Going Home

“Nine car SFO/Millbrae train arriving in six minutes. I shivered a little. The elevated outdoor platform at the Fruitvale station was chilly, and it was late.

“Cold honey? Let me warm you up. Cally stepped up close to me and pressed herself against the length of my body. I had been lightly leaning against a post, and found myself suddenly pinned against it.

“A little. I never wear enough layers.

“Well, we have six minutes. I bet I can get you pretty hot by the time the train comes. She grinned and kissed me hard.

I didn’t want her to kiss me. I didn’t want her to win me back. We had broken up this weekend and had only kept this dinner date because we weren’t quite ready to explain to all of our friends that we were splitting up. But she had cheated on me. And even though it was last year, and the only reason I knew about it was that she had drunkenly, tearfully, confessed it late Saturday night, I didn’t want her lips on me. Not lips that had lied to me for ten months. Not lips that had fucked some random girl while I was out of town.

But she kissed me anyway. And because she’s electric, it did warm me up. All it took was her red lips on mine, and I had forgotten the chill. She had always been able to do that to me. One kiss from her and I forgot the world.

Except this time, I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t forget that we were about to go home to separate bedrooms. And that she was looking for a new place. And that I still had to break the news to pretty much everyone I knew. And that those lips had been on someone else. That I wasn’t the only one she was electrifying.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking. And I know that we’re over. And I know that you might not be able to believe this, but I love you. And I always have. And I just want to feel close to you and do one nice thing for you. Let me warm you up. Five minutes till the train. Let me see what I can do for you in five minutes. I promise I’m not being tricky. I just want to do this. Here. Because¦

Because once we got home, she’d go to bed in the guestroom. This was the in between. And I was lonely. I didn’t want to think about what this breakup meant or what I’d do when she was really gone, moved out, and I didn’t see her everyday. So I nodded, just a little. And she gave me another electric kiss.

I leaned back into the post and she put her hands on my face, kissing me deeply. Her tongue touched mine, cautiously, to make sure that I was really okay with her doing this. I couldn’t say for sure that I was. But fuck it. Just five minutes.

I could already feel myself getting wet. It happened the moment I felt her tongue. I thought about her mouth on me, how brilliant she was at getting me off. I’d never been with anyone else who could do it so consistently and so spectacularly. With Cally I had those earth-shaking orgasms that made the ground fall out from under me.

Her hand reached down to my belt, undoing it as she continued to kiss me. I loved the feeling of her hands undoing my clothes. She never hesitated, always knew exactly what she wanted and went for it.  She deftly undid my pants and slipped her hand in, cupping me, making me groan in spite of myself. She rubbed me slowly, knowing exactly how to get me going fast. She knew that she probably didn’t even need the full four minutes until the train arrived. But Cally was going to take every second she could get of this.

I raised my hand, grasped the back of her head, tugged slightly at her hair. What I wanted to do was shove her down to her knees and pull her face into me. But my pride was stopping me. I didn’t want her to know how much I wanted her. Although I knew she could feel how wet I was and hear my breath quickening, I just couldn’t make myself need her. Not now.

But she knew. She had probably known from the moment she pinned me against the post that what I would want most was for her to suck me off. And my hand in her hair was the only encouragement she needed.

She dropped to her knees and looked up at me briefly, big eyes shining, before she pressed those red lips against me. I knew her lipstick would be all over my briefs, a bittersweet reminder, but I didn’t give a shit. She kissed me through the thin fabric and I felt my legs go weak. I knew I could come in moments if she would let me. I glanced around and was glad to see that no one else had arrived on either side of the platform.

I’m no boy. And I don’t want to be. I’m fine having tits, fine with my cunt, and more than fine getting fucked. But I also love fucking with gender, wearing guys’ clothes, keeping my hair short, playing around with having a cock, strapping on, and seeing a pretty girl on her knees. And Cally knew the perfect combination of appreciating my massive (if invisible) hard-on and still touching me so that I knew she loved the body I had. She didn’t wish I had an actual dick. She just loved playing as much as I did.

So she bobbed against me and I brought both my hands down and cupped her head in them. I started to thrust gently against her and felt her moan more than I heard it. I imagined how wet she was getting under her skirt, wondered if she was wearing underwear.  I knew my thighs were slick with my wetness, and it just kept coming as she worked on me.

Her tongue slipped through the opening in my briefs and I shuddered as she started to massage my clit. I looked past her face to her body crouched before me. Her tiny waist and her perfect ass jutting out as she maneuvered herself into the best position, getting her angle just right to suck on me.

Her hands grabbed my ass and pulled me even closer to her, digging her nails into me.  She was sucking me so hard by now, tongue swirling and lips tight against me. I leaned my head back against the post and jutted my hips forward, finally just giving over to her, letting her have me. Giving her my whole self, no longer interested in being coy or protecting my confused and battered heart, I just wanted her mouth. I just wanted to come.

“Nine car SFO/Millbrae train arriving in one minute. Which was fine, because my orgasm was arriving sooner than that. I could feel it rising up in me, and she pressed her chest against me, circling her arms around me, holding me tight as I moaned louder and louder. In the distance I saw the light of the train, heard its horn wailing into the night. I clutched her to me with one hand and grasped her shoulder with the other, doubling over as I came hard, gushing into her mouth. Her tongue kept going, bringing me through another wave of crazy sexy shudders.

She knew just when to stop, knew when it would be too much for me, when it would bring me to tears. Which was alright sometimes, when we were in bed and she could see me all the way through, keeping her mouth against me until every bit of my energy had been absorbed by her, and she could crawl up to me and press me into her chest, holding me until that deep stillness settled into me. But not tonight. Tonight she pulled back after that second wave and gave me one quick kiss on my thigh. I looked down at her and saw her wiping her eyes, but by the time she stood up she looked fine, aside from the loss of lipstick.

“Nine car SFO/Millbrae train now arriving. She zipped my pants, buttoned them, and fastened my belt, as adept at putting me together as she was at taking me apart. As the train came to a stop she straightened out her skirt and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. As we boarded the train, I grabbed her hand. I didn’t know what would happen tomorrow or the next day but for now, I just wanted to go…home.

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