Hello Again

No, no, please don’t stop in the tunnel, please don’t stop in the tunnel…

Damn it…

I hate when this happens.

Thank god I’m not actually claustrophobic, but… yeah. I mean, I’m sure no one on this crowded train thinks being stopped underground is fun.

Whatever. I’ll just play a game or something… distract myself from thinking about running out of oxygen and getting stuck in here forever…

And, no service.

Right, because… tunnel.

Well, at least we’re all stuck here together.

I’m definitely going to be late, though. I hope Shelby doesn’t mind sitting at the bar alone for a little while.

There must be something going on at the next stop. Probably why the train next to us is stopped, too.

I look out of the window next to me and watch the other exasperated riders on the train beside ours.

Men in suits staring at their phones. An older woman sitting with her eyes shut, completely zen about the fact that we’re not moving and haven’t been for multiple minutes now.

All the usual suspects.

Ooh, but… who are you?

Mm, okay cute subway guy. You are very successfully distracting me from thinking about this tunnel…

You’re very engrossed in your book it looks like. Like have you even realized that your train is stopped?

What are you reading…?

Octavia Butler, very nice. So, you’re hot, well-read, and you clearly know how to dress yourself, unlike most men my age in this city.

Why could I not have run into you at th—oh, oh, you totally just caught me staring.

Okay, just going to look away… look anywhere else…

Awkward. But, at least I’m on this train and you’re on that one.

Maybe… one last look won’t hurt…

You’re fully staring back at me. And… smirking.

Yeah, okay, you caught me.

And… I guess there’s no harm in smiling back.

Not going to lie, this is starting to feel a little bit like a rom-com…

Oh—

Oh—oh—noooo…

Damn. Lost him.

And never gonna see him again.

Well, it was good while it lasted. Definitely better than my last two relationships.

“Hey!”

“Excuse me… excuse me…”

“Finally. I was about to send out a search party for you.”

“Sorry, train got delayed underground, blah blah blah. I’m here now and I need a—oh!”

“Tequila soda, extra lime.”

“Oh my god, it’s like you’re in my brain, I love you so much.”

“I didn’t want you to miss happy hour, so I got two.”

“Thank you.”

“So, you heard about Rachel right? She’s finally making the big move to the east coast. I can’t believe she just dropped that on Instagram. Like, could you not have sent a heads-up text first? I had to find out from Instagram? And, look, I get it. We’re broken up, 100%, but I just feel like if it were me, I would definitely let her know I was going to be moving across the country, right? I just don’t understand why we can’t still be, you know, friendly. Tell each other what’s going on in our lives, friend stuff.”

I’m truly trying to stay focused on this conversation, but… why can’t I stop thinking about cute subway guy?

That little smile he gave me right before the train started going again… Like, I’m still thinking about this person I saw for all of ten seconds.

And, like, why can’t I find someone like that for real?

Maybe I just need to try harder, actually talk to people and stop waiting for some perfect guy I’ve made up in my head to come to me.

I mean, there’s a solid amount of hot guys here tonight. There’s gotta be someone I can vibe with, even for just a one-night thing.

Okay, that’s going to be my goal. Talk to one. Just one…

So… let’s see, who do we have…?

No. Oh my god, no.

Is that…? It’s you.

“So, yeah, that’s been a shitshow. Anyway… what’s up with you? Hey. Um, hey, you still with me?”

“What? Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m sorry, I swear I was listening, I just… that guy.”

“What guy?”

“Over there at the jukebox—no, no, no don’t look, don’t look!”

“Relax, I’m stealthy. Mmm, very nice. He’s cute. So, who is he and why’s he got you all wound up?”

“He… I don’t actually know him.”

“Uh-huh…”

“I saw him on the train. And we kind of flirted. Sort of.”

“Okay, I need another look. Yeah, I’m getting a ‘my-girl-always-cums-first’ vibe.”

“It’s the beard… and those boots. Oh, and he was reading when I saw him.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s beyond hot. So… go talk to him.”

“No, no, no, I want to hang with you.”

“Please, I know how thirsty you’ve been. Plus, I see you all the time.”

“Okay, ouch. But fair, yeah, that’s true.”

“Go, I’ll be here.”

“Seriously? You’re the best.”

“I know I am.”

I slide out of my seat and head in your direction.

You’re engrossed in cycling through the pages of the jukebox. Your eyes are darting back and forth between each sleeve of CDs like you’re looking for something particular that you can’t find.

It’s usually pretty easy for me to talk to people. I’m the extrovert of our friend group, the one who always gets nominated too.

But you… you’re making me feel… fluttery.

I stand just slightly behind you, looking over your shoulder a little as you pause to read the track listing of a ’60s Disco compilation.

“Oh, I’m sorry—am I hogging the jukebox?”

“No, no, do your thing. But, just FYI, the bartenders here will skip any songs they don’t deem cool enough.”

“That so? Well, good thing I got good taste, then.”

“You definitely have good taste. I don’t see a lot of folks reading Octavia Butler on the train.”

“That was you. On the train, earlier.”

“Mhmm.”

“I was jealous your line got moving again. We sat there for another five minutes after yours departed. So, are you stalking me? Or am I stalking you?”

“Hmm, hard to say. Let’s call it even.”

“Fair.”

So, this is surprisingly easy… talking to you. Way easier than it usually is talking to random guys.

There’s just something about you that’s magnetic… drawing me in, pulling me forward.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure. Oh, I actually already have one back at my table.”

“You’re here with someone?”

“My friend, yeah. She did give me full permission to come over here and stalk you though.”

“That’s nice of her. Sounds like a good wingman.”

“She is, yeah. But since she already got me a drink, how about this? Your next one is on me if you can guess my drink of choice.”

“Ooh, I’m good at this. Okay, okay, let’s see… let me get a good look at you. Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. Extra-dry vodka martini, three olives, twist of lemon.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

“Wait, really?”

“No. I’m fucking with you.”

“Okay, wow.”

“I’m more of a tequila girl. Tequila soda with extra lime, to be exact.”

“Alright, well, I’ll remember that. Is your friend going to be mad if I steal you away?”

“Depends on where you’re going to take me, I guess.”

“I was thinking… outside? Grab a table? Little quieter on the patio.”

“Lead the way.”

I feel a pang of pleasure in my chest as you nod for me to follow you.

I’m impressed by your confidence, and a little bit impressed by mine as well. You’re clearly not afraid to go for it, which I love.

I… honestly… can’t really think of a reason not to see where this goes.

I take my phone out of my purse and shoot a quick text to Shelby. We’ve both got location-sharing enabled, so it’s not like I’m just letting some stranger whisk me away. She can always come and save me if I need a quick out.

You drop down into a wrought-iron chair and take a long sip from your drink. It’s much cooler out here than inside and I can feel my nerves fading away. I was a little nervous to talk to you; now I’m nervous that you’re going to slip away from me.

“So… you always pick up guys on the subway? Kind of an odd place, lot of weirdos.”

“No. To be fair, I picked you up at a bar.”

“Ah, that’s arguable. You were making eyes at me from your train.”

“So you did catch me staring?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“I just appreciate a good-looking guy when I see one. Men deserve to get objectified too now and again, no?”

“Hell yeah, we do. Good for the ego. Also, a little humbling.”

I shift in my seat a little and my knee brushes against yours. I look down, but don’t pull away. Neither do you.

You have such an ease about you, like speaking with a stranger is the most natural thing in the world. It’s charming, the way you tilt your head to the side a little every time you speak. How often you run your hands through your hair.

“So you’re here alone?”

“Well, not anymore I’m not. But I was, yeah, before you showed up.”

“And what are you doing at a bar on your own on a Tuesday night?”

“Best happy hour in town. Also, kind of weird, but this is one of my places to read.”

“My best friend thinks so, too. She’s always making me meet her here after work.”

“Where’s work?”

“Wait, wait. Before I answer, what if we… skip all that?”

“Skip all of what?”

“The what-do-you-do, what-are-you-into small talk. What if we just… skipped ahead to the getting out of here part?”

“Fine by me. My place?”

“Sounds good.”

The energy around us is suddenly different. Urgent, like we’ve got somewhere to be, something we should be doing.

I grab my purse and follow you out of the patio. My whole body is buzzing. I can’t wait for your hands to be on me, to feel your mouth on mine.

“Hey. Hold up.”

“What? What’s up?”

“I don’t want to wait that long. To get to your place.”

“Oh?”

“Here.”

“You want… here? Now?”

“Mmhmm. Right now.”

I walk us both forward and turn into the alley behind the bar. It’s dark, almost too dark to see the outline of your face as I guide you up against the brick wall.

“You’re not worried about someone seeing?”

“Does it look like I’m worried?”

“Fuck it. I’m down.”

I can feel my heartbeat in my throat as you grab my waist. You reverse our positions and push me up against the wall.

Your hands get tangled in my hair and settle on the back of my neck, bringing us even closer together.

You pull back for a moment, just to look at me while your hands drift down from my waist to my ass.

Your knee parts my legs as you lean in and push your tongue between my lips.

I lift up slightly, just enough to grind against your thigh.

“Oh… fuck…”

You trace a line up my side from my ass to my breast, like you can’t keep your hands off of me. You’re not being rough, but the way you squeeze my breasts isn’t exactly gentle either.

“Tell me what you like…”

“I’m a little impatient if you can’t tell.”

“Good, because I’m not much of a tease.”

I can feel my anticipation growing, clouding my mind and keeping me from being able to form full sentences. All I know is want. Need.

“Tell me more.”

“I like it a little hard… a little fast… kind of have a thing for being in public, clearly…”

“Clearly.”

“I’m really wet right now…”

“Yeah? Can I feel?”

“Fuck, please…”

You slip your hand down the waistband of my pants. You push my panties to the side and press your hand right up against my entrance.

“Oh, damn…”

Your fingers skate across my clit, moving in slow deliberate circles.

I suddenly notice just how loud my breathing is, how freely I’ve been moaning. I bite down on my lip as you pump your fingers up inside of me.

Slow and hard…

“Oh fuck, that’s it… see what you’re doing to me? Turning me on so much…”

I can feel your dick getting hard against me, but I’m too flustered to look. All I can do is squeeze the back of your shirt in my fist and try to keep my moans quiet.

I rock my hips against your fingers, trying to push you deeper inside of me. I’m so fucking wet, I can feel it against my thighs.

Your breath is hot against my cheek. God, I want more.

“Take out my dick.”

I fumble with your belt… the buttons of your pants… fuck, I can’t move fast enough.

Your fingers keep pumping inside me. My walls get tighter around them as you thrust harder and deeper.

I ride your hand as I take out your dick. As much as I want to just stay here and grind up against you, I kind of want to lean into how impulsive this whole thing is.

Your shaft is thick and hard as I open my mouth and settle my lips around the tip.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, yeah…”

You lean back against the wall and jut your hips forward, rocking yourself back and forth into my mouth.

Every part of me that’s touching you is warm, buzzing. I’ve completely stopped thinking at this point. I just want to fuck you. And for you to fuck me.

I jerk your shaft a little as I suck on the tip. My eyes meet yours for a few moments… before you tilt your head up and moan toward the sky.

“I got a condom… if you want to…”

“Yes, please. I want you to fuck me…”

You dig into your back pocket until you pull a condom out of your wallet. You hand it to me and I pump your dick a few times before rolling it down the shaft.

“Come here…”

I grab fistfuls of your shirt as you hook my leg around your hip. Fuck, I’m trying so hard not to come undone, but you’re so good at playing with my clit.

You tease the tip of your cock through my folds, pressing it at my entrance, but not pushing in.

“You good like this?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead…”

“Oh, fuck…”

You roll your hips forward and push your dick deep inside of me in one quick thrust.

You… completely fill me up. Your length just barely fits in me.

Every stroke is slow, but hard. Like you’re trying to keep our bodies as close together as possible. I lift my hips into you and try to get you even deeper.

“Oh my god, don’t hold back… please…”

My fingers squeeze tight around the back of your shirt as you pick up the pace. I feel like I’m burning up even with the cool breeze all around us. Like there’s heat swelling up deep in my belly.

“Fuck yes… yeah, yeah…”

I reach down between us and play with my clit while you fuck me. I couldn’t care less how close we are to the bar, how likely it is that someone can hear us.

“Harder—oh my god, please—harder—”

“Shit, I’m close…”

“Me too, keep going, keep going!”

I run my fingers over my clit, again and again, working it furiously. The feeling of being so wet in combination with your dick filling me to the brim is too good… too fucking good…

“Hey…”

“Hey.”

“Now that we got that over with… tell me about yourself.”

“Oh, now you wanna talk? Okay, let’s talk. Back at my place. You in?”

“Mmm, yes. Very in.”