Fresh out of college, I was still a bit green and nervous. That morning, I specifically chose a new, ultra-short bodycon skirt. It clung tightly to my hips, which hadn’t yet lost their girlish curves, shamefully and unapologetically outlining the shape of my pussy and labia. Black lace thigh-high stockings stretched from the tops of my thighs to my ankles, wrapping around my legs. On my feet were my first-ever pair of red-soled stiletto heels, and with every step came the excitement and longing of a new life. My soles became damp from nervousness.
It was my first time walking side by side with Brother into a crowded subway car. People were flowing in, and the air was filled with a mix of smells. The coldness of metal, the dampness of concrete, the perfume and sweat of strangers, and the lingering scent of my own girlish body and fresh laundry.
I gripped the handrail tightly, my fingertips trembling slightly with nervousness and anticipation. The bodycon skirt was so short that every time I bent my knees, the hem would slide up to my thighs. The gossamer-thin black stockings rubbed against my inner thighs, creating a subtle warmth. My back was ramrod straight from standing and tension, and my heart pounded as if it would burst from my chest. My cheeks were so hot they felt like they would drip. The air was full of strangers, but all I cared about was the faint minty scent and familiar masculine presence of Brother behind me.
You stood behind me, your hand, with its burning warmth, gently resting on my waist through the smooth fabric of the skirt. With every sway of the subway, you would tighten your arm, pulling me softly into your embrace. My back was pressed against your chest, my nipples feeling the rhythm of your heartbeat through the thin tank top. That warmth and security relaxed every nerve in my body, yet this intimacy made me even more shy. My inner thighs and stockings under the skirt grew more and more sensitive from your palm and fingers. A warm liquid had already quietly flowed out of my pussy.
Your breath landed behind my ear, carrying a faint smile and a soft whisper: “Don’t be afraid, with Brother here, you don’t have to worry about anything today.” Your breath caressed my hair, a gentle yet ambiguous warmth that seeped into my heart through my earlobe, making my body go soft. I almost forgot I was in a crowded subway car, surrounded by the gazes of strangers. My fingers still trembled slightly, but I instinctively wanted to get a little closer to you. Every time the subway braked or accelerated, your hand would tighten on my waist. The temperature of my stockings-wrapped inner thighs grew even hotter, making me let out a soft “mm…” My calves were sore from the high heels, and with every step and shift of my weight, the heel would make a “clack” sound on the floor, like a rhythm played just for me.
My heartbeat seemed to resonate with the subway tracks, getting faster and faster. My thighs unconsciously clenched, the lace thigh-high stockings wrapped around my skin rubbing against my thighs and the back of my knees with every sway of the train. The edges of the black lace clung to my skin, while the area above my knees was completely bare, barely covered by the ultra-short skirt. With no panties on, my pussy and asshole were pressed directly against the air and the skirt’s fabric. With every heartbeat, it felt like my body was being pulled and tugged by the city’s desire.
My high heels tapped on the subway floor, the heels making a crisp “dada” sound. Every time my toes contracted and pushed, I felt a warm, wet sensation inside the shoe. It was from earlier in the taxi when Brother’s fingers, taking advantage of the privacy in the back seat, had quietly reached into my skirt, teasing my pussy entrance. Each poke had brought out a wave of sweet love juice. With no panties to block it, the fluid flowed directly from my pussy down my inner thighs. Some of it seeped into the stockings behind my knees, making my calves and the front of my lower legs wet and hot. The rest ran down my inner thighs, all the way into the opening of the high heel, soaking my insteps and toes.
Standing on the subway now, I could feel the residual love juice on my thighs, pussy, and the back of my knees. With every move, a mix of cold and hot liquid sensation slid down the skin of my thighs from under the skirt. The black stockings at my knees clung tighter and tighter. My toes inside the high heels would curl and straighten, and the insoles were already soaked with liquid. A subtle “squish” sound came from my feet when I stepped down, and the dampness kept rising.
Brother gently leaned against me from behind, his hand naturally wrapping around my waist. His body heat transferred through the bodycon skirt to my abdomen and inner thighs. He whispered in my ear, “Don’t be afraid, baby. With Brother here, you don’t have to worry about your skirt getting wet.” His low voice and breath on my earlobe made my whole body tremble slightly. My cheeks and ear tips became even hotter. My fingers shook with nervousness and shyness. I was gripping the handrail so tightly my knuckles were white, yet all I wanted was for you to get closer, to make me wetter, more sensitive, and more completely yours.
Every time the subway accelerated or decelerated, my pussy and asshole under the skirt would lightly rub against the air and the fabric due to inertia. Every single drop of body fluid left a trail down my thighs, black stockings, heels, and the floor. My body, in the rhythm of this city, seemed to be constantly flowing, convulsing, longing, and exposing itself just for you…