Beatriz approached the edge of the platform, crossing the yellow line. There were not many people in the station, but she knew that the subway would be full of what she had collected on her journey. Somehow, she also knew that trying to gain a better position to enter the car was almost absurd, she would go like a sardine once inside anyway. However, it was chat de sexcam gratis something he couldn't avoid and he wasn't going to resist his winning instinct.
Feeling the sound of the train approaching, he bent his body forward and stuck his head out on the rails; at the end of the tunnel came the subway. He straightened and as the train stopped he tried to get a shot at a door which had the perfect conditions.
The perfect conditions were basically a space to stand between the glass door and some woman. That way he was sure not to have a man behind him who, besides smelling bad late in the summer, could take advantage free live sex cam xxx of the pressure.
A perfect door opened in front of her face and she entered.
Beatriz was wearing a long white cotton dress held up by two thin straps. Her hair was tied in a casual knot behind her head, pierced by a black wooden chopstick, leaving her high neck uncovered, over which some strands fell unsupported by the tie. She carried only a small purse which she always held with both hands in front of her.
As he entered he managed to take a couple of steps before coming face to face with a young woman in an executive suit. Then she turned around as the doors closed so that she was almost stuck to them. He would have a safe journey.
The interchange station was six stops away and he knew that until then no one would get off the car. And by sticking to the door he would give the false impression that no one could get in any more.
At the first stop his theory proved to be infallible. No one got in. No one got out.
The second stop was a blow to the chair. Almost as he stopped, he noticed people forcibly settling down in a clear sign that someone was approaching the door. The woman webcam sex big tits behind him was gently pushed over Beatriz's body.
"Excuse me, I was pushed."
Although he could not turn around completely, he outlined a smile of acceptance that must have been noticed by his neighbor.
"It's okay, don't worry."
The woman had been completely stuck to Beatrice's back.
The train stopped and through the door a schoolboy with a huge green rucksack came down with difficulty.
"What bad taste..." Beatriz murmured and felt her protector laugh at the comment. The casual complicity made Beatriz respond with another smile, again giving the profile.
The train left again. But the woman did not return to her place, she remained stuck to Beatriz. I could feel the woman's thighs on either side of her left leg and her slow breathing bouncing off the same shoulder.
Beatriz was paralyzed.
At first she thought of turning around and facing her, but as she did so, the woman spoke:
"Please excuse me if I'm squeezing you too hard, but over here it looks like someone has settled in. I swear they're pushing me too... subway stuff, right?"
Beatriz didn't know what to say. She didn't find the explanation entirely convincing, but neither would she run the risk of becoming an desnudos de la cámara sexual gratis hysteric. Maybe it was true. Besides, the woman had a kind and somehow reliable tone.
"Yeah, subway stuff..." she replied resignedly.
After leaving the third station and without any change of positions, Beatriz began to relax. She could sense that the woman was about her height and rather thin, depending on her legs that still wrapped around one of hers. Out of the corner of her eye she had noticed that she had long, black, wavy hair.
The closeness was such that he could even feel the pressure of her breasts on his back.
"Silicone?" she thought amused and couldn't stop smiling at her witticism.
"No natural breast is so hard" and she smiled again.
But then the woman made a move that changed the color of things. Delicately she opened the jacket she was wearing over a diaphanous blouse and Beatriz could then clearly feel the presence of two hard nipples that marked her.
Her pulse shot up. A strong electric current ran through her from head to toe. Her pupils dilated and she began to breathe through her mouth. She was in shock.
The woman then, disguised by the swaying of the car, began to move her breasts in a circular motion over Beatriz. Her nipples were two drops dancing an almost imperceptible and controlled slow dance.
There was no doubt about it. She was being harassed.
Beatriz stuck as much as she could to the glass in the door, but the cold glass only hardened her own nipples. Although the stiffness was of a different origin, the coincidence seemed too intimate to her. Her physical and mental condition presented itself unexpectedly in her mind with one word: Morbidity.
The ordained Beatriz was in the middle of a situation of unquestionable morbidity. And that was definitely new.
Perhaps that novelty, added to the impossibility of leaving the situation with logic and dignity, made that Beatriz did not leave the car when arriving at the fourth station.
"Two more stations and it's all over."
When the train was running again, the woman continued with her undercover caress. Beatriz had already separated from the icy glass of the door, but her nipples were still erect. So much so that the contact of these with the cotton of her dress became an chat de la cámara pornográfica unobjectionable sensation of pleasure.
"The fucking glass" she thought, trying to project her increasingly fragile guilt. "It's not me, it's the cold."
Yet the rapid multiplication of the sensation, now all over her skin, threw off her last board of moral salvation.
The sensation was nothing but pleasure. A pleasure that galloped over fear.
And Beatrice knew it.
The woman then rested her right hand on Beatrice's hip. First very subtly, almost only with her fingertips, and then she filled her whole palm with the curve that divided the waist from her legs. There she stopped.
Slowly he slid his hand diagonally under the small bag towards the sex of a concentrated Beatrice, who was watching the movements of her invader, trying to find the exact point where he would make her stop on the way to her crotch.
Each time she advanced, Beatriz swore that she would stop her at that moment.
But she did not. As if wanting to endure a self-imposed test of resistance, she let it invade a little more each time. And then some. And another.
Strangely enough, it wasn't the sex of her company that bothered her, but the explosive intimacy that she had made room for. The possibility that this was good was slowly taking hold of the fleeting trace left by her racing thoughts. She was confused. For the first time in her life, she was completely helpless.
A huge shock had taken hold of her, taking over the sensitivity of her skin. This was a welcome sight. I didn't know her; I hadn't even seen her face. But it was pleasant. No doubt she was afraid, but over the fear came what she must now recognize as pleasant. She liked the caresses that those hardened nipples could give her. He liked the warmth of that hand moving forward like a fire.
"I like it." He finally recognized in his head.
Lost in thought, Beatrice threw her head back unconsciously. The woman reached out to her ear. Beatrice, surprised at her own advancement, was about to remove her hand from her belly when the woman said in a choppy voice:
"Get down now... please."
And she withdrew her hand.
At that moment the train began to stop at the fifth station.
Beatriz understood immediately that somehow she had been the invader herself; that her sheltered presence had been the trap for someone else. A feeling of delicate compassion transformed everything at once. Her morbidity then rested on tenderness; a tenderness that suddenly silenced the last echoes of the guilt of her touch and opened the memory to the memory of that moment.
The doors opened. Beatrice went out with her eyes closed. She took two steps and stopped. She turned around just as the doors closed. She looked in through the window and stared into the woman's eyes. They shone like iced glass.
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