Stories From The 6 Train

by Alexis Angel

  I shiver as I feel him tracing the contour of my small thong, his finger slowly moving across my buttock. He’s moving slowly, seductively, but he’s like a coiled spring—ready to burst at any time. And that’s exactly what happens. Without any warning, he breathes out sharply against my neck and, abruptly grabbing my pants and underwear at the same time, he pushes them down my legs and to my knees. I half expect him to smack me across the buttocks, but that’s not what he does. Instead, he pulls back and goes down to his knees, the palm of his hands resting against the curve of my ass.

  He spreads my cheeks apart and then squeezes them hard, my body leaning further against the stretcher. Then, spreading his fingers, he pushes my buttocks up, making me go on tiptoes; before I can even process what’s happening, he lunges at me, burying his face between my thighs and under my ass. A slight moan leaves my lips as he presses his mouth against my pussy, hurriedly sucking on my folds as I become wetter than ever.

  I let my head down, my forehead pressed against the thin mattress as I choke down a moan, biting hard on the sheets. He keeps devouring me, not caring if I moan or if I don’t. He’s fearless, not a single worry on his mind. To be honest, the more he keeps sucking my pussy, the less I worry about being caught. It just seems so unimportant right now. What does it all matter when my body is burning with pleasure, the most perfect man I have ever met savoring me?

  Not only does he know how to handle his long thick member, he sure knows how to drive a woman completely insane with just his mouth. Jabbing with his tongue, he parts my pussy and slides his finger inside of me, viciously licking me as I picture my juices dripping down his chin.

  “Oh, God…” I mutter, my hands curled tight around the bars on the stretcher. I’m grabbing them so tightly my knuckles have turned white, all my muscles tensing up as I succumb to his mouth. The sheets between my teeth, I manage to stop myself from screaming, my body shaking as I come violently. Even so, a throaty moan makes itself heard, luckily muffled by the mattress. Careless as he is, I still expected him to ease up, knowing that the guard is waiting for him right on the other side of the door. Of course, I should know him better by now: instead of slowing down, he goes even harder, sucking and licking in a vicious chain of perfectly matched movements.

  My muscles are still twitching when he places one arm around my waist, his hand going down to between my legs and searching for my clitoris. The moment his fingers find it, all hell breaks loose inside of me. I come again, just seconds after my first orgasm, and this time I have to bite my own forearm in order not to scream. I don’t even feel a thing, pleasure obfuscating everything but that mind numbing delight that rages through my veins. My eyes shut tight; I feel a tear falling down my face. This is actually the first time in my life this has happened, crying from ecstasy.

  Lucien pulls back from me then, and I fight past the weakness in my muscles to look over my shoulder at him. He goes up to his feet slowly, my juices glistening on his chin. Looking at me with burning intent, he wipes my fluids from his face with the back of his hand, and then pushes my shirt up my arms. I hold my breath as he unclasps my bra and then takes it off of me, my hard nipples aching to feel his touch. Almost as if he could read my mind, he squeezes both my tits hard, pinching my nipples between his fingers and pulling on them until I have to focus again in order to remain quiet.

  “You really want to scream, don’t you?” he asks me, leaning into me and pinching harder. I can’t even speak right now, so I just nod. “No, this is nothing. Let me make you really want to scream.”

  With that, he grabs his cock and presses it between my legs, brushing it against my folds. I thrust back by instinct, wanting to feel him inside of me at once, but he keeps still, ignoring the urgency in my movement. He lets his hands go down my legs and, grabbing them just under my knees, he forces me up onto the stretcher. I let him lift my body up, my knees resting over the mattress as I go on all fours. With his arm around my waist, he pulls, angling my body so that his cock is once again right where it belongs: on my pussy.

  This time, he doesn’t tease or torture me. He simply thrusts, his shaft piercing me and making thunder and lightning explode inside of me.

  Be quiet, be quiet, I ask of myself, repeating the words over and over again inside my head, almost like a prayer. Somehow, I manage to do it, my teeth gritted as Lucien starts to thrust. Each time his cock goes deep inside of me I see fireworks behind my eyelids, my body a time bomb ready to go off against at any minute.

  He grabs my hair with one hand, turning his wrist around and curling my locks around his fingers, and then yanks my head back. My back arches as he pulls on me, his thighs slapping my ass over and over again. With his free hands, he grabs my ass, squeezing viciously on my flesh with his spread fingers. His thumbs rest close to my crack, the pressure of it around my rosebud almost too much to bear. Maybe he realizes the way his touch is driving me crazy, since he moves his hand over my ass, his thumb dangerously drawing close to my rosebud.

  Who knew that I’d end up like this, on all fours on top of a stretcher while an inmate fucks me roughly? I didn’t, not by a long shot. But somehow, here we are, Lucien's cock demolishing my pussy and taking control over all of my senses. It’s unfair; why did he show up in my life like this? Why couldn’t we have met in a bar? Why couldn’t he be a regular man? I know I don’t like answering my own questions, but I have an answer to this one—if Lucien was a regular man it just wouldn’t be the same. It’s his dark aura of violence and coiled power that draws me in, and the kindness I know lies deep inside of him seals the deal for me. I have no illusions; I know he’s no saint, but he also isn’t the devil the police and the courts painted him as. Call me naive, but I believe him. Of course, I might be slightly biased, since I’m falling for him. Yes, I said it. I’m falling for Lucien. And right now, our bodies acting as one, that feeling is becoming stronger than ever.

  I breathe out deeply, a weak moan leaving my mouth as he thrusts deep inside me. I’m close, so close that I can almost taste ecstasy on my tongue. He knows that and, deciding to make my body burst with pleasure, he presses the tip of his thumb against my rosebud. The instant he does it, I explode, my pussy tightening around his shaft like a vice while my arms grow weak and I go down to my elbows. I remain frozen in place like that, my nipples burning as electricity runs through every single nerve ending in my body.

  Lucien slides out me slowly, and I collapse on top of the mattress, my body too spent to carry on. Oh, what am I saying? It doesn’t matter if I’m exhausted. My time with Lucien is as limited as it gets, and I refuse to let it go to waste.

  Something takes hold of me and I turn on my heels and, with cat like movements, I place my hands on Lucien's shoulders and push him back. I pressure his shoulders, forcing him to go down; he obliges, lowering his body and going down to his knees. The moment he’s there I push him, laying him across the floor, and climb on top. He grabs my ass immediately, cupping my cheeks as I sit across his thighs; with one hand I grab his cock, pointing it upward. Breathing as slowly as I can, I ease myself down, his cock sliding inside of me once more. It pierces me to the hilt, his glans pressed hard against my insides.

  I lean forward, my hair falling down my shoulders as I stare into his eyes. Unblinking, I start to rock my body, swaying my hips over his cock under the guidance of his hands.

  “I wish we could stay here forever,” I tell him, my heart suddenly feeling tight inside my chest. It doesn’t matter how I feel toward him, ours is a forbidden romance. Sure, it might get the adrenaline flowing, but what about the future? What about when I’m alone in my bed, my body crying out for him? He places his hand on my cheek, a gentle smile on his lips, and my heart starts to melt.

  “Me too, Kerri,” he simply says, the words as genuine as they could ever be. Raising his head, he reaches for my mouth, softly pressing his lips against mine. We kiss softly, our touch electric but gentle. This is Lucien. He can be rough and dominant, and the next very moment he turns
into the sweetest man. His lips on mine, I feel all anxieties about the future melting away, and my mind gets back on track, focused only on what’s happening right now.

  I close my eyes, my body swaying softly as he thrusts slightly, his cock moving in and out of me at a gentle pace. We go on like that for seconds, minutes, hours—I don’t know and I don’t care. Here with him I’m lost and, at the same time, I’m found. Time is unimportant.

  Our rhythm grows into a crescendo, my hips moving eagerly against his as I feel that familiar fire burning inside of me. With one hand on my ass and the other grabbing my right breast, he rocks his body against mine, his movements matching my own. For a change, I’m the one leading the charge right now, but I hold no illusions: I’m only leading because he’s allowing me to do it. True to his nature, he doesn’t allow that to last.

  One arm around my lower back, he hooks his fingers on my waist and, with a sudden movement, rolls me to the side. In the blink of an eye he’s on top of me, my back flattening against the floor.

  His cock never leaves my pussy and, as soon he settles into position, he starts to thrust again. I part my legs as wide as I can, willing him to go as deep as possible. Crossing them over his lower back, I pull into him, urging him to go faster and faster.

  Ravaging me in abandonment, Lucien starts to kiss me, his hungry lips on mine. I open my mouth, my tongue pushing against his in a frenzied dance of lust. I place my hand behind his head, grabbing a handful of his hair as our bodies mesh into one another.

  He never eases the pace, relentlessly ramming his cock into me until all my sense of self begins to dilute. I feel my pussy starting to contract and, before I can prepare for it, I’m coming. My legs become tense, hooking him in and not allowing him to move as I bury my fingernails on his back, harshly enough to draw blood.

  “Oh God,” I moan in a hushed tone, throwing my head back as I try and catch my breath. But, once again, he doesn’t allow any time for breaks: still without pulling his cock out, he places his hands under my knees and raises my legs, placing them over his shoulders as he goes to his knees. I shut my eyes and grit my teeth, panting as I feel his cock sliding one more wonderful inch deep into me. He leans into me then, pushing my legs as his shoulders move toward mine; I go as far as I can, my ass lifting from the floor as my legs bend awkwardly over my own body. His cock sheathed, he starts to trust, pumping his cock into me with maddening precision. “Oh, Lucien… Oh,” I moan, still unable to open my eyes as lava rages through my veins, scorching everything in its way.

  “Shh,” he whispers, hushing me as keeps thrusting, his cock, pistoning into me at a perfect tempo. He brushes his finger against my lips and, guided by the sinful cravings inside of me, I just open my mouth and let it in, sucking hard and still feeling the flavor of my own juices there.

  “I’m going to…” I start, but the words die in my throat as my limbs start to thrash, my whole body convulsing as if the connection to my brain simply disappeared. I come again, my lungs working overtime as I try to breathe deeply, every single muscle in my body feeling as if it had been stepped on. I’m spent, exhausted. I can’t speak or think and, even though I open my eyes, I see nothing but white. Pleasure has me in a trance, and I’m mute and blind. The only thing my overworked brain can still process is his touch. The moment he starts to slide his cock out of me, I shudder violently, a shiver climbing up my spine.

  I force my eyes open and stare into his, my chest rising and falling at a more steady pace now. Propping myself up on my elbows, I sit up, my fluids dripping down my thighs. Acting as if it had a mind of its own, my hands reach for him. I wrap one around his cock, using the other to cup his balls. I start to stroke him, my eyes never leaving his as I flick my wrist, my fingers curled tight around his shaft.

  “I want your mouth,” he whispers, a grin on his face. I don’t even think about it; I just learn forward and part my lips, sliding them over his glans and all the way down. As I reach the base, I go back up, moving my neck back and forth as I suck on him hard. Every time I reach his tip I stop for a few seconds, twisting my tongue on his glans and lapping at it before going down again. Not a minute after I started, he places his hands on my head, forcing me to go faster. My mouth is flying over his shaft, all of my movements nothing more than a blur. He’s breathing hard, his fingers like claws inside my hair, but I don’t stop. I keep going, pushing past my exhaustion until I have him dangling over the edge.

  His cock spasms once, and I slide my mouth all the way up to his glans. It spasms again and I roll my lips out, slowly sucking as his cock pops out of my mouth. A wide smile on my face, I start to stroke him as hard as I can, moving my whole arm as I go up and down his cock. The third time he spasms, his cock shoots a thick rope of cum in my direction, his semen flying in an arch and hitting me straight in the chest. I don’t stop moving my hand, his semen completely covering my breasts and dripping down my stomach. He’s still spasming when I feel strands of his sliding down from my chest to between my thighs, blending in my own wetness.

  Wanting to taste him, I angle his cock upward and open my mouth, sticking out my tongue. In a heartbeat he coats my tongue, the flavor of his warm semen making my mind buzz with delight. I wait until I feel my mouth brimming with his cum and, as soon as his cock stops spasming, I smack my lips and swallow, my eyes never leaving his.

  “Good girl,” he says, smiling while he reaches for my lips with his thumb and wipes off a stray drop of cum. Slowly, I peel my fingers off his cock, the last strands of semen still dripping down his shaft.

  “This… was amazing,” I mutter, my body still alight with pleasure.

  “No,” he replies, that kind smile of his dancing on his lips. “It was perfect. It always is with you.”

  Lucien Stone, where have you been all of my life?

  Lucien

  You know, my life has been pretty fucking shitty so far, but for the longest time if you’d have asked me, I wouldn’t have given a fuck.

  Not so, anymore, amigo. I’ve got a fucking purpose now all of a sudden.

  Sure, I’m still a fucking inmate. I’m broke, fucked up because of a life sentence for a crime I didn’t commit, and constantly on the lookout for anyone who might want to try and make himself a rep by stabbing me with a home made shiv.

  But aside from all that, I’ve got purpose and determination. I know what I need to do.

  You probably already know why, but let me spell it out for you just in case you need to understand one last time.

  Kerri Curtis. The fucking light of my life.

  Am I falling in love with her? I don’t know, man. But I will tell you this. Three weeks ago, if you'd have asked me that question, I would've either laughed at you or hit you in the fucking nose depending on who you were and where you were asking. But now? Now…I’m just going to shrug it off and tell you I don’t know the answer to that question.

  It’s not just the sex, either, if that’s what you’re thinking. Sure it feels unreal fucking Kerri and sure she’s got the body of a fucking angel that gets my cock so big and fucking hard that it ends up with its own heartbeat.

  But that’s not the only reason I’m falling in love with her. I know that for sure.

  The way she looks at me when I’m inside of her. When she can’t talk. When she can’t breathe. When she’s gasping for air. In the throes of her fucking orgasm. The way she makes herself vulnerable. After everything she’s been through. It takes a lot of fucking courage to let yourself be vulnerable like that. I could never do that.

  The way she makes me feel calm. At peace. Like the world isn’t such a shitty place that chews you up and fucks you before tossing you out like fucking trash. Like there’s a little bit of hope left. A little bit of goodness left in people that hasn’t been trampled and stamped out by cruelty and malice.

  She makes me want to be a better man, even in here. She makes me feel regret that I had to meet her in here. That I couldn’t have met her on the outside.

  But I
need to fucking snap out of it. I'm inside. There’s no denying that fact. And no amount of fucking daydreaming and happiness is going to change that.

  The best I can do is protect her from what she doesn’t understand. What I hope she’ll never have to understand.

  The only way I can do that is to become the one thing that scares her. An inmate. A criminal.

  Yeah, pretty fucked up, right? Ain’t got no fucking other option in this joint, babe. No other way.

  At least that’s what I tell myself as I walk up to where Grinder is standing in the prison yard. He’s talking animatedly to Spider. Three other people stand around him. All mob guys, all part of the same gang I used to be in. Shaved heads. Tattoos up and down their arms. I know a few of them. The tall, fat guy—his name’s Earl. The skinnier dude with the close-cropped blonde hair, that’s Slim. And the short guy with the big ears and weasel-like face is called, you guessed it—Weasel.

  That leaves Spider and Grinder.

  Grinder has his name because he’s built like a fucking truck. His arms are the size of steel beams and he’s got a barrel chest that's deep like a tree trunk. He’s bald, and has jail tattoos all the way up his body, neck, and face. And his face. Jesus fucking Christ. It’s contorted in a twisted approximation of evil. His eyes are dark brown, basically black. And they turn toward me, his entire muscular frame moving as he sees me walk up to him.

  No one really walks up to groups like this in prison. Not unless they have a wish to get hurt.

  But me? I couldn’t give a fuck what people did. I have a mission today. And it's fucking important that I carry this shit out.

  The circle of men opens up to face me as I take the last few steps. It’s all in now. No turning around and going back. No pretending that this was all just a mistake.

  I take my last step and look at Grinder. He’s quiet, looking at me as well. Studying me. I turn my glance to Spider.