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A Stranger's Thank You

By:

Dean Jean-Pierre

 

    I had seen her earlier this morning.  Her long dark legs gliding up the stairs in pairs.  The Manhattan bound #5 train came screeching into Allerton Avenue & in two seconds would be pulling out faster than a virgin boy afraid of getting his girlfriend pregnant.

    "Stand clear of the closing doors," a female's voice dripped through the speakers, but my foot stopped it from closing. A still sleepy summer sun caught her in its eye & blinked her slender body through the train doors.  That was eight lifetime hours ago & here she was again, making her way onto a packed rush hour train.

     The doors slid open bracing itself against the onslaught of frustrated passengers who were suffocating in the underground heat.  The cool air-conditioned car fought a brief, losing battle with a sweltering 42nd street station & was quickly sucked into nothingness.

          Amid the many different faces, eyes & races of people, our eyes briefly met & there wasn't any sign that she recognized me from this morning.  Her grayish overcast eyes seemingly stared right through me as she manipulated her slight figure through the maze of people. Her midriff was exposed to show off her pancake flat stomach & a long white cotton skirt hid her legs.  She leaned up against the long silvery pole with her back to me.  The small of her back was exposed & when it touched the cold metal, she arched forward & then settled back.  Her small but perfectly rounded pear shaped ass caressed the coldness of the silver pole and it seemingly melted into the deep valley of her ass.  I took this all in with barely a breath escaping.

          At every stop, eyes of horny men raped her repeatedly.  The intensity of their stares was enough to set her body on fire & burn the clothes right off her dark smooth skin.  With her hair in dreadlocks she reminded of someone I knew a long time ago.  But as with anything, memories shift & change & like a chameleon it can easily lose its original truth.

          The flood of people had managed to push her squarely in front of me.  We were so close together that her every breath tickled my nostrils.  A faint scent of Dove soap and Cool Water perfume kissed my face & my lips parted to let it into my parched mouth.  As the taste of it slid down my throat, sexual energy flowed through my body and manifested itself into a smile.  My eyes were swimming in her eyes & she smiled back a smile as warm as sand on a Caribbean beach.  

          The cast of characters on the train were all lost in their own personal world.  Some were fast asleep & about to fall off their seats, others were catching up on the latest news and reading their novels.  The only thing racing through my mind was trying to find the courage to approach this sexy young lady I had seen twice in one day.  It had to be a sign.  When you have a girl on the brain & a throbbing erection between your legs, everything is a sign.

          Halfway between 59th & 86th street everything came to a complete stop. The lights, undecided about whether or not to follow suit gave in and all the cars went dark.  Not completely dark, but dark enough to make commuters clutch their bags just a little bit tighter.  The conductor's raspy voice blared through the speakers informing everyone the delay would last only five minutes.

          Even as the lights blinked and lost consciousness my eyes stayed riveted to the back of her body.  The small of her back was shaped like the inside of a small spoon had already been committed to memory by my eyes.  My eyes fluttered shut so I could taste her in the privacy of my thoughts.  A hunger emanating from the depths of my soul to be touched by her was answered ever so sweetly. She kissed my lips, at first so gently I thought it was something conceived in my imagination.  She kissed me again and I responded to her probing inquest with tongue twisting questions of my own.

          She smelled something wonderful like she had soaked her beautiful black skin in a tub full of red, yellow & white roses.  Long after this moment has passed the scent of roses will bring a smile to my face.  Her eyes stayed closed as if to open them would take away from the moment, making it less real.

          My back was impaled against the door connecting the cars. Her body had danced around, and through her panty less cotton skirt the warmth of her ass greeted my hardened sex.  We were reading each other's bodies without any previous intimate knowledge.  The way she grasped my two wrists, resting them softly on the fullness beneath the small of her back made me aware she liked it slow.  Through her cotton skirt I massaged her ass the way I would squeeze a mango to determine its ripeness. It was ripe & ready to be tasted.  She had lifted the back of her skirt to invite me into her heaven. I lifted it all the way up leaving it in a bundle in my hands.  My hands rested on her naked flesh caressing her ass as if I had every right to be touching the most intimate areas of her person.  I palmed her two cheeks the way MJ would palm a basketball and spread them open. The hardness in my crotch needed to escape so she set it free. With one downward pull my zipper was open and out he came.

          She squeezed it to make sure it was ready to for her and nestled it between the crack in her ass.  Having had a lifetime of experience of manipulating my erection, I steered him towards the pleasure that was waiting for him.  Curly wet pubic hair impeded my entry, but not for long.  With every pulse of my erection, her throbbing vaginal lips pulsated even harder.  Unable to wait for the moment to play itself out, I penetrated her wetness.  Her muscles gripped my shaft and pulled deep inside her sweet spot.  A shudder vibrated through her body, her knees began to buckle but I gripped her by her waist and stroked her swiftly.  Moans of pleasure bottled inside her mouth was swallowed down her throat and erupted against my erection.  Not wanting the moment to end I stayed inside of her warmth until she pulled away. 

           The lights came back to life and the train lurched forward to its destination.  No one seemed aware of what had transpired while the lights were off except for an old man with eyes hidden behind shades and his head tilted skyward.  He was fast asleep. 

          "86th street…take all your personal belongings and have a great day," the conductor's voice blared through the speakers. If only he knew how great a day it had already been.

          She was a stranger to me, and even though I would look for her in every passing train car, our eyes would never meet again after this day. 

 The doors sprang open and without turning back to acknowledge what we had just experienced, she exited onto the platform.  Slowly the train gathered speed to leave the station, and as if sensing my need to let the moment live on, slowed down to a crawl.  There she was looking at me through the windows.  I read her lips: "thank you for this morning," they were saying to me.  And then she was gone.


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Updated: September 20, 2005.