A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night Redux

As a Muslim woman its easy to be dismissed as a nonsexual being...but we all know better than that don't we? I outwardly know how I come across hijab, covered up and...nice? As an-English-teacher and Muslim women alike, I hate that word. Being nice is just....exactly that...nice. No thrills all blouse.

So my go to thing recently is to sit on the tube on the way home and catch eyes with complete strangers...mostly white dudes with sad eyes the Paul Ready/Luke Kirby/Anders Danielsen Lie of the world....men who work in the city but listen to Charles Mingus & Interpol and read books about careers they secretly covet...who doesn't want to make documentaries about cults or be an urban farmer?

So I daydream about sitting next to him and our thighs touching accidentally on purpose. Despite us both looking at each other in turns, catching eyes, he does not have the bravery to hold eye contact, because it is me, so he is breaking it and blushing. Him getting up as I do as well to get off the train and him bumping into me, I can feel his hard one and I am quickly moving away from him. He follows me, all the way to my flat without either of us speaking. Leaving the door ajar, him following hesitantly and sitting on my sofa looking at me as I take off my coat, shoes and hijab and letting my hair out of my tight bun and massaging my scalp, he takes over and kisses my neck and my lips. He is being hesitant and worried but also very turned on and every time I try to break kissing him, he pulls me back into it and takes my clothes off in increments as I do the same. He sits me on the sofa and kneels on the floor, goes down on me, he is pulling my hand off my mouth to hear me. He gets on the sofa and he is sitting me on top of his cock and we are fucking and kissing and cumming.........