The northbound D train often got stuck in that right-hand curve into 205th Street station. That was not unusual, because 205th was the terminal and trains had to clear the platform before another train could enter.

Except on that night, it was the ungodly hour of nearly 3:00 AM when I was sitting there. This being May of 1977, public employees were completely demoralized and didn’t give a damn about doing their jobs. Thus there were no announcements from either the train operator or the conductor.

I was a college senior at that point, nearing graduation, and I was returning from a party down in Manhattan. I had tried my first Thai stick, which was more potent than I had expected. Now I was coming down from the high, but I was stuck in that empty car. The two adjacent cars, which were bending in the same curve, were empty too.

The storm door at the north end opened, and a girl of about my age walked in. With her brown hair and steel-rimmed glasses, she looked like one of about ten thousand other New York girls. The most notable thing about her was her short black and white skirt, which showed off her slender, pale legs.

My first thought about her was, I wonder what kind of panties this chick is wearing? I was soon going to find out.

She stopped opposite me, and instead of saying hello, she said, “Are you high on something?”

“Yeah, I am. I had my first Thai stick tonight, but I’m coming down off of it now.”

“Well, I had some lines of coke tonight, but I’m coming off of it now too.” She did seem somewhat bubbly and energetic.

Then she caught me unawares by sitting directly opposite me. I figured I had to be bold and attempt some kind of approach to her. I came up with, “Pot always makes me horny.”

“Cocaine does that to me too.”

That was all it took. She lifted one of her feet (she had tennis shoes on), placed it on the blue plastic seat, and spread her legs. Her panties seemed to be basic white bikini briefs.

“You dirty boy, you’re looking at my panties.”

“You dirty girl, you’re showing them to me.”

She crooked a finger at me to have me come over. I pointed to myself, me?

Her nod meant, yes, you.

I went over to her side, and well, we just went at each other. She unbuckled my pants and started stroking my cock. I lifted her blouse, but I couldn’t undo her bra so I just pulled it down and her small, pointy breasts fell out.

It seemed obvious that I had permission to go below the waist and under the clothes, as that old expression goes. I yanked her panties off and dropped them on the floor, then I fondled her genitals. Through all of this foreplay, we made a lot of noise, encouraging each other and moaning with pleasure.

When it came time to penetrate her, we had the most basic kind of sex act. She sat back on the seat with that distinctive Transit Authority aquamarine blue color. I hunched over her and just thrust into her, hard, not too fast, but steady. She spread her legs wide, held my back, and we groaned each time our crotches collided.

Maybe I wasn’t that surprised that she came first. Her legs went even wider, she yelled something like “A-h-h-h” and then she clamped her thighs around me.

When my turn came, I said one of those usual dumb things. “God, I’m going to come in you.”

She had her own silly reply, “Please, put your big hot load into me.” If that was what the lady wanted, then that was what she was going to get, so I promptly ejaculated into her.

Then the aftermath. I pulled out and sat in the seat; she sat up on her side. I was afraid to look at her at first, but when I did, I saw that her mouth was partially open. Then I knew my mouth was open too.

The first thing she said was, “When we get to 205th, you’ve going to disappear I guess.”

“I’m not going to disappear unless you want me to.”

“No, I don’t want you to just disappear.”

“Okay, I’m Hank by the way.”

“I’m Celeste.”

“I’ve never met a Celeste before. Where did you live, anyway?”

“Right here on Hull Avenue.”

“You see, we’re practically neighbors. I’m over on Bronx Boulevard.”

She did surprise me by putting her arms around me and kissing me warmly. Better late than ever. Then she said, “So what are you planning to do?”

“First, I’m going to walk you home. Then, tomorrow, we should go for drinks and something to eat at one of those Irish pubs up here on Bainbridge.”

“You really want to date me?”

“Of course, Celeste. I now know that you are a sure thing.” It must have been the right thing to say because she laughed at my reply.

I said, “Why were you walking through the train?”

“I was looking for the conductor’s position.”

“You were going the wrong way, you know.”

“Oh, I guess it’s moot now, but thanks for telling me!”

Then the train started to move, and we pulled our clothes together. When we finally got to 205th, she put her arm through mine and we went to the escalator.

I guess I have a new girlfriend now. I met her, fucked her, kissed her, and then asked her for a date. It was all out of order, but it had worked.

I glanced back at the train. Car 3376, class R-32, the Budd Company, 1964; the first big order of stainless steel cars by the T.A. I’d never forget that car.

*****