I sighed, staring out the window as a thousand thousand raindrops pelted the rooftops and city streets like so many paintballs exploding in their reds, blues, and greens, the rain gave no indication of stopping.  So much for Sandy Neck.  I closed my eyes and slowly breathed in the aroma of the chamomile tea in my Wonder Woman mug; the warm apple-blossom smell mingled with lemon and honey gave a peaceful air, even as the steam fogged up my glasses.  My phone lit up and sounded the familiar “dun duh” from Law and Order, Claire had probably come to the same conclusion as I had, what a shame though, we’d been planning our trip to the Cape for weeks.  Claire’s boyfriend had even rented a boat and booked a beach house on Airbnb. Hopefully, he could get his deposit back.  Still having three days off I decided the unexpected free time shouldn’t be wasted and headed to the T station with an umbrella.

As expected, Roxbury Crossing was anything but crowded, at the far end of the platform a young couple made out on the bench and an elderly man traced his fingers along the map, no doubt counting the number of stops before his destination.  I did the same thing when I first moved here, I’d find the stop I needed and count the stops in between rather than learn the names of the stations; eventually, though, I had memorized their order – thanks in large part to the intercom announcements before and after each stop.  As the subway train approached, I stood beside the escalator, planning to board the first car (as always) since it would most likely be empty.  Right again.  I turned immediately left in the car, at the very front of the trains are two seats and a big empty space meant for commuters who are wheelchair bound; I leaned against the wall, feet outstretched across both seats.  Oh yeah!  An entire car to myself – no drunks or screaming kids or old Chinese ladies who put their leaky bag of day-old fish on the seat beside you.  Just silence and the gentle rocking of the car as it sped along the tracks.

Once the train departed the station, I opened my browser and searched “petite teen porn.”  As the video started playing, I glanced around the train car to make sure I was still alone and turned the volume up to 50%.  My fingers soon made their way to that familiar place beneath my skirt, working deftly against the cotton of my panties until they produced a small wet spot.  I imagined being the girl in the video, sucking eagerly on the hard shaft of a clean-shaven man; my fingers slid beneath my panties, eliciting a soft moan as a second man grabbed the girl by the waist and thrust himself into her from behind.  I worked myself into a fervor with practiced ease.  My fingers, wet and sticky with my own juices created a hunger, an absolute need for satisfaction; I moaned loudly, on the edge of my release.  The release never came, the doors of the train slid open at Chinatown, and I was no longer alone.  I took a deep breath, composed myself with my hands folded neatly in my lap as though they’d been there the whole time.  I wondered if the other passengers could smell my arousal.  I could feel it, that painful feeling of wanting more, the pounding in my chest, the warmth between my legs.  Fuck!  I was almost there.

I got off at Quincy Center and began the short walk to Granville Street; a soft breeze blew in from the sea, making the warm summer air feel just right.  Arriving at the small blue house, I was greeted by Andrew, my boyfriend’s younger brother.

“Hey, Drew,” I said, “Where's Randy?”

“He’d left for the Cape already, won’t be back for a while.  Sucks about your trip though.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, come inside, cool off a bit.”

A few moments later I was standing in the living room accepting a glass of water from Drew, I could feel him staring at me as I drank.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said, taking the glass from me, his cheeks flushed. 

I grabbed his hand as he walked away, “Don’t lie to me.”  He turned back toward me, our faces now an inch apart; we stood there in silence for a short eternity.  His gorgeous green eyes pulled me in like a tractor beam, butterflies danced in my stomach as our lips met briefly.  Short as it was, Drew’s kiss was electrifying – my lips tingled, the rest of my face almost numb.  He turned away, finally putting the glass beside the sink.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” he said, staring down. 

I wormed my way between him and the sink, staring him in the eyes, “You shouldn’t have stopped,” I said wrapping my arms around his neck.  I pressed my lips against him, he gave in easily, when he did I slipped my tongue into his mouth.

Finally, our lips parted slowly, the tension between us palpable.  His eyes darted back and forth, searching mine for an explanation.  I smiled and clasped his hand in mine.

I led him into his bedroom and closed and locked the door behind us.  Drew stood in silence near the door as I made my way around the room, trailing my finger along his dresser drawers, stopping in front of the window.

“I heard you’re into photography,” I said.

“Uh, yeah.  That’s right,” he said.

“Good,” I turned toward him, smiling, “I’ve always wanted to try my hand at modeling.  Maybe you can take some pictures, you know, for your portfolio.”

He agreed to take my pictures, so I climbed on his bed and struck pose after pose, once I ran out of ideas for new poses I took off my shirt and repeated the act.  The next time around I took off my skirt, posing in just a bra and panties.  Then just panties.  I felt alive, posing nearly naked for my boyfriend’s brother.  I flopped down on my back, crossing my legs and stretching my arms across the bed.

“Get enough pictures, Drew?” I asked.

“Yes.  That was incredibly hot,” he said.

“Well, now you owe me a favor,” I said.  I slid my panties off, tossing them at Drew’s feet; I ran a finger along my folds and pressed it inside.  I pulled the finger out, beckoning Drew towards the bed before sucking it clean.

I gasped as Drew entered me, he wasn’t long as Randy, but he was thicker – I enjoyed the feeling of being stretched out.  I kissed him and gave my body over to the pleasure, finally able to get the release I’d been craving since I’d been rudely interrupted earlier.

Back at home, I sat on my bed watching the latest episode of “Casual” on Hulu; my phone lit up and sounded the familiar “dun duh” from Law and Order, I opened the text message.  My heart sank, it was from Randy.  He had sent several of the photos I’d taken with Drew earlier, the last one being from after he had filled me with his cum.  Fuck.  I’d thought Drew would keep those a secret.  One last text message: “Come by, Riley, we need to talk. –R”

-----Author's Note-----

Hey guys, I know this story is short, but I hope you like it!  I want to write several parts to this over the coming weeks, please read and comment.