The Cheeky Shag: Subway Cars & Handcuffs
By Baylee McKeel
I never thought when I sat down on the barren subway car that the person sitting a few seats down from me would be slapping a pair of handcuffs on me only a few hours later. It had just hit midnight but the subway was empty and I looked good. I was wearing black tights that hugged curves and a low cut top that exposed them. The air was chilly calling for my leather jacket, a touch that complimented my resting bitch face very nicely. I noticed him slide over the subway seats separating us and habitually decided to ignore him.
Then I saw him.
He had short wavy blonde hair with a touch of brown at the base and striking golden green eyes topped with better eyelashes than I could ever hope to achieve. His face had just the right amount of stubble that traced his jaw and I could almost feel how it would tingle against the cheek or inner thigh. He took me looking at him as a green light and began the normal small talk, where are you from, what do you do, what about this weather; I played along. When we got off at the same stop, I hesitated at first but quickly decided that he might just live close enough to be a regular fuck. We turned the corner from the subway stop and three blocks later were at his front door. I knew the decision I was making right then and there.If I go in, am I fucking this stranger I’ve known for a total of twenty minutes?
Why the hell not.
We were in his room for about ten seconds, grabbing at each other, undressing each other, and clumsily bumping into walls and furniture, before I mentioned handcuffs.
If only he had a pair. Of course, he did.
His headboard was perfect for them too, allowing just enough wiggle room to both enticingly tease and restrict. We were both down to bare essentials at this point, him in his boxers, me in my bra and panties. Luckily I had felt like matching that night and dawned my new strapless silk set. He got on top, arms flexing on either side of me, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him. Bending down to kiss me he reached behind my back, unclasping my bra and smirking as he lifted back up. He traced his fingers down my stomach, fingering the line of my panties, jumping to my thighs and following the seam of the silk.
Suddenly, he stopped.
He left me on the bed and walked over to the closet, grabbing the handcuff keys. Sauntering back over, he leaned down close to me, dropped the keys on my chest, and whispered “let yourself out, and call me tomorrow”.