A-Trainin'

Wall-Street shifted against me in his seat...unaware that I was quite aware of his 'discomfort'....I glanced to the edge of my TIMES and saw that girlfriend was working her magic.... Stocks-n-Bonds had begun to rise....the 'market' was making a true 'upswing'....things were—should we say—'bullish'....and all this in my seat-mate's pants.... Yessssss...there was at least one 'bull' on Wall Street judging by the tent in daddi's trou....

Sweetheart did her best to 'stimulate' 'growth'.... I simply marveled at how much strain the material of a well-made suit can take...his greatest fortune at the moment—aside from the hard-on and the show that was producing it—was the fact that navy-blue pinstripe works quite well at hiding stains of all sorts—including precum, and I supposed, cum....

He shifted again on his seat...I played it off as if it was the motion of the train—I knew better.... I also needed to slide my rump slightly along the slick plastic of the New York conveyance—the real need to ease the stress on my thong....

It was then that girlfriend decided to wreck an 'economy' in a process of 'growth' that only seemed to be going up and up and up.... as if we were the only two other people in the car, she dropped a manicured hand to her bald, naked crotch....and just as Sam had said she would, she inserted three fingers up to the last knuckle without bending a knee...she thrust three, maybe four times, then shuddered....brought three cream coated digits out of her cunt and up to her mouth...and sucked....she must have felt the fleck of cream in the corner of that gorgeous mouth...a long, almost fuscia-colored tongue snaked out and lanced it from those perfectly lacquered, red lips....

At that moment, I knew I had to literally 'beat' 'inflation'....it didn't take much.... I dropped my hand coyly into Mr. Wall-Street's lap...found his raging and 'irrational exuberance'....and stroked three, four times through that very expensive worsted....that was all it took to bust that 'bubble'—on a train that carried a sizable percentage of New York's 'eight million' stories (more now, but who's counting)....Niobi would've been proud....