Spontaneous Orgasm on the Commuter Train

I am an established professional man living in the New York metro area. Like many in the region, I have a lengthy commuter train ride each working day. Although I'm 46, most people tell me I look at least 10 years younger, and I maintain a daily workout regime to keep fit.

This past Monday began like any other, except that my regular train was more crowded than usual. When I boarded the train, the only available seat was a 'middle seat' in a three-across bench. On my left was an older, elegantly dressed African-American woman, and on my right was an attractive brunette who looked to be about 25.

As I settled into my seat, I was immediately physically attracted to the brunette, and I had sensed she was attracted to me as well. I have often sat near or next to women who enjoyed discretely masturbating while riding on the train, so I sensed an opportunity to get my week off to a good start!

Anyone who has ever ridden on these trains knows that it is not uncommon to come in physical contact with your seat-mates, because the bench seats are not that wide and there are no armrests separating the seats. This was especially true in this situation because the brunette had placed her briefcase on the floor between her feet, causing her to sit very close to my right side. She was working on some papers on her lap as the train pulled out of the station.

During the first few minutes of my ride, I noticed that the African-American woman on my left had fallen asleep, so as I 'read' my newspaper, I casually shifted my position so that my thigh gently began pressing up against the brunette's on my right. As I slowly increased the degree of contact, I was thrilled to find that she responded by subtly pressing her thigh back against mine. Then, about a minute later, she abruptly put her papers back into her briefcase, and shifted her seating position so that her legs were spread apart and her right leg was slightly propped up on the heating register on the floor, affording me an excellent view of her pelvis. At the same time she also placed her travel coffee mug tightly into her crotch and dropped her left hand down between her legs and around the mug so she could periodically press the mug between her thighs. Needless to say, this caused my level of arousal to skyrocket.

At one point during our ride, she shifted her foot against mine and gently caressed my foot, which practically drove me crazy. Later, when the conductor came by asking for tickets, I gently brushed the back of my right hand up the length of her thigh as I casually reached back for my wallet. She seemed to really enjoy the caress.

Over the next half-hour or so, we gently rubbed up against each others bodies and I would periodically tense and release my thigh muscles while she would occasionally press her coffee mug a bit harder against her crotch. While this was going on, I pretended to continue reading my paper, but I could only stare blankly at the printed pages because I was so focused on the sexual tension building inside me and my lovely anonymous partner.

As we neared the first stop in New York, I felt a small shudder course though my body, and for a brief moment I had difficulty holding the paper still, but my arousal level was so high I hardly noticed my body's movements. A couple of minutes later we pulled into the first NYC stop and a number of passengers got off. At that point, the African American woman got up to switch to an open two-seat bench, which would be more spacious and comfortable for everyone, rather than staying in the three-across arrangement. Protocol required that I slide one seat over to make more room as well, which I did, but it also meant moving further away from my self-pleasuring 'partner'.

As I moved over, I thought to myself, 'Well, the fun is over, but it was enjoyable while it lasted...'. But I was wrong. As the train pulled away towards the final stop, my new 'friend' took this opportunity to spread her legs more widely apart and bring both hands down between her thighs. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell by her rapid foot and leg movements that she was masturbating towards a climax. Moments later her body suddenly tensed up and she arched her back a little, then quickly bent fully forward so that her torso was almost between her thighs and then she slowly raised and twisted her upper body 90 degrees in my direction as her body writhed in climax. My body and mind were racing as this scene unfolded before me, almost in slow motion.

Shortly thereafter we pulled into Grand Central and began exiting the train. As I walked down the platform towards the stairs along with hundreds of other commuters, I suddenly noticed that my underwear felt wet - very wet, actually. And sticky. This didn't feel like a dime-sized spot of pre-cum that I would normally expect after this kind of experience. As I walked further down the dark platform, I casually ran my hand over my crotch. Sure enough, I could tell from the wetness on the outside of my trousers that I had fully orgasmed. I have never ejaculated as an adult without physically stimulating my penis, so at first I didn't think it possible. Then I remembered the shudder that had run through me back on the train. I quickly made the short walk to my office building and ducked into a rest room to access the damage. It turns out that my spludge had made quite wet spot on the front of my trousers, but fortunately they were a dark fabric and it was hard to tell unless you looked very carefully. Naturally, I kept a pretty low profile at the office until things dried up.

If my train-riding partner reads this, I hope she submits her own version of this event to your great web site. Whatever the case, for me it was a ride to remember.