing that he was asking if she was ok with what he was doing, she nodded again.
His movements were slow, so as not to alert the other passengers to what was going on. One hand moved up to caress the underside of her breasts, the other remained against her back with his fingers teasing the top of her jeans. Occasionally his fingers would slip below the waist to flirt with the crack of her ass. Kissing her would have been too obvious, so he lowered his head to hers but kept his face an inch or two away. To the casual observer it would look like they were having a private conversation, except that their lips were not moving. He could feel her breath, coming in excited pants, against his face. He slowly ground himself against her, crotch to crotch, wishing that they were anywhere but on a crowded train. He wasn't sure how much longer he could maintain control. When she moved her hands to his abdomen and chest, feeling him through his dress shirt, he almost lost it. He stopped caring about all of the other people in the train, he just wanted her naked and under him.
His hand was on the button of her jeans when the loud sound of the train engine roaring back to life broke into his thoughts and allowed him the few moments necessary to regain control. He didn't hear the words over the speaker, but realized that the tracks must have been cleared because the train started moving again. He re-buttoned her jeans and moved his hands back to Holly's hips, still under the sweater and smiled down at her.
"I have to go" she whispered. "This is my stop."
