Intimate Confessions

The conversation between the two was escalating in tone, starting with a simple provocation that soon turned into a confession full of desire.

He asked directly: “Do you imagine yourself on the bus and me pushing my cock against your Booty?” The response from his friend was also direct: I start to rub myself discreetly, ass against cock and wait for hand too.

It didn't take much more for their imagination to start flying, and she told him without reserve how she enjoyed those rubs on public transportation, playing with the limit between what was allowed and what was not, without anyone suspecting what was really happening.

Then he asked her to tell him a real-life experience. She hesitated for a moment but finally narrated her last adventure on the Sarmiento train, an episode that had left her burning for days. It was early morning; she wore tight jeans and a discreet little bag that, as she herself said, didn't ask to be touched... but fate had other plans.

The carriage was full from the first station, and when she got on, she barely managed to settle in amidst the crowd that pushed her towards the seat where two people were sitting. On her left was a boy who had fallen asleep next to the window, and on the side of the aisle, a fat man who filled his space with an intimidating calm.

Since she got on, she tried to avoid contact, keeping her distance. But as the train moved and more people boarded, the space reduced. By the third station, she was almost glued to the man. With each jolt of the train, she felt her body pressing against him, and her breathing accelerated imperceptibly. It wasn't her intention, but there was something about that involuntary rubbing that awakened an intense emotion in her, a subtle pleasure she couldn't ignore. She knew he also noticed it, but neither of them said anything.

The boy on her left continued to sleep deeply, while the older man gazed... at the front, she began to adjust herself in the seat. The man let his arm fall onto the armrest, just at the height of her hips, and she, becoming increasingly aware of her own excitement, took advantage of that proximity to rub against him slightly, feeling how the fabric of her pants tightened her body. A slight movement on her part made her side press even more against him, and the man, apparently unmoved, only adjusted his position. It seemed like a silent game, where each one pretended not to notice the other, but in reality, both knew exactly what was happening.

Then the man began to move his wrist, as if scratching slowly, and with each movement managed to brush against her just on the edge of her pussy, pressing each time with more intention. At first, the rubs were soft, barely perceptible, but as the train advanced and more people entered, his movements became more evident. She was pretending, looking straight ahead and maintaining a serious expression, as if she were annoyed by the crowd's pressure, while secretly feeling latent pleasure inside. The arm was now just at the height of her crotch, and each jolt of the train brought it closer. She tried to move, but was completely pressed in, with no escape. Feeling the pressure of his hand against her pussy, she then stopped trying to avoid it. The discomfort transformed into intense and forbidden pleasure. She could feel his fingers just where her body needed more contact; one pressed lightly on the seam of her jeans, while another slipped against one of her lips that protruded swollen with desire. The man moved his arm slowly, pretending nothing was happening, but each movement of the train made his fingers continue playing with her crotch almost as if it were unintentional. The rubs were minimal, but felt like electric shocks. She closed her eyes for a second and enjoyed the sensation without anyone else noticing. The presence of the sleeping boy beside him made everything even more exciting. He was completely absorbed in his sleep, while she and the older man shared a secret and intense moment in silence. The warmth of her body increased, and the pressure on her jeans made her feel every movement of the train like an additional provocation.

When arriving at her station, she pushed through the crowd and got off with her heart beating strongly. But before she could leave, she felt a presence behind her. Turning around, the older man was there, with a sideways smile. Did you enjoy it? he whispered, with a gaze that conveyed he had been as aware of every second as she was. She felt a shiver; although she liked the game, the intensity of the moment overwhelmed her, and she preferred to leave.

Looking back, the man had already disappeared into the crowd. Leaving her with the memory of an encounter that no one else had seen, and which left her with a mix of relief, desire, and adrenaline that still felt on her skin.