I was steadily staring at him from the corner of my eyes trying to make it not too obvious that I was going crazy with sexual tension. He was about six foot ten, dark eyes, long black hair ,he had snake bites on his thick juicy lips and sleeves going up his arm, it only made me want to see what was behind his black button up shirt. Goths, punks, rockers, long hair, piercings and tattoos drive me absolutely crazy with lust. And the perfect specimen was three seats away and right across from me. I looked down and I could see the outline of a nicely sized cock through his torn up black jeans and imagined myself jumping up and down on him with his huge throbbing cock swelling up inside me, filling me up, while I ride his cock harder and harder, and then I come to, realizing I am just fantasizing again.
I look back up at his face and see that he caught me staring, and he gave me a devilish smirk that nearly made me cum right then and there. I smirked back, I felt pretty sexy, I was wearing my tripp skirt and corset with my black buckle boots and looked like a dark sex goddess, my own ink showing at my thigh, right where my skirt ended so it was a teaser.
I was about thirty more minutes from my house and the train seemed to be going slower than normal. I reached into my bag and grabbed out my book so at least I could stare at this guy and not look as obvious about it. I opened it about halfway through and tore a little piece of it out to jot my number down for him. Every now and again I look over it to stare at the guy who I would love to tie down and fuck over and over. In my peripherals I could swear he was checking me out too, I saw him stare me up and down checking out my curves and possibly trying to see my ink up my skirt.
The train finally slowed to a halt and I stood up to get my things to head home but before I left I saw the guy give me the same devilish smirk from before.