Dozing on an empty night-time tube,
Late-night, post-party, tipsy:
Jerked awake
As train pulls out of Russell Square;
And there he is:
Sat opposite me; man of all my dreams.
 
Blue eyes, short hair, chin
Flecked with darkish stubble,
Tight T-shirt wrapping tighter body. Fuck,
I want him; want him now.
 
Our eyes meet, flick away,
Then back. Both
Smile, a moment shared.
I bite my lip, then shift;
Legs drift apart as if by
Chance not choice,
Exposing peek of pretty panty,
If he should care to look.
 
We’re through King’s Cross,
And suddenly he’s here
Beside me. Few brief words exchanged,
Hand casual on my leg
(Bare in too-short skirt)
Then sliding gently up,
Seeking glimpsed panties.

Face hangs near mine.
Caledonian Road clatters past
As Scottish burr breaths syllables of lust,
Of wanton passion matching mine.
With hope my boozy breath
Won’t kill the mood, I lean
And kiss him on the lips,
Mouth open, tongue round his,

My hand dropped in his lap.
Oh God, he’s big.
And hard – already hard.
Squeeze gently at his bulge,
Absorb the meaty heat.
(That was Holloway Road),
And my fingers stay (stray) at
His crotch
As his slide round my waist.
 
We pass through Arsenal; feel
His hand firm on my bum,
Squeeze my soft cheeks.
First through skirt,
Then, bolder, slipping under,
Hot hand on my bare skin.
I feel my juices welling
Wet with want.
I moan, push at him,
Willing him to act.

Finsbury Park;
And his lust explodes.
Rips at my white blouse;
Pulls it open;
Buttons pop and scatter,
Boobs bounce,
Barely contained in lacy bra.
I gasp, thrilled by his desire.
 
Manor House;
All inhibitions gone,
I drag my bra cups down,
Exposing little breasts,
Pink nipples pebble-hard;
His mouth takes one,
Nips the excited bud.
 
Tugging at his zip,
I grope for bulbous cock.
One expert flick; it’s out,
Rearing from trousers,
Pulsing purple throbber.
(Was that Turnpike Lane?
I hardly care.)
 
I pull my skirt up round my waist,
His shiny knob (slick with pre-cum)
Nudges against black panties.
His hand grasps the flimsy lace
And tugs -
A sharp rip,
And my cunt is bare,
Pink flesh under plump mound,
Exposed and dripping.
 
As we leave Wood Green,
Scent of wet pussy
Fills my nostrils.
I raise myself;
Knob finds hole,
Eases between labia.
I drop -
And he’s in me.
 
Just for a moment I rest,
Feeling his hardness
Filling me, stretching me; then,
(Thundering through Bounds Green,)
I ride him:
Feeding him my little tits,
As the slurp and slap of cock in cunt
Drowns the rattle of the speeding tube.
 
Arnos Grove’s a blur:
Only the slap, slap, slap
Of my thighs against his,
The world contracted
To our fevered lust;
Just cock and cunt
And cunt and cock;
Our frenzied copulation
All we know and need.
 
Flash of Southgate
Through the steamy glass;
I sense he’s close.
His hands grip hard my waist:
He grunts:
I squeeze my cunt walls tight:
And then he fills me.
Pulsing cock spurts out his creamy muck,
As I come too,
A scream of lust, then
Slump on him,
Cum oozes out and down my thighs,
Pools in his pubic hair.
 
It’s over.