Going through this subway after working late is always nerve-wracking, and tonight is no different. I spot someone else in the dull semi-illuminated underpass, heading towards me, but give a little sigh of relief as I realise it’s only a girl. Her facial expression is stern, but to me, alluring. I can’t stop myself smiling her way.
“What are you looking at?”
Her words stop me in my tracks. I try to reply but can’t find my voice.
“Rich boy in a posh suit gotta pay to look at me. And you gotta pay to go through this subway too.”
I mumble some kind of incoherent apology and turn to retrace my steps and choose the overpass. But I find my way blocked by another girl, young and attractive, but looking mean and moody in leggings and a denim jacket.
“Where you going?” And then to her friend, “He don’t wanna pay us!”
The first girl steps forward, closing the distance between us, so close I can smell her perfume. It’s intoxicating. I wonder how I smell to her; a heady cocktail of fear and arousal, probably.
“Give me your wallet, rich boy.”
She doesn’t raise her voice; she doesn’t need to. She whispers the words, purrs them, yet her tone is utterly commanding as it reverberates around the subway. I hand over the wallet, without a shred of resistance.
Her eyes widen in surprise at my instant capitulation. She adopts a wicked smile, but it’s not for me; she exchanges knowing looks with her friend. And it’s the friend who says, “Now get down on your knees!”
I do, berating myself for my surrender. Why am I doing this? I could have pushed past either of them and ran away. But I handed over my wallet and got on my knees simply because they told me to!
The humiliation and shame burns within me. To my surprise, and further shame, I find myself liking it: as I bow my head I see that my rock hard cock is pitching a massive tepee in the front of my suit trousers. My captors also notice.
“Ooh, rich boy likes being bossed about!” says the first girl.
“Dirty pervert,” sneers her friend, “We should cut it off!”
“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s put that thing to good use. Pants off rich boy, let’s see what you got!”
I hesitate momentarily, but the looks I receive compel me to obey. I take off my trousers and boxers, and my hardon springs free.
“Now lie down on your back, rich boy!”
I do, and my vision goes black. Something has been thrown over my face, and I only realise it’s the friend’s leggings when they’re removed, and I see her standing naked over me. My cock bobs, pulsing its appreciation, and the next thing I know the first girl has it hand. She squats down, lowering herself onto me and guiding me into her, while her friend makes herself comfortable sitting on my face.
She grinds herself against me; I’m already lapping and she seems to like it. I alternate between driving my tongue as deep as I can, and rapid-fire flicks over her sweet little nub. She tastes divine.
My sensations are heightened by the first girl riding my cock. She’s none too gentle, bouncing up and down like an Olympic trampolinist and slamming my naked backside into the pavement. I can feel it grazing and scratching my soft cheeks, but I don’t mind. The pain is lost amidst all the pleasure responses I’m experiencing.
I can only see ass and thighs, but I can hear what’s going on above me. The two girls are kissing, and playing with each other’s tits as they ride my face and cock. The sounds of their smooching and squelching drive me crazy; being so close but unable to see it is the most exquisite torture. And as the first girl picks up the pace she can sense that I’m ready to cum.
There’s another jolt of pleasure-pain as she digs her nails into my thigh. “Don’t cum yet, rich boy! If you do it’ll be your last time ever!”
They grind and writhe against me with ever greater vigour, each of them building so close to their own climax. I work my tongue furiously, thrust my hips, and fight to hold in my own eruption. The cries and moans of the two girls echo through the cavernous underpass, until finally, mercifully, the first girl reaches her glorious climax and allows mine.
“Cum now! Cum now, rich boy!”
And I do. It’s the most intense release I’ve ever had; spurt after incredible spurt, trying to throw my head back in ecstasy, sandwiched as it is between the cold hard pavement and the soft soaking pussy of the second girl as she screams her own rapturous orgasm.
And then there is stillness, and relative silence, save for our heavy breathing as we try to recover. I am wrecked, I am ruined, and I love it. I lie there, groggy and exhausted, dull ache in my head, burning sensation on my arse, still not quite sure whether I’ve been a victim or a willing participant.
I raise my head, and am rewarded by the sight of the two girls kissing and groping one another with reckless abandon and manic fervour. It seems their pleasure isn’t done yet, and maybe mine isn’t either, because somehow my just-emptied cock finds new life on seeing this, and begins to harden again.
“Oi, don’t watch us, you pervert!” shouts the second girl, “Get dressed, and fuck off!”
I do so, hesitantly, so disoriented that I’m not sure which way is home and which way is work. But as I start to leave, the first girl calls me back.
“Don’t forget this,” she says, handing back my wallet.
I stare at it, dumbstruck, and she answers the question in my eyes.
“Because we’re gonna mug you for it again, this time tomorrow.”