Mercy, ignoring the emotions his concern sent rushing through her, delicately stood up. She took a great amount of care stepping over Michael T. Cone's spilled coffee as she made her way into the aisle.
Walking to the opposite door that Michael T. Cone exited from, she opened the door leading to another train car. Looking over shoulder before exiting the train car, she winked at the handsome man with stony eyes, as if to thank him for her concern and she took her leave.
The train increased its speed, briskly soaring along its long iron tracks, jolting Mercy a bit as she entered the new train car. Before visually inspecting the open seating area for an available place to sit, her hand reached into her purse for her flask again, downing another sip before discovering there weren't any empty booths.
At first,Mercy wasn't interested in sharing a seat with anyone, preferring to be alone with herself to avoid another scene. Walking through the center aisle as if a sea of suits and pant skirts were magically parted before her, Mercy didn't notice a single man looking directly at her, although it wasn't hard for her to notice that all of them were slyly spying her magnificent legs as she pressed each of her heals against the floor of the car.
Spineless tools, Mercy thought, desperately desiring to find an isolated seat where she could curl up with her flask of whiskey and touch herself in peace.
Mercy made it a habit of looking through other women, enough that she no longer noticed their judgmental eyes, despite knowing that they all wanted the same freedom that men had as she did. The freedom to fuck a hard cock and walk away without caring to ask him his name, let alone his number. Still, that didn't stop any of them from condemning any woman who dare tried.
Tired of being sad, Mercy felt devoted to living out a life of pleasure.
Being beautiful, Mercy thought while still slowly strolling through the long train car, had its definite advantages. She stretched her legs out longer than she normally would with each stride, causing a row of men to nonchalantly place their hands over their faces to keep their chins from collapsing to their feet.
Mercy angled the line of her thin neck so her light brown eyes could pierce through the sea of gray garments, all of which were lazily draping the other passengers sitting in the train car, as if she was a bull plotting out its charge. Mercy was carefully trying to locate a quiet isolated spot to rub her tiny nipples and give her tan breasts a nice squeeze. That's the only thing that was on her mind.
Without having any luck with finding an empty seat, she peered over her shoulder noticing three men staring directly at her tight curvy bottom, and she briefly began wondering if any of the successful looking gentleman would ever think about giving her brain as much attention as they were giving her ass.
“Not one,” she quietly whispered to herself. “They'd want their cocks sucked for sure, but not one..” and she trailed off with a giggle upon realizing she was thinking out loud instead of quietly in her head.
Mercy's turned her head down ever so slightly, catching the eyes of a woman sitting a few feet away who was giving her a condescending look and Mercy instantly realized she'd most likely heard what she just said.
As Mercy took another step towards the woman she looked straight into her eyes and lipped the word “bitch,” without making a sound. Shock manifested on the woman's face as if she was in the initial stages of having a stroke, and she closed her tormented and judgmental eyes as Mercy continued walking past her.
Instead of perusing the train car any longer, Mercy decided to push on through to the next train car and look for an open seat there. Reaching the door connecting the train cars, Mercy slid it open and stepped through to the next car, as if doing so held the promise to a new beginning and smile slowly began forming over her face.
The new train car Mercy entered was sparsely populated and she immediately spotted a vacant booth on the other end of the train car located, in the open seating section. Walking towards it, the three sparkling gold bracelets dangling on her forearm lightly collided against one another making her sound like a wind chime, alerting every conscious man of her approach.
When she reached her seat, Mercy pulled her coat over her body and took another swig from her flask, and then immediately began running her soft fingers under her dark golden bra just as the whiskey began warming the blood flowing through her.
Rubbing the outside of her beautiful big breasts, Mercy lightly clamped two of her fingers around one of her nipples, as if she was trapping something precious with no intention of letting go. Turning her exquisitely shaped face towards the window, Mercy began rubbing her waxy pink pussy as gently as she could mange, curling her lips as she thought of the hard cock pressing against the fresh coffee stain in Michael T. Cone's dress pants.
Mercy found a great deal of satisfaction in knowing that such a powerful man was so easily turned on at the mere sight of the top of her beautiful round breasts.
Smooth sailing, the super fast bullet train continued coasting over the metallic tracks, casually shuffling her muscular round booty back and forth while she began to slowly ride the two stiffened fingers she began angling up inside of her.
Too caught up in what she was doing, it took Mercy a few moments before she recognized the gentleman in an expensive Italian suit standing in the aisle gazing at her. One of his hands was on the sliding door, as if he was about to pass through on to the next car, but seeing her face caught up in such elation forced him to stop dead in his tracks.
Mercy's eyes were closed, when the man first noticed her and as she slowly opened them up, there he was witnessing her trembling lips, and her legs begin quivering as if she was having a pleasurable seizure, her two determined fingers gently massaging her spot.
“Oh ggggggod,” Mercy sighed quietly out of complete physical satisfaction, calmly staring up into the eyes of the beautiful light brown haired man watching her from the aisle. The feeling felt too good to let anything, or anyone, rob Mercy of it.
Mercy was intrigued by his brazenness, wondering if he was worthy of her sexual desires or not. Under normal circumstances, finding a man staring at her while she was pleasing herself would creep her out, Mercy thought, but this was hardly normal circumstances.
Mercy was fairly sure the man knew what she was doing to herself under the concealment of her coat, and when she looked into his eyes again she realized she was right about her initial assumption. Neither of them said a word, but his eyes revealed that there was absolutely no mystery to him about what he'd just witnessed.
For a moment, Mercy stopped touching herself, looking back at the man with curiosity while he continued looking at her with his empty motionless face. Maybe he wants to watch me, Mercy continued thinking, maybe it's turning him on.
Before Mercy began touching herself again, she quickly thought about how she didn't need another guy who was only interested in pleasing himself, without any concern to helping her get off. She wanted a man who respected her enough to work towards her pleasure as well, and as handsome and successful as the mysterious man appeared at first glance, she hoped he was just the type of man she was looking for.
The two continued staring at each other, neither of them making a move or indicating what they desired from the other. Mercy, still quite tipsy from the disappearing contents within her flask, began slowly growing angry at the man for not doing anything but staring at her.
Is this guy just a perverted fucking prick, Mercy began wondering? Is he just another man who plays by his ridiculous man rules, a man would would fuck me and then proudly call me a slut while he walk away thinking he's some sort of stud, Mercy continued mentally questioning.
Mercy almost opened her mouth to tell him off, but instead moved her hand slightly, pulling out her flask and filled her mouth full of whiskey, a whiskey that no longer burned, and she swished it around in her mouth once and then promptly swallowed it down in a single gulp.
Tilting her head slightly, Mercy noticed the man's brow begin to moisten.
