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The man sitting next to her had his cock out. Susan didn’t quite know what to do about it–he wasn’t leering at her, or even talking to her, but every time she glanced in his direction she could see it jutting out of his unzipped fly expectantly. It felt almost like it was… noticing her, somehow. Like even though the man was quietly reading the newspaper, his face completely hidden by the broadsheets, his cock could sense that she was there and it wanted her.

Susan knew how absurd that sounded, even in the privacy of her own head. But it felt true. She kept looking over at it, feeling the weight of those expectations in her mind like a physical force every time she saw it. It was really quite hard, she noticed. She could see every single vein, trace them with her eyes as they throbbed ever so slightly in the face of her attention. But… but that wasn’t even possible, surely? You couldn’t get hard and stay hard just from sitting next to a woman you weren’t even looking at. She looked back at her smartphone, trying to decide whether it was worth trying to find out something about it on the Internet, but her momentary indecision only ended with her stare sliding back to his cock.

It was so strange. The train was crowded, but nobody else seemed to notice that his stiff, pulsing cock was exposed for everyone to see. Everywhere she looked, she saw nothing but bored, disinterested faces, people off in their own private worlds. She glanced back over at the man next to her, just to make sure it wasn’t her imagination, but there it was. Big, long, thick, and so hard that the head was almost purple. She almost asked about it, but it felt like if she said something out loud now then she would be the crazy one.

She couldn’t stop watching it. It twitched and swayed with every bump on the track, little dribbles of precum leaking out of the tip and trickling down the shaft. It would be so slick and wet to the touch, she just knew it. Not that she was going to touch a stranger’s cock just because it was right there, just because it was only inches away and she could reach out her hand whenever she wanted and begin to stroke it up and down and up and down and… and that was something she wasn’t going to do. Because pulling your cock out wasn’t an invitation. Because playing with someone’s cock in public was, was rude, even if nobody seemed to notice his exposed genitals at all. Because…

Susan ran through the reasons again and again in her head like a litany, but the picture in her mind of reaching out, encircling the stranger’s cock with her fingers, and tugging on the slick flesh stayed with her. Every time she looked away, all she saw in her thoughts was the fantasy. It would feel so good in her hand, it would make him so happy. She glanced back again and again, just to make sure her body hadn’t decided to act on her daydreams without her realizing it. Then she looked away just as quickly, forcing herself to stop staring at the hard, hot cock in front of her before she lost the ability to figure out where her fantasy started and reality began.

But it looked so good. But she could smell the musk of his arousal, faint in the air-conditioned train. But nobody would notice. But, but… she looked over again, and her hand was only a fraction of an inch away from the stranger’s cock. She bit her lip in agonized indecision, desperate to resist the urge that kept getting stronger and stronger as she stared and stared…

Finally, with a helpless sigh, she put her hand around the stranger’s cock. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she began to stroke, his pleasure echoing in her head with every tug. “Good girl,” the man on the train said, not even lowering the newspaper. “Good girl.”

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