(Simone) Life as a commute*

Simone watched the world slide by her train carriage window… thinking that this daily journey might soon be a thing of the past for her. Her small, but prestigious little arts college sat buried in the outskirts of the city, rather than right in the middle like Grace and Alex's grand institution. Much easier for her to commute to while still living at home. Every day her father’s battered old truck still rattled her down to the station. The bone-shaking, more-pothole-than-road passage giving rhythm to her inevitable bouncing upon his lap. It had seemed like nothing could keep him out of her, since the news had come… Only the hours she spent travelling or working on her projects gave a moment’s reprieve from his insistent pumping in and out, in and out…

A cool draft of air blustered in as the train’s doors opened onto yet another platform. The first hints of fall gracing the world at large. It whipped up under the hem of Simone’s short, smart dress and into the unprotected gap between her thighs. She’d given up on her rebellious dedication to underwear… it was just too much hassle to keep washing such pointless accessories. The kiss of the breeze against her exposed pussy told her everything she already knew… She felt so empty when his cock wasn’t buried there…

Across the carriage a mother and daughter were being harassed. The girl, somewhere in her late teens, was trying not to look embarrassed as her parent guzzled enthusiastically down on the phallus's of several young men who must surely have been her child’s classmates. They were trying to inexperiencedly work out how best to arrange themselves in order to delve into both her anus and vagina at once. Meanwhile a cranky, old businessman was tutting unimpressed at the younger generation’s half-hearted hand-job. It was clear she just wasn’t cut out for being the centre of attention like this. Simone guessed the highschooler was an only child and more of the ‘tie me up in the library and do what you want to me’ type. Intimidated by the confidently, up-front lusts of her mother dearest. As she watched the old man finally groan out an orgasm and pour himself out onto the unhappy-looking face below... A certain wave of nostalgia overtook the now-graduated ice-queen. As another man quickly took the previous one’s place, she wondered just what it was which drove these apes to desire more those who showed no interest, when there were so many always eagerly-open holes to choose from. It was in humanity’s very nature to fuck and suck and swallow everything that was offered... of that she had no doubt. So what cruel God then layered such doubts and kinks and emotional hang-ups on top of that, for some people?

Simone thought back to every warm bathing in friend’s and stranger’s spunk she had ever received. The habitual ritual that had defined each and every day of her schooling. Her heart had always beat at the thrill of it. Her socially-superior classmate’s jealousy had been clear and vicious because of it. Yet, had she let slip for a second the visible surety that it more disgusted her than aroused her… then they would have simply got bored and stopped doing it. The true devotion she had once felt toward only allowing her father to invade her, had slowly malformed into a twisted glee she gained from refusing that which others offered so easily. It sent tingles up and down her spine and set her lower lips to gushing every time one of those blue-balled fucks snuck up on her and unleashed their frustrations in a salty, sticky torrent. In the end, that had been all she had hungered for… that ever-burning burden of restraint and anticipation. Feeling the desperation of one soul after another burst forth all over her, while she had to hold onto her willpower with ever-ragged fingernails… waiting for that pure, blissful moment when she would be back with him. Feeling that one shaft which made her burying itself deep, deep into the heart of her.

Simone let her eyes drift over the girl opposite once again, tempered now, by another angle of view. She watched for the little signs. The slightly caught breaths and half-hidden nipples. The eye-avoiding blushes and purposeful fumbles. Sure enough… there was something underneath. Lightning hidden under fretful skin. Two 30-something office-workers were now leering down at her, trying to teach her how a ‘real woman’ should service them… She followed their guidance meekly. Making mistakes here and there. Those large and innocent eyes gazing up in pleading askance… A smirk crossed Simone’s lips as she recognised the power in knowing what you wanted. The fantasies of others you could live in. Her hand drifted down past her own belly… pausing for just a moment… before settling down further to work.