Chapter 1

He knew he was late, or close to it, but should be on time to catch the subway to make up for lost time, since his bicycle had gotten a flat tire—his precious fixed gear. The bike slung over his shoulder, dashed up to the elevated platform. There was one right there! He didn’t need to go far, just far enough, there was a bike shop somewhere, a quick fix and he wouldn’t be too late. The fare paid, a sigh of relief quickly turned to disappointment when the train pulled away. A thought ran across his mind to fling his bike at the passing cars out of protest for it’s audacity to pull away on time. Quickly dismissed under pretense that an additional something to fix on the bike wasn’t worth the risk. With resolve, he simply waited for the next one, with also little choice to do so. A quick text to inform he would be late, and will get there as quick as he can.

He’s your typical—although some would say atypical—young alt black man. He stood there with black Vans Sk8-Hi high tops, long pizza print socks, black wide-legged cargo jeans cut just under the knee, a ratty vintage Marlboro tee shirt, and his prizes battle vest, spiked bracelet, fishnet sleeve, fingerless hard knuckle gloves, dreadlocks restrained with a red bandana. Not too much longer the next train arrived Great luck as it was the perfect one to gain him the edge he needed. Finally, he thought, with his bike in the designated area, he found a seat, places his messenger pack on his lap, and just listened to his music as the train sped along the tracks.

The car was mildly crowded, he looked around, bopping his head to Silversun Pickups and noticed a woman sitting across from him, she was reading a book with headphones on. Wanted to inspect further, he pulled out his phone as s decoy. She was close to his skin tone, knee high black Converse All Stars with purple laces, plaid purple skirt, what looked to be a white spaghetti strap shirt nearly blocked by her book. She wore a few dangle bracelets on one arm. She had bleached twisted dreads, just past her shoulders. He couldn’t take his eyes from her.

She felt like somebody was watching her, it felt predatory, glanced up to see the other side minded its business, back to her book. After a few moments, the feeling just didn’t go away so she repositioned herself. He paid heed not to get caught, as it appeared she was getting restless. Just quick glances, he thought, don’t get caught. When she seemed settled, he took a look just too long and found narrowed eyes and slightly furrowed brow looking back at him. Caught. He couldn’t look away, so he gave her a friendly smile.

She went back to her book, but took a cautionary glance to find he still watched. A short breath puffed het cheeks, she stared back with an eyebrow raised and lowered her book. He saw her ample chest and smiled again. Her shirt had the name of a local bike shop on it. She clucked her tongue and looked down, he just watched, she repeated with a slight nod and tugged at her skirt. That got his attention. She licked her lips and slowly spread her legs open, checked to see if it was clear and eased it up more until she was sure her red underwear were displayed—confirmed when his smile faded, mouth hung slightly open. She reached down and he leaned forward just slightly. Their eyes met again until he noticed her fingers tug at the material. He watched intently when she pulled her underwear to the side, revealing her uncut cock resting there. His mouth dropped open, she gave him a smirk with a quick nod, back in her book.