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Sandy stepped out of the shower, dried herself and turned on the radio while doing her hair and putting on her makeup. Her husband Dean was already off to work, and Sandy had the day off. “Another pressure cooker for New Yorkers today” announced the DJ. “Expect highs in the mid 90 degrees plus with humidity at 88 percent. City officials are concerned about the safety of the elderly and advise that you call them if you know of anyone that may need assistance due to ill health. The state power authority is also asking everyone with air conditioners to be sparing in order to prevent brownouts. The rest of you in radioland just get used to it-that’s what being a New Yorker is all about in July.”
“Great” thought Sandy. Even though she was headed to Coney Island to meet her friend Cherie, she didn’t relish the long un-air-conditioned subway ride from uptown Manhattan’s West Side to Brooklyn. It was already in the upper 80’s and the apartment air conditioner was working at a frantic pace. No matter how much she toweled off, Sandy remained damp. Her hair was limp and it definitely was a “bad hair day” for Sandy. The only saving grace was a day planned close to the sea and the hopes of a breeze to cool off with.
Sandy contemplated what to wear for the long hot subway ride. It was Tuesday morning and the rush hour crowds would be enormous, not to mention the additional traffic to Coney Island where people would flock to swim and to spend a hot summer day in the relative coolness by the seashore. She decided on a very light summer dress that fell just above the knee. The button up skirt front could be opened slightly higher for added coolness. She packed a bikini in her bag, opting not to put it on due to the heat. She simply put on the dress and wore nothing underneath, and the unfettered feeling of freedom was actually slightly titillating to Sandy.
After a long ride from uptown Manhattan, Sandy finally connected with the Brooklyn subway to Coney Island. She boarded the train and realized it was full-standing room only. She quickly found a spot in the crowd by a support pole. Sandy now cursed her decision to meet her friend on this day.
At the next stop, the train was boarded by a troop of 20 young sailors in their summer uniforms. Obviously on shore leave, they were in great spirits, joking and boisterous,— but they brought the crowd in the train to a crushing mass. Sandy was surrounded by at least five of them who had latched on to the support pole where she stood.
As the train lurched forward and gathered speed, the bodies pressed against her irritated Sandy at first, but as she stole glances and noticed the healthy males around her she began to feel somewhat sensuous. She noticed the air was filled with the perfume of various aftershave lotions mixed with the musky smell of bodies in the humid heat. It was not body odor of the offensive kind, but rather a pheromone type of scent that exuded sensuality and masculinity. The heat though oppressive added to the sensual ambiance and Sandy soon began to drift away in her canlı bahis thoughts.
Sandy checked out the sailors immediately around her and couldn’t help but be stirred by the sight of their young strong chest muscles stretching the fabric of their summer issue T-shirts. Their arms were muscled and their faces youthful but masculine. Sandy could feel the heat and the tautness of their bodies, some of whom were pressed against her and some who stood within inches of her.
Sandy looked discreetly at the long white cotton navy pants and noticed the button down flies so traditional on naval uniforms. She unabashedly imagined what it might be like to unbutton one of those flies and to reach her hand in to fondle what she imagined was a hot and steamy erect penis. She visualized seeing the face of the young stud changing from initial shock to intense sexual excitement as she stroked his penis unobserved in the packed crowd. She imagined the heat and firmness of the penis as it pulsated in the palm of her closed fisted hand.
Sandy imagined further doing the same to the other four sailors pressed around her, and she smiled to herself at the naughty thoughts that only she was aware of. She also felt a little twinge of devilishness knowing that she had nothing on underneath her dress, and how these young bucks would react if they knew.
As she fantasized, Sandy thought about how aroused they would be at what she had done to them and she imagined that now they were pressing harder and rubbing themselves against her as the train moved. She imagined their hands pressing against the front of her dress, pushing against her vagina, and as she did, she began unobtrusively pressing herself against the support pole, squeezing her pussy up against it in the most discreet way she could. As she pressed, Sandy also slightly raised and lowered herself imperceptibly against the pole, but just enough to effectively stimulate her clitoris.
Sandy went on with this activity for some time, while her fertile imagination continued to create erotic fantasies. Her passion ignited, Sandy felt her juices flow. Her pussy was swollen and alive with sensitivity. Sandy tried hard to keep as “cool” a face on as she could, as she was on fire with excitement and she worried that the sailors around her would know if they looked at her. Sandy was sure she was flushed. Nevertheless, she kept fantasizing as her excitement grew ever more intense.
Suddenly and with a jolt, the train ground to a halt. The power went out and everyone found themselves pressed in the crowd in total darkness. This happens often on the subway so no one made a big deal about it, complaining some but just accepting it and hoping it would not be long before they would be on their way again. The fans were now off and the air was absolutely steamy.
Somehow this added immensely to the erotic aura for Sandy, as it matched her own sexual heat. Sandy decided to take advantage of the darkness. She reached to the front of her skirt, undid one button, slipped in her hand and began to fondle her swollen bahis siteleri clitoris. She stroked and teased it, running circular patterns across the top of it, and all the while her mind’s eye imagined that she was being felt and fondled by the young sailors.
While she was doing this, Sandy involuntarily began to sway ever so gently and ended up accidentally pressing herself against a young sailor behind her. To her surprise she felt him lean into her, and she could feel his penis through his pants, pressed against her buttocks. Sandy felt the penis becoming harder and larger as it pressed up even more firmly against her.
Sandy’s inhibitions faded in the darkness. She gave in to abandon, stroking herself first with the palm of her hand, and then with two fingers to an ever-nearing climax. She moaned imperceptibly (she thought), and as if in response, she felt a hand find its way into her skirt, pushing her own hand aside and finding her dripping hot pussy. The hand began to masturbate her.
Sandy’s first reaction was to want to pull away-after all she was a married woman-but her arousal and her sudden surrender to impulsivity left her wanting more. Besides it was dark and no one knew. Sandy pressed against the hand, grinding her wet pussy into it, enjoying the feeling and trying to discern in the darkness which of the sailors surrounding her was responsible. It was impossible to tell. It could have been any of the four or five sailors pushed up against her. She thought she could hear excited breathing but she couldn’t tell the direction it was coming from, as the heat was making everyone breathe more heavily than they normally would.
As she was being masturbated, Sandy focused on the sensations of the manly young bodies all around her, and she now imagined being made love to by all five of them. She breathed in the musky air and not sure whether she was imagining it or not, thought she could also discern the familiar but slight scent of aroused genitalia. A scent that was at the same time almost imperceptible yet undeniably present and erotic.
The air seemed to be filled with testosterone and pheromones, and it was raising Sandy’s excitement to peak levels. Sandy theorized that the sailor who was masturbating her was probably stroking himself in the darkness too, accounting for the aroma of turned-on musk. Or was it the odor of more than one sailor?
The hand in her skirt kept a steady and circular motion over Sandy’s clitoris working its magic, as her thoughts became more vivid and detailed. She imagined being penetrated by one of the sailors as the others fondled her body.
She fantasized the sensations of at once being entered by an anonymous young stud with his penis, and being kissed on the neck, behind the ears and on the lips, while her breasts were being stroked and squeezed by the others. She could feel the warmth of their breath as they kissed her in her imagination.
She imagined stroking the penises of these anonymous men and feeling their firm hot erections in each hand throbbing toward bahis şirketleri orgasm, as her own excitement grew closer to the brink. Sandy felt her body tightening as her passion grew. She felt her breathing becoming shallower and she started to feel weak in the knees, lowering herself even more firmly on the hand that was now masturbating her furiously. She knew the inevitable release was about to come, and she imagined being fucked with intensity and felt up by the sailors as the hand kept rubbing her wet pussy towards orgasm.
Sandy fantasized jerking off the others’ penises in the dark, and imagined their groans and sighs as they headed collectively towards their climaxes as she progressively increased the speed of her strokes. Finally the smell of musk, aftershave, the heat in the train, the press of the body against her back and the hand playing so effectively with her clitoris was too much for Sandy. Despite trying to hold back, she buckled to a shuddering orgasm that almost left her collapsing to the floor. The press of bodies tightly surrounding her and her hanging on to the support pole prevented that of course. Sandy breathed more softly now, trying to come back to normalcy.
As Sandy worked on regaining her composure, the power came back on as suddenly as it had shut off, and the train started up again, lurching into action. As it did, Sandy realized that she had had her eyes closed. She began to wonder if she had dreamed this experience. She looked around and the sailors were still joking and bantering with each other, clearly not mindful of Sandy. Sandy reached down and found that a button on her skirt was undone-the one she had thought she had slipped her hand into her skirt with, and the one used for entry by the mysterious hand. Her pussy felt warm, swollen and wet, so something had to have happened.
Had Sandy just fantasized or dreamed this experience? Had she just masturbated in the dark, and if so, would anyone have seen or known? Had it been a brief daydream in the darkness? Or was there a sailor close to Sandy who for a brief moment got to know her intimately under unusual circumstances. Again Sandy looked around at the faces adjacent to her, and realized that she would never know.
The sailors seemed not to take any notice of her. Sandy was left with a sense of puzzlement and slight embarrassment. Nonetheless, despite the heat, this was one subway train ride to Coney Island she would never forget. It was also going to be her little secret not to be shared with anyone. She certainly wasn’t about to tell her friend Cherie when they would soon meet at Coney Island. She would tell no one…well…except maybe her husband Dean. She could always arouse him with a good fantasy, and a good fantasy was always arousing to Sandy. And besides, who knew whether this one was or wasn’t a fantasy. Secretly Sandy hoped and felt it wasn’t.
Sandy disembarked from the subway car at the Coney Island station taking one last glance at the departing sailors, wondering which one may have masturbated her. Her mind was also filled with thoughts of what she would tell Dean tonight, and of the passionate sex that she knew would ensue. “Let the games begin,” she thought, and went cheerily to meet her friend Cherie for a fun-filled day.
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