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of his erection radiated through his pants and warmed my ass. Once again, I rode the train with soaking wet panties. Oh, how I wanted to turn around, wrap my legs around him, and bury his cock in my dripping pussy. But I couldn’t. We were on the train with hundreds of people. So, my satisfaction had to be gained by teasing him to the point where he had to spend his first few minutes at the office in the bathroom jacking off.
    Using every ounce of willpower I possessed, I pulled away. His quiet groan hummed in my ear, a groan meant only for me, and it sent shivers down my neck. I gave it a few seconds, made him suffer, then I brushed my ass against his cock again, pressing harder than I had before. The curve of my ass fit perfectly on his erection. Adding more pressure, I perched on his hard cock giving in to the rhythm of the train. I felt every bump, every turn, every jostle.
    God, his cock felt good. Felt so very good.
    I wanted to turn around, wanted my pussy to ride his cock. Even through clothing, my desire was so heightened that one brush against my clit would’ve sent me into the throes of orgasm.
    When his hand left my hip and slid across my hipbone, I knew the path it sought. Liked where it was headed, but no. I controlled the situation, not him. I stopped his hand from progressing and stepped away. He tried to force me back in place, but I stood, unbending. Dripping and panting, but I wouldn’t budge.
    Another groan of frustration. The thought of provoking that same guttural, primal, sound from him during sex added tingles to my already tingling bits.
    I savored my power, loved being the teaser. I reached behind me and ran my hand over his zipper. His hot erection sizzled against my palm. A deep, raw growl meant for my ears only thrilled me. He stepped even closer and shoved against my hand. Oh, how I wanted to unzip his pants and feel his hot, throbbing flesh. Gritting my teeth, trying to quell my lust, I pulled my hand away.
    He nipped my ear. The feel of his lips drove me wild. At the brink of orgasm, I doubted I could take a step without erupting.
    Throwing caution and good sense out the window, I let go of the overhead rail and settled my ass against his lap. The only thing keeping me upright was his arm around my waist and my backside firmly planted on his erection. The train roared through small stations, clicking and clacking, swaying and bobbing. Every movement creating an erotic dance. I closed my eyes and relished every sensation.
    The nasal-voiced train announcer broke into my thoughts. “ Seibu-Ikebukuro sen wo goriyou kudasaimashite arigatou gozamau odeguchi wa migigawa desu. Thank you for using the Seibu line.” Doors on the right side will open for exit.
    I grabbed the overhead railing and righted myself. When the train doors opened, Kentaro whispered in my ear, the first words he’d ever spoken to me, “Tomorrow, wear a skirt.”
    Tomorrow wear a skirt.
    Tomorrow wear a skirt? What the hell did that mean?
    Well, it means tomorrow wear a skirt, but why? As I walked to the office, I mentally listed all the clothes in my closet. I had a couple of skirts, but nothing very promising.
    Fortunately, meetings and fast-approaching deadlines filled my workday. I didn’t have time to obsess over the action on the train. Oh, thoughts of leaning into Kentaro’s erection tried to occupy my mind, but I didn’t have the time to savor them.
    After work, I stopped by Isetan, the major department store on the eastside of the Shinjuku Station. Sales clerks bowed when I walked through the door. The overpowering aroma of cosmetics and perfumes assaulted my nose, making my eyes water. I rode the tiny, steep escalator to the third floor and stepped off into Size Shop, which was next to Tall Size Shop. Brightly lit with pulsating techno-pop blaring the “plus-size” section of ladies’ wear didn’t offer a peaceful shopping environment. Then again, with my nerves and level of sexual arousal, peace could only