GOING UNDERGROUND
(by ARTHUR)

Alison skipped lightly off the bus at Seven Sisters and made her way to the entrance of the tube. Man, it was hot. She could already feel the sweat on her body, her thighs gliding over one another, and she was glad she’d dressed lightly in a short, loose-fitting dress. It was too damn hot to be covered up – she’d even gone bra-less, which she never did, but was glad as she felt any cool breeze waft over her breasts. As she descended the steps into the station, holding her skirt as it billowed up in the draught revealing her long ebony legs, the heat really hit her. It was a hot, wet, muggy heat. By the time she reached the bottom she could feel a trickle of sweat roll down her back.

The platform absolutely packed, she caught the tail-end of a muffled station announcement about signal problems and she had to fight through the crowd to get even close to a door. She waited in the throng, squashed from all sides by fellow passengers. After a couple of minutes, a train pulled in, and the crowd surged forward, carrying Alison with them into the carriage. She fought her way to the middle of the standing area, grabbing the vertical pole, but the influx of people continued, pushing her into the pole. Almost immediately she became aware of a body pressing against her back. The carriage was now too tightly packed for her to move, or even see who it was, but she could feel smooth, bare shoulders against hers, and long hair against her back, definitely female.

The doors slid shut, forcing the stragglers in even tighter, and she felt the buttocks of the person behind push hard against hers. It was a very firm, round behind, thought Alison. Definitely female, very tight and toned. Alison had the ass of a typical Jamaican - round, soft, sticking out. It was one of her best features, or at least the one that got her most attention. As the train pulled away with a jolt, their behinds, both slick with perspiration, slid over each other, and as the carriage swayed and juddered in transit, the small, hard behind pushed into hers, spreading her buttocks apart as it began to muscle its way between them.

Alison panicked slightly, trapped as she was against the pole and unable to move forward, and she shifted her weight slightly to one side to free herself. Big mistake. It only had the effect of moving her ass slightly to the side, so that their buttocks interlocked, almost snapping together, so tightly were they jammed together. The carriage rocked back and forth, grinding her right buttock up and down between those behind her, and vice versa, as if their asses were sawing each other in half. Flesh burrowing deep into flesh, twitching and clenching on each other as they counteracted the jerking of the carriage.

Alison started to become aware of bare flesh against hers, and realized that the seesawing of her body against another was slowly and inexorably dragging her dress up. She could feel the bottom of the woman’s exposed buttocks slipping over her own as their dresses rode up. Hidden behind her sunglasses, she looked nervously around the carriage, but everyone was too preoccupied with avoiding armpits and trying to find an inch of personal space for themselves, to worry about two women locked tightly ass-to-ass in the middle of the carriage. Besides, it was impossible to see anything below the waist anyway.

Alison couldn’t even squeeze a hand down there to tug her dress down. She couldn’t help but wonder what the woman looked like. She was obviously around the same height, and from the feel of the tight buttocks grinding hard between her own, slim and toned. She caught herself hoping the woman was attractive, and then wondered why and giggled to herself.

Finally, they reached Finsbury Park and the doors opened, easing the crush. Their buttocks slid apart, breaking their sweaty embrace, and Alison immediately turned round, pulling at her hem, in time to see the woman behind her turn to face her. She studied her from behind her shades.
She was about five - eight, with long straight brunette hair and grey green eyes. Slim but with a full, pert bosom that swung freely under her dress. A bit Meagan Fox-ish, thought Alison, who suddenly and involuntarily found herself wondering what her body looked like under the loose white cotton shift she was wearing. If her toned, slightly muscled thighs were anything to go by, it was probably pretty good. A sly half-smile seemed to play on the woman’s lips but before Alison could wonder why, the waiting crowd surged forward into the carriage, driving the woman towards her. Alison retreated, only to find the pole behind her now, and the woman was pushed firmly into her, their entire bodies from chest downwards pressed hard against each other. So close were they that they had to arch their necks back slightly to prevent their lips from touching, until they moved their heads to one side.

“Erm... pleased to meet you.” The woman whispered in her ear, making Alison smile.

She could sense the woman’s cheek mere millimeters from hers. More urgent than that, she could feel the fleshy mound of the woman’s crotch pushed against her own, and tried to move back, only for her buttocks to meet the cold metal of the pole behind her, causing her to jerk her hips forward again in surprise, thrusting her pussy back into the woman’s. “Shit,” thought Alison, “I hope she doesn’t think I did that on purpose.”

As if in reply, as the train jerked into life, she felt the woman’s pussy push back, ever so slightly, against her, but it was impossible to tell if it was due to the motion of the train or something more intentional. As the carriage clattered unsteadily through the tunnel, Alison began to wish she’d stayed facing the other way. Grinding asses was one thing, but this was a whole other ball game. She suddenly seemed to have a heightened awareness of her entire body.

Looking down, she could see her own breasts push and squash against the other woman’s tits. So tightly were they pressed together that she could feel the woman inhale, the pressure on her stomach increasing slightly each time they breathed in. She could feel thigh pressed against thigh. But most of all, she could feel pussy. Her pussy. The other woman’s pussy. Pushed together, rubbing against each other as the carriage swayed, vibrating against each other as the motors rumbled. And more than that, Alison realized it felt good.

Again she cast a glance around the carriage, but again everyone was too preoccupied with their own discomfort to notice the two of them locked together. The train jerked suddenly to a halt, shifting the woman’s body slightly to one side and releasing the pressure on their pussies. The driver’s voice came over the tannoy, apologizing that they were being held at a red signal. Alison heard a voice whisper gently her ear.

“Well, I guess there are worse places to be stuck?”

She giggled nervously and turned her head towards the woman, who at that very moment had decided to turn her own head towards her, so that their lips accidently brushed across each other’s, almost imperceptibly. Their eyes met for the first time, and even though she was hidden behind her glasses, Alison swallowed hard as the woman held her gaze. She smiled slightly, and Alison felt the woman’s thigh slide slowly between her own, now soaked with sweat. Without thinking, she found herself shifting her weight onto one leg, sliding the other between the woman’s soft, smooth thighs. The woman flicked her tongue over her lips where Alison’s had touched them moments before, and smiling, moved her head back beside Alison’s.

They seemed to be held in the tunnel, for an age, with Alison not daring to move. She could feel the soft giving flesh of the woman’s inner thigh against her own, and started to wish the train would set off again so that she would feel them move against one another, feel them slip and slide. She was conscious of her heart pounding, and felt sure that the woman could feel it too. Looking down, she could see a bead of perspiration trickling down the woman’s chest, slowly making its way to the point at which their breasts were pressed together. It seemed to take forever, and when it finally sank into the crease between their bodies it sent a tingle up her spine to think of their sweat mingling.

Finally the train jerked into life, and the woman threw up a hand to keep her balance, placing it on Alison’s ribcage. She felt the woman’s leg push further between her own, the top of her thigh pressing gently but firmly on Alison’s pussy. The woman seemed in no hurry to remove her hand, instead letting it move slowly down the side of Alison’s body to her waist, her hips, the top of her thigh, her fingers tracing a line. Alison’s mind was scrambling. On the one hand, she was pressed in the most intimate way against this woman, her breasts jiggling against hers, their thighs almost intertwined, pushing against their most intimate and sensitive areas, rubbing, slipping, sliding. Was it just circumstances, just a crowded tube and nothing more? Surely it couldn’t all be in her imagination?

Highbury & Islington came and went without any let up in the crush. The train seemed to rock its way through the tunnel in a consistent rhythm, causing their thighs to slide in and out, in and out, in and out, at a constant metronomic pace. Behind her glasses, Alison closed her eyes, feeling her pussy start to moisten from friction, and had to fight to control her breathing. The train braked sharply in Kings Cross, driving the woman’s thigh harder into Alison’s pussy, causing her to grunt slightly with shock and pleasure. She felt the woman’s breath on her ear, her lips brush lightly on the lobe as she whispered “Sorry.”

Again, Alison turned her head to the woman, and the woman to her, and they held each other’s gaze, lips only millimeters apart, oblivious to the other passengers pouring off the carriage around them. Despite, the sudden availability of space, the woman didn’t move, and Alison started to wonder if anyone would notice these two women still pressed together for no apparent reason, but soon the departed were replaced by an influx of new commuters, jamming them back into place.

Still they looked at each other, Alison given confidence by the sanctuary of her sunglasses. As the train pulled out, she used the sudden jolt as an excuse to raise her own hand and put it on the woman’s hip, and felt the woman’s fingertips brush the top of her thigh. The woman smiled again, and Alison responded, although she had to break her gaze through shyness. The fronts of their dresses were drenched in each other’s sweat now, their bodies sliding and gliding freely and without friction over each other. Alison began to feel a stirring inside her as she subtly stroked the woman’s body, and calculated she was about three stops from coming all over the woman’s thigh, which was also exactly how many stops were left to her destination. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Alison couldn’t decide.

She’d never had any kind of sexual contact with another woman in her life, not so much as an experimental kiss, and now here she was virtually fucking and being fucked by one. In public, no less.

The train hurtled into Euston and as it pulled to a halt, she felt the woman’s lips on her ear again. “Gotta’ go.” She felt the woman’s leg slip from between hers, releasing a cascade of sweat down the inside of her leg. She felt the woman unglue her body from her own as she backed away. And with a final small and a half wave, she turned and was gone. The doors closed and Alison sank back against the pole, feeling her body trembling all over. If she could have found a quiet corner away from everyone, she would have finished herself off there and then.

Two stops later, and she alighted at Oxford Circus, desperate to find some respite from the heat. She wandered in and out of shops, taking refuge in the air-conditioned coolness, trying to calm herself but unable to get the woman out of her mind, her eyes, her lips, the feel of her body against hers, the touch of her hand on her. She wondered if she would ever see the woman again, whether if she took the train at the same time tomorrow or the next day, she might engineer another meeting. And then what? What would she do?

After an hour of aimless, distracted browsing, she found herself in Top Shop, flipping through the racks, plucking out a dress or two to try on. As she made her way slowly to the changing rooms, she heard a voice whisper in her ear. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

Alison’s heart somersaulted as she turned and saw the woman standing behind her, smiling.

“Hi!”

“Hi!” replied Alison.

“I guess we should be formally introduced. I’m Lucy.”

“Alison.”

They made idle chit-chat for a minute or so, Lucy telling her where she lived (Seven Sisters), what she did for a living (Physiotherapy student), asking Alison questions to which she gave short, polite answers. Then, noticing the dresses Alison was holding... “Sorry, were you off to try some things on?”

“Er... yeah.”

“Hey, do you mind if I come with? I’ve got some things here and it’d be good to get a second opinion.”

“Erm, ok.” Said Alison, nervously.

Lucy grinned devilishly. “After all, you know my body pretty well by now.”

Lucy led the way to the changing rooms. The cubicles were cramped, barely big enough for one person to disrobe in, let alone two. They squeezed inside and closed the door, their bodies unable to avoid each other. Lucy reached down and pulled her dress up over her head. Alison, behind her, got her first view of the body that had only just been pressed against hers, and felt the stirring inside her again. The firm, round, muscled bottom in front of her which had so recently invaded her own, the flat, hard stomach and pert, bouncy breasts she could see in the mirror, the pussy encased in the tiniest triangle of black cotton of her g string.

Lucy bent down to step into a dress, pushing her warm, firm ass back into Alison, pressing her against the wall. She straightened up and asked Alison to zip her up, then posed in the mirror, umming and ahhing over it. She asked Alison to unzip her, and slipping the straps from her shoulders, let it drop to the floor. She bent to retrieve it, and again her bum pushed into Alison’s crotch, harder this time. Straightening up, she turned to face Alison.

“How about you? Why don’t you try something on?”

Alison reached down to the hem of her dress and lifted it up over her head. As she arched her back, she could feel her nipples brush lightly over Lucy’s, and momentarily thought her legs might give way. She grabbed one of the dresses and slipped it over her head and down her body. Lucy made encouraging noises about how good it looked but Alison wasn’t really interested in dresses any more. Their eyes met, and Alison found it impossible to break the gaze. Lucy reached down to the hem and began to pull the dress up. Alison raised her arms, and as Lucy lifted the dress up over her head she again felt their breasts meet. Firmer this time, fully pressed together. As she freed her head from the dress, she found Lucy’s face right in front of hers, their arms raised high, breasts pushing into one another. Lucy cast the dress aside and took Alison’s hands in her own, bringing them slowly down to their sides, all the time looking deep into her eyes.

She looked down at Alison’s lips, and Alison automatically looked down too, at Lucy’s lips, moist, slightly parted, inviting. Slowly, slowly, they came together, the lips just touching. It was Lucy who broke the moment.

“I think we have some unfinished business, don’t you?”

They allowed their bodies to slide together, merging, melding together, thighs sliding between thighs. Lucy reached up, brushing a stray braid from Alison’s forehead, and then pulled her face towards her. And then her mouth was on her, gently at first, then pressing harder, then slowly sucking. Lips parting now, tongues tentatively meeting halfway, then invading each others’ mouth. Their arms snaked around each other, pulling their bodies tightly together. Passion turned into lust, then desperation, their hands scrabbling at each others’ body. Alison suddenly felt no shyness as she reached around to grab Lucy’s buttocks and pull her even tighter into her, their hips grinding together. She felt Lucy’s hands slide into the waistband of her thong, tugging them down over her buttocks. She followed suit, and they allowed their crotches to part momentarily to let them expose their smooth, shaven pussies, letting them drop to the floor before sliding them back together again.

Lucy maneuvered Alison to the wall of the cubicle, leaning her back against it. Reaching round to each other’s ass, they pulled themselves tightly into each other as they established a rhythm, grinding their thighs in and out, in and out.

Alison began to moan as she began to lose control, and Lucy had to gently shush her. Their bodies were arched now, merged into one at the crotch, but gradually parting at the top, only their nipples brushed and flicked against each other’s, their lips brushing together as they maintained eye contact. Alison’s hips began to jerk as she reached her peak, coming hard on Lucy’s leg. She forced her mouth onto Lucy’s to muffle her cries, and felt Lucy’s buttocks tighten in her hands as she reached her own orgasm. They wrapped their arms around each other, kissing each other softly on the lips and neck as they slowly recovered their composure.

"That was amazing.” whispered Alison. “Do you do this often?”

“No!” laughed Lucy. “First time. But I hope it’s not the last.”

“Me too.” said Alison with a smile. “What are you up to tomorrow?”

The End?