he said, “close your eyes and just listen.”
“Okay.”
“Are your eyes closed?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Listen to the train. Listen to the machinery.”
“It’s sexy,” she said. Her hand reached over to his crotch.
Three Weeks Later
“Are you following me?”
Sharon jumped, and turned. It was Gerald, on the train. She couldn’t believe this. She couldn’t help it—she embraced him, and kissed him.
“Hey, hey,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She blushed. She looked around. No one was watching.
Gerald straightened his tie.
“What are you doing here?” Sharon asked.
“I was wondering the same.”
“Another interview at another college,” she told him.
“Work,” he said. “The usual.”
He was looking her over. She was wearing a long skirt this time, and a sheer-fabric blouse, black bra showing through. He leaned forward and whispered, “Wish to go into the bathroom, my dear?”
She could only nod.
He led the way to the men’s restroom. He opened the door, and—to her surprise—roughly shoved her in. Her face hit the wall. She breathed in. She turned to him. His face was carnal. He grabbed her by the hair, pulled her to him, and kissed her. “You little bitch,” he said, “you horny little bitch.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Say this: ‘I’m a horny little skank.’”
“I’m a horny little skank.”
“A slut.”
“A slut.”
“I’m.”
“I’m.”
“A.”
“A.”
“Little.”
“Little.”
“Fuck bunny.”
She laughed.
He pulled her hair harder. “What’s so funny?”
“Kiss me,” Sharon begged.
“I’ll do more than that,” he said, and kissed her. His hands were under her skirt, pulling her panties down.
“Gerald, wait,” she told him. “I’m on my period.”
“I might like that.”
“I don’t.”
“I’ll fuck your behind.”
“What?”
He squeezed her rear end. “I’ll fuck your little brown bunny,” he said. He pushed her toward the sink, and played with her ass. He bent, and kissed the flesh. There wasn’t enough room in here for this. He tried to stick a finger into her. Sharon flinched.
“You’re a virgin here,” he said.
She didn’t know what to say.
“No one has broken your ass cherry yet?”
“No,” she said, ashamed.
“Sit on the toilet,” he ordered her, and she did. He had his cock out, just as huge and veined as she remembered. “Suck it,” and he grabbed her hair; “suck it right now.”
She took him in her mouth, eyes opened; she wanted to see all of this, even though his eyes were closed. Both his hands were on her head, pushing her so that she had to keep taking his cock in deeper with each penetration of her mouth. She gagged. Salvia drooled out of her mouth and on his penis. He opened his eyes once. Looking into those eyes, she knew, right then, that she could love this man—that she would love this man. It was one of those things. He closed his eyes again and continued to roughly fuck her mouth. Her lips were burning. Gerald started to come. As she ate his discharge, something very strange happened—she began to pee. She had no control. Piss flowed out of her, into the toilet, and it made her scream—a muffled scream. She pulled back, his cock popped out of her mouth and she spat cum onto his crotch as she had an orgasm and urinated simultaneously. She pressed her face into his pubes, catching her breath. Gerald stroked her hair.
“Lick up the mess,” he said, softly.
She looked at the sticky cum on his pubic hair, his stomach. She stuck out her tongue and lapped away.
After a while, Gerald pulled up his underwear and slacks.
Sharon stood, noting that her tampon had slipped out, fallen into the toilet. She took another from her purse. She was self-conscious, but Gerald wanted to watch. She put the new one in, crouching, skirt hiked up. She was about to put her panties on and he stopped her.
“Let me keep them,” he said; “a memento.”
“You did that last time.”
“I do it all the time.”
“You must have quite a collection.”
“You think I do this a lot?”
“I’ll be naked under my skirt,” she said.
“That’s the idea.”
“Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
“Here,” he said. He took some toilet paper, wadded it, and wiped traces of semen off her chin. “We don’t want people to see this. That wouldn’t be decent.”
“Yeah,” she said, “they’ll just see my cunt.”
“It’s a wonderful view,” he noted.
Golden Heart and Soul
She had lunch with him in the dining car. She was hungry. She had a bacon sandwich and Gerald had a baked potato, smothered in cheese and sour cream. The train rocked beneath them; like sex, she thought. What she really wanted was to be back in that bathroom. Gerald could tell.
“The wonderful part,” he said, “is when you began to piss.”
She looked at her sandwich.
“This bothers you?”
“It was so strange,”
