Bray Array - The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 19

Closing the lid of her flask, she went back to touching herself, ignoring the man sitting next to her, despite slowly moving her other hand towards his leg until it was only a centimeter from him. I should run my finger nails up his leg, Mercy thought, he'd be all over me then I bet. I should run them straight up his crotch and wrap them around his man parts, forcing every drop of his blood rushing towards it.

Tilting her head down, she gazed at the sheer array of colors painting her dress. The beauty of it turned her on even more, and her fingers began gently whisking against her pink pussy lips.

My dress alone should be enough to make any man hard , Mercy continued thinking, while slyly peering out the corner of her eye, noticing the man next to her blatantly staring at her partially exposed breasts, unaware of what she was discreetly doing under the coat she cleverly draped herself in for the modicum of privacy it provided.

The excitement of the moment, however, sent shivers of electricity up and down her spine, energizing her fingers like never before. At only twenty-six years old, Mercy usually felt decades older with the sheer amount of responsibility her professional life burdened her with, but as she began pressing the tip of her middle finger into her pink hole, she finally felt her age again.

I should be on every man's short list of who he wants to fuck , she began thinking becoming more and more aroused as she did.

Men should be killing each other to eat me out every night, especially with as fit as I keep myself , she continued thinking.

With her free hand still resting next to the gentleman's leg, his perverted eye's burning a hole in her chest, she could tell how bad he wanted to pluck her nipples with his firm fingers. She knew how desperate he was to play with her breasts, his arousal beginning to show in the bulge growing in his pants.

As Mercy continued subtly watching the man's facial expression grow more and more intense, she could tell he wanted to throw his face under her colorful dress and cup her pussy in his mouth.

Mercy continued circling her sensitive clit with the tips of her two fingers, but as the excitement grew she pushed them both into her moist pink hole and couldn't stop herself from letting out an airy sigh of satisfaction, loud enough that the man sitting next to her was sure to recognize what she was so excited about.

Mercy was aware that her light outburst probably wasn't heard by anyone other than the man sitting next to her, but she was sure the man sitting next to her heard it as he proudly smiled with great joy at his discovery.

In response, Mercy moved her free hand intentionally across the top of the man's thigh, skipping her fingers to his crotch as she softly squeezed his stiff penis as if she was giving it a handshake. Feeling his balls throb against her finger tips, she pushed her two fingers back into her insatiable pink pussy, as deep as they'd go.

“That's it bitch,” the man's silky voice quietly let out, before releasing a moan as Mercy squeezed his dick hard before quickly recoiling it, causing the man to pop up on to his feet like a rocket, as his steaming coffee splashed down across his blood filled genitals, while the cup crashed down atop his expensive shoes.

“Serves you right, pervert!” Mercy shouted. “Now don't try touching me again, asshole!” Mercy yelled even louder, angry at the man for calling her a 'bitch' so brazenly, finding enough satisfaction in his coffee covered cock to smile with joy, while commanding him to “find another seat,” ordering him around like a new employee back in her office.

His crotch was soaking wet. As he walked back into the aisle, his hard erect penis was visible through his thin dress pants to every onlooker, his manliness falling under the scrutiny of every judging eye, all of which convicting him of being guilty as a sexual predator before he exited the train car in dishonor.

“Wasn't that Michael T. Cone?” A woman's voice piped up.

“Who?” a man's voice asked.

“You know, the property tycoon,” the woman answered.

“Yeah it was!” a different person said, amidst a large number of people grunting and making noises people make when they disapprove of something.

“Well, I don't give a shit how much property that asshole owns,” a man stood up, “he doesn't own people!” The handsome man, stoically stood while shaking his head in disbelief, and with his strong chin directed towards her, his stony eyes filled with concern made contact with hers where he lipped her a question through his crooked grin, “are you okay?”

Mercy, ignoring the emotions his concern sent rushing through her, delicately stood up. She took a great amount of care stepping over Michael T. Cone's spilled coffee as she made her way into the aisle.

Walking to the opposite door that Michael T. Cone exited from, she opened the door leading to another train car. Looking over shoulder before exiting the train car, she winked at the handsome man with stony eyes, as if to thank him for her concern and she took her leave.

The train increased its speed, briskly soaring along its long iron tracks, jolting Mercy a bit as she entered the new train car. Before visually inspecting the open seating area for an available place to sit, her hand reached into her purse for her flask again, downing another sip before discovering there weren't any empty booths.

At first,Mercy wasn't interested in sharing a seat with anyone, preferring to be alone with herself to avoid another scene. Walking through the center aisle as if a sea of suits and pant skirts were magically parted before her, Mercy didn't notice a single man looking directly at her, although it wasn't hard for her to notice that all of them were slyly spying her magnificent legs as she pressed each of her heals against the floor of the car.

Spineless tools, Mercy thought, desperately desiring to find an isolated seat where she could curl up with her flask of whiskey and touch herself in peace.

Mercy made it a habit of looking through other women, enough that she no longer noticed their judgmental eyes, despite knowing that they all wanted the same freedom that men had as she did. The freedom to fuck a hard cock and walk away without caring to ask him his name, let alone his number. Still, that didn't stop any of them from condemning any woman who dare tried.

Tired of being sad, Mercy felt devoted to living out a life of pleasure. I have to try it at least, Mercy thought to herself, as a tiny smile broke free from the corner of her perfect mouth, excited that she might finally find a sliver of happiness in this male dominated world.

Being beautiful, Mercy thought while still slowly strolling through the long train car, had its definite advantages. She stretched her legs out longer than she normally would with each stride, causing a row of men to nonchalantly place their hands over their faces to keep their chins from collapsing to their feet.

Mercy angled the line of her thin neck so her light brown eyes could pierce through the sea of gray garments, all of which were lazily draping the other passengers sitting in the train car, as if she was a bull plotting out its charge. Mercy was carefully trying to locate a quiet isolated spot to rub her tiny nipples and give her tan breasts a nice squeeze. That's the only thing that was on her mind.

Without having any luck with finding an empty seat, she peered over her shoulder noticing three men staring directly at her tight curvy bottom, and she briefly began wondering if any of the successful looking gentleman would ever think about giving her brain as much attention as they were giving her ass.

“Not one,” she quietly whispered to herself. “They'd want their cocks sucked for sure, but not one..” and she trailed off with a giggle upon realizing she was thinking out loud instead of quietly in her head.