The Focus Group Ch. 03

The story so far: Hoping to earn a little extra money in case she's fired or has to quickly leave her job, office worker Marissa has accepted an attractive offer from a marketing firm to evaluate a new product for them at their New York City headquarters. Waiting at the train station, she meets Nigel, a fellow First Class passenger, and the two share a rendezvous with the First Class lounge snack attendant.

The only time Marissa had ever seen anyone leap onto a train at the last moment was in the movies, but that's exactly what she and Nigel were doing as the conductor called, "All aboard!" She felt ridiculous pulling her rolling suitcase behind her as she ran, but her embarrassment was tempered by the waves of pleasure still washing over her from the encounter in the First Class lounge.

When the announcement of their train's impending departure crackled over the public address system, she barely had time to adjust her wrap skirt and dab the sweat from her face before April unlocked the elevator to the lounge. Fortunately there had been no one waiting for the seemingly inoperable lift, so there was no need to find an explanation for why it had been stopped. However, another clutch of rumpled business travelers did embark as soon as she and Nigel stepped off, and Marissa couldn't help smirking as she passed them, knowing what sort of forbidden fun had just transpired on the lounge's club chairs. She had no doubt their stay in the lounge wouldn't be nearly as exciting.

As they arrived to the train door, Nigel stopped and allowed her to go ahead, both of them waving their tickets at the conductor as they lifted their suitcases on board. In the process, his free hand gently cupped the curve of her ass, reminding her that they still had ninety minutes to fill and that she still had a mind full of naughty ideas on how to do it.

Walking through the first car, she suddenly realized the benefits of riding a train that catered mostly to business travelers on a weekend night – plenty of seats vacant, which meant plenty of space to put between them and their fellow passengers. They moved along the aisle, passing three passengers scattered around the front of the car, until they reached the far end and settled in to a grouping of four seats set around a table. The configuration was designed, she imagined, so groups of business commuters could hold meetings on the train before they arrived at their destinations, but she was happy it would give them a little room to spread out.

The train shuddered slightly then slowly accelerated. Nigel lifted both their rolling carry-ons into the overhead luggage bin, then removed his suit jacket and hung it on the hook next to the window. He offered her the window seat on one side of the table, while he took the other.

"Why so far away?" Marissa said. "I thought we were getting along so well."

He smiled. "We are, aren't we? I just thought that since we have a bit of time on our hands, we might as well take a moment to cool things off and get to know each other a bit better. I suppose I'm a little old fashioned like that."

Marissa leaned forward on her elbows. "There's nothing wrong with that at all. Just be warned that everything that's happened so far – and likely will happen – is entirely your fault."

"My fault?" He feigned shock and placed his hand on his chest. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Well, you were the one who approached me, looking all dashing and smelling so nice. If it hadn't been for you, I'd have been minding my own business on one of those hard benches in the waiting area instead of getting all hot and bothered with you in the First Class lounge. I mean, what's a girl to do?"

He lowered his voice. "Besides suck my cock in a semi-public place, and then seduce the 20-something snack girl – who happened to be the reason it was semi-public rather than private – into sucking it as well? Then fingering that girl's pussy to her own climax while she sucked me off a second time? Well, I'm sure I don't know."

Marissa nearly melted into a puddle. Knowing she'd done those things was one thing, but having them described back to her in such a matter-of-fact way was quite another.

"Evening folks. Tickets, please."

The conductor had somehow snuck up on them, and Marissa was curious as to how much he'd heard. Both of them sputtered to say hello then scrambled to find their tickets. She felt herself blushing.

"Restrooms are at each end of the car, and the club car is open for drink service and light snacks. The waiter will be around shortly to take your dinner orders," he said as he punched their tickets and tucked the stubs above their seats. "No delays so far today, so we'll be pulling into Penn Station in approximately ninety minutes. Enjoy your trip."

He stepped through the sliding door and into the next car.

Nigel leaned forward conspiratorially, even though they were unlikely to be overheard. "How did you know the girl had recorded us in the first place?"

"You know, I'm not really sure. Something about her when she popped out to announce herself gave me ... I don't know. A feeling. It just seemed like something she'd do. Right age. Maybe tilting a little to the alternative. Figured she might watch a little porn in her spare time for some reason. Anyway, it was worth asking about. Things certainly turned out fine for all of us."

"Indeed. And you? It seems like you tilt a little toward the alternative, yourself. Although I'd never know from looking at you."

Marissa grinned and sat back. "I'm surprised. You seem to be a man of the world. And you were looking at me pretty hard. I know you were checking out my ass as we headed to the lounge."

"Really? Was I that obvious?"

"Obvious had nothing to do with it. I didn't think you were gay and you weren't wearing a wedding ring, so if you failed to check me out while I was wearing this skirt, I'd have thought you were either legally blind or had some sort of hormone deficiency. And from what I've seen so far, you have zero deficiencies."

She'd removed a shoe beneath the table separating them and took the moment to draw her now bare foot along his calf.

"It is a rather nice view from behind."

She laughed, inching her foot up past his knee. "You're damn right. I sure as hell don't do all those squats and lunges for the heart benefits. And as for the alternative part, I have a confession to make. That's the first time I've ever done something like that."

"Really?"

"Really! You?"

"Well, I've had some encounters that deviated from the norm, I suppose, but nothing quite as cheeky and daring as that. I must say, you've done quite a job of broadening my perspectives in just the short time we've known each other."

"Interesting," she said, arching an eyebrow. "And I would have thought you'd be the one teaching me a few tricks."

He smirked. Marissa was sure he was enjoying what she was up to under the table, where her foot now rested between his legs, playing with his hardening cock through the material of his trousers, but he was playing it cool.

"The trip's not over yet, is it? And I have a suspicion that you and I are both quite full of tricks neither of us has ever seen."

Just then her phone chimed alerting her to an incoming text. Marissa removed her foot and extracted her phone from her handbag, then swiped to view the message. Suddenly she flushed red.

"Oh, my goodness ..."

"Everything OK?"

"Seems we have a fan. Our friend from the First Class lounge just texted me the video she shot of us."

"No! How did she get your number?"

"Um ... I might have written it on the palm of her hand before we took the elevator back down to the station."

"Ha! Spectacular! Here, let me see."

She turned the phone so they both could look, careful to face the screen toward the window in case they were surprised again, and pressed Play. It was obvious from the point of view that the video had been shot from around the corner from the lounge's tiny kitchen, with April holding her phone so only its tiny camera was visible to the open area. But it was enough. They saw Nigel reclined in the club chair, Marissa cast in slight profile, her head in his lap, bobbing up and down as her mouth slid over his shaft. The video also provided an extra bonus – the sounds of April softly moaning and commenting as she watched the action and touched herself.

"Oh, fuck," she whispered. "She's going down on him so deep. I can almost feel his cock in my mouth now. I bet it's so nice and hard and thick. I'd love to feel his hot cum shooting down my throat. And I bet her pussy tastes so nice and sweet, too. I wonder if he's going to lick her pussy so I can see her gorgeous face when she cums for him."

"Oh, my. The girl was a dormant volcano, it would seem."

"And all it took was the two of us to make her erupt."

Marissa felt her excitement building again. Her free hand moved to graze the inside of Nigel's forearm as they watched. It was a struggle to not begin touching herself or Nigel more vigorously.

In the video, Nigel was alternately grabbing the armrest of the chair and clawing his hands through Marissa's hair, his head finally rolling back and his mouth wide open as he came into her mouth, her head still bobbing furiously over his length.

The video ended and they both looked at each other and said, "Whew!"

"Have you ever seen yourself on video before?"

"Once, in college," Marissa said. "It was terrible – old low-rez camera, bad lighting, bad angles. He kept his gym socks on, for god's sake. But this ... This is something entirely different. How about you?"

"A recent lover had the habit of secretly recording us on her smart phone. When I finally asked her why she fiddled with her phone so much before we'd get down to it she admitted what was going on."

"Were you angry? I'd have been pissed."

"I was at first, but once she let me see them I have to say that much of it was quite hot, especially when she told me in excruciating detail how she'd use them later to get off in forbidden places."

"What kinds of places?"

"In her car during her commute, for instance. Quite often in the stall of the ladies' restroom at her job, she said. Occasionally even at her cubicle at work when everyone else had left for the day. Naturally I enjoyed watching her much more than seeing myself fumbling about. There's a reason porn movies never show men's orgasm faces. We look ridiculous – all red and sweaty like we're either having a heart attack or a painful bowel movement."

Marissa covered her mouth and laughed. "I'm sorry. I never really thought about it like that, but you do! I much prefer to hear the noises than to see the facial expressions. I love male moans and sighs."

"Been hearing quite a lot of those today, eh?"

"Might plan to hear some more, too."

"Careful, now. We're about to be ambushed again," Nigel said as he glanced over Marissa's shoulder down the length of the train car.

"And a lovely evening to you fine folks," the waiter said as he stepped to their seats and handed them menus. "As valued Acela First Class passengers, your ticket includes our signature dinner service, so please take a moment to look over the menus. I'll be back shortly to take your drink orders."

After the waiter headed back the way he came, Marissa leaned back in her seat, once again running her foot up the inside of Nigel's thigh.

He had already begun looking over the menu and simply cocked an eyebrow when he felt her toes find his cock.

"Well, hello again," he said, glancing over the top of the menu.

"Hey, there. See anything you like?"

"I've seen quite a bit I like. Most of it not on the menu."

"When he comes back, I'll just have a Chardonnay." She enjoyed the feeling of him growing hard again as she teased him.

"Hmm. Can't imagine what trouble you might get me into after you've been drinking."

"Can't you?" She leaned back to relax a bit and allow herself a better angle to tease him. "Tell me what you'd expect."

Nigel put the menu to the side as she picked hers up and began to peruse. Not a huge selection, but she'd probably settle on the Cobb salad.

"I suspect you'd be the flirty sort of drunk. Something tells me you can hold your liquor pretty well – maybe a good bit of partying in your youth to build up your resistance. Flirty, but not easy, mind you. I find a person's latent personality is usually enhanced by drinking, so you'd still go for those with ... Oh, I don't know ... a less conventional look or bearing."

"So you're describing yourself as unconventional?"

"I suppose. What do you think?" She felt something against her foot that wasn't his shaft, then realized quickly that it was his hand, gripping her firmly and pushing deep into the center of her sole. Oh, sweet Jesus ... He's rubbing my foot without being asked. It took her a moment to formulate a response.

"Unconventional is as good a description as any, I guess." He pressed again hard with his thumb, releasing the tension she had no idea was even there, and she could barely suppress a long moan. "I mean, how many men walk around looking like something that romance writers have wet dreams about?"

His laugher burst in a quick shot through the train car. "Is that what I am?"

She closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of his strong strokes up and down her arch. "Come on. When was the last time you looked in a mirror? Women must tell you that all the time."

She heard him chuckle. "Unfortunately not. But let's get back to you and your drunken persona."

"Yes. Drunken me. What would I get up to?"

"Well, considering what I've seen you up to completely sober, my perspective's a little off."

Marissa waved at him dismissively. "Pay no attention to the last few hours. That is most definitely not the real me."

"Liar."

She smirked, her eyes still closed. "How do you know me so well already? Have you been stalking me?"

"I'm not the stalking sort, I'm afraid."

"Good. I'm not a fan of stalkers. It's flattering at first, but then it just gets scary." His hands were strong and soft, like the perfect combination between someone who laid bricks for a living and spend his earnings on expensive manicures. "What if I told you I'm more similar to your exhibitionist ex? Would you believe me?"

"After what I've experienced today, I'd have no problem whatsoever."

"Well, just so you know, today is a bit of a departure. But that doesn't mean I haven't gotten up to some naughtiness here and there. It's funny that you mentioned your ex getting off in the restroom stalls. I've lost count of the number of times I've rubbed one out in the gym shower."

"Really? What gets you going so much at the gym?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes, please."

She bit her lip, not trying to intentionally look coy, but truly wondering whether she should reveal her secret. "It's women in yoga pants, if you must know. Particularly college girls like our April back at the station. Young, tight asses on the treadmill and the elliptical machines. Ponytails bobbing back and forth. Sweaty cleavage. Does it to me every time."

"What's the appeal for you? Not that I'm arguing. I can certainly see where you're coming from, but I'm a man. Tell me from your point of view."

His foot rub was like truth serum. Marissa wondered if he did this to all the women he was with and if it had the same unusual effect. "First off, I'm really not a lesbian. I wouldn't even say I'm bi, according to the strict definition. But there's just something about women's bodies. I think it has to do with the fact that I know they're not seeing penetration as the ultimate goal, you know? Not that I've got anything against penetration, you understand."

"That's good to hear."

"It's strictly visceral. Honestly, I know women are pains in the ass. Lord knows I'd never be able to put up with one in a relationship. But sexually, there's just something about sharing that softer type of gratification. And the payoff is tremendous. Considering what you said about male orgasms, I guess females cumming is exactly the opposite. I think it's one of the hottest, most erotic things ever. I love the way we arch our backs and grip the sheets and roll our heads to the side with our eyes clenched shut. To know you've brought about that feeling yourself is pretty hot."

"And you've just explained why smart men love giving oral so much. There's not much that compares to gripping your lovers hips to while she thrusts and twists in ecstasy."

"Mmmm. Your talk is going to get me in trouble."

"Better hold off on misbehaving. Our waiter's back. Do you know what you want?"

He released her foot as she sat up, straightened herself a bit and laughed. "Well, that's a loaded question. But for dinner, the Cobb salad will be fine."

The waiter approached and Nigel collected their menus to hand off. "I'll have a Johnny Walker rocks and the chicken Marsala, and the lady will have the Chardonnay and the Cobb salad, please."

"Very good. I'll be back in just a moment with your drinks."

Nigel leaned forward, again striking a confidential tone. "So, just how many women have you been with in these non-bisexual, non-lesbian rendezvous?"

"Are we talking real or imaginary?"

"Either will do for me.

"Real, just a few. In my imagination, dozens. Which would you like to know more about?"

"Let's start with the real," Nigel said, easing back in his seat. "I'm always curious about people's true-life confessions. Tell me about your first time."

"Oh, my god, it's so cliché. It was in college at a slumber party. Actually, not even a slumber party, because we were too old. More like just a sleepover with me and another girl. We'd been out drinking off campus, and her apartment was closer to the bar than my dorm. We were in no condition to drive, so we staggered back to her place. But it wasn't just hers. It was one of those swanky, three-bedroom places. One of the girls' dads owned it and the other two girls paid rent on their room and bathroom.

"So, anyway, we got to her place and we were still pretty lit. We'd both dolled ourselves up pretty thoroughly because the place we'd gone was way off campus and known more as a twenty-something bar, so we were trying to look more sophisticated. Looking back, I don't think it worked too well because all the guys who hit on us seemed to get spooked, like we were sixteen-year-olds or something. But we did look damn good – two 19-year-olds in short, low-cut dresses with backs down to just above our ass cracks and high heels. I'm not sure if we really expected to take anyone home that night, but when we got dressed we certainly kept that in the backs of our minds.

"Back at her place everyone else was asleep or still out partying, so we just headed to her room and flopped down on the bed. My head was a little swimmy, but I was still with it enough to hear her say, 'I don't know about you, but I'm a little frustrated.' Apparently she really had expected to get laid that night and was all wound up. I think she actually said something like, 'I really wanted some cock, and now I've got to do something about it.' Then she turns her back to me so I can unzip her dress for her, and I realize that at some point during the evening she's removed all her underwear, like going total commando.

"She shimmies out of the dress and I just plop back down on the bed, not really sure what was happening. She bends over in front of her bedside table to look in a drawer and gives me a full few of her ass and pussy, then pulls out a dildo and says, 'I really need to take care of this before we go to bed or I'll never get to sleep. Do you mind?' I remember being a little freaked out, but at this point I'm probably too drunk to object and get all weird. After all, she was my place for the night and I didn't feel like trying to get another ride back to the dorm. So I just shake my head 'no.'