I live in a suburb of a large city. Some might call it an exurb. I have a great job in the city center, which I commute to daily. Some people hate a long commute, but I enjoy it. I live near the station at the end of the line. This gives me a choice of seats when I get on in the morning. I always sit in the upper deck because it gives me the privacy I want. The only seat within my vision is the identical seat on the other side of the upper deck. I love my commute. I read the news. I get some work done. I sometimes sleep.

My reverse commute is similar; I almost always work late. But I get to the train early enough to get my seat. I really did feel it was mine.

For the most part, I didn’t take notice of who sat near or across from me. I enjoyed the privacy of the single seat on the upper deck, especially when compared to the forced pairing of the double seats on the lower deck. Then, one day, that changed. I took my regular seat in the almost empty car. At the second stop, I glanced across to the seat opposite mine. The seat was taken by a quite lovely and well-dressed woman. As she took the seat, she glanced at me and smiled. I smiled back.

I couldn’t help but notice that the same woman began taking the same seat heading downtown, as well as coming home. She got on at the same station every morning, and was seated across from me going home before I took my seat. She was attractive, well-built, and always stylishly attired.

After a few weeks, we began to nod or smile at each other. There were no words, just friendly acknowledgment. I did notice that this woman, unlike many of the women on the train, always wore a skirt or dress. I loved that.

Her commute became routine - always taking the seat across from me. We occasionally nodded or smiled at each other. A few weeks into this new routine, I happened to glance over as the train slowed as it approached her stop. She swung her body sideways in order to exit the seat. As she did, she raised a leg, clearly exposing the black thong she was wearing. As she stood, she looked over and smiled. I smiled back. “Was that intentional?” I thought.

After a few rides, I decided the “flash” was purely accidental. But then it happened again. She was wearing a tight black pencil skirt that was well above her knees. It showed off her attractive, athletic legs. When she turned to get up, she pulled her skirt up and spread her legs. Pink lace panties were clearly visible. She smiled. I smiled. She exited the train.

Three days later, she smiled, turned on her seat, and simply spread her legs. This time, she pulled her skirt up, giving me a very splendid view of what was obviously a thong. I could see a bit of hair on either side of the thin piece of fabric. She let me stare for a few seconds. I felt my cock start to stiffen. She smiled, and I smiled back. Then she turned and was gone down the stairs.

I came to realize that these little scenes would only occur when the upper deck was occupied by only the two of us. I was right. The next time the upper deck (and most of the lower deck) was vacated, it happened again. This time, right after the stop prior to her stop, she turned to face me. She was wearing a conservative skirt suit. The pleated dark blue skirt came to just above the knee. This time, she smiled and looked directly at me. She spread her legs while simultaneously lifting the skirt with both hands. I made no pretense of avoiding a stare. I smiled. As the hem of the skirt lifted high enough to get a clear view of her crotch, I realized she had no panties on. I observed a nicely trimmed bush. She spread her legs wider, allowing a clear view of her vagina.

She smiled. I smiled. I was hard as a rock. She smiled broadly as she stared at the shifting bulge in my pants. Then, without a word, she straightened her skirt, placed her feet down, stood, and exited. I sat, my throbbing cock aching to release itself.

The next few commutes were disappointing. If there was another person on the upper deck, she paid no attention to me. No smile, and certainly no flashing.

But then, on a ride home, with only the two of us on the upper deck, the train came to a sudden halt. She looked over and smiled. She lifted her skirt. No panties. I had a full view of a neatly trimmed vagina. She smiled and nodded, staring at my crotch. Then she did something extraordinary. She slowly began rubbing her clit with her thumb while inserting her index finger in her wet hole.

At the same time, she nodded at my crotch, smiling, as if to say, “join me.” I smiled back. I turned and slowly began pulling down the zipper on my pants. I looked up. She mouthed the word “yes.” With that, I reached in and pulled out my fully erect cock. She stared and smiled broadly. As she inserted another finger deep in her wet cunt. I began stroking. I was lost in the moment, staring at this beautiful young woman, masturbating only a few feet from me. We both masturbated while smiling at each other. I heard her moan slightly. She was clearly having an orgasm. I stroked my stiff cock faster. Suddenly, I shot a stream of semen in the air. She smiled. Two more squirts. The train began moving. Soon, we were nearing her station. She rose, smiled, and exited.

I never saw her again. But what a memory.