Stories I Create On The Train

I’m on my way to church, a moment when my mind should focus on Godly things after I’ve let it wander through the week.

The train has just pulled into the station and I watch him step up to the platform out of the corner of my eye. And like a smoke cloud evaporating, there goes my concentration on The Lord.

God help me (now I’m praying in earnest), he’s delicious with his tattooed arms and neatly trimmed beard. The lean body he hides under that tee seems to ripple. It’s hot and I’m thinking about how badly I want to lick the sweat from his body.

So much for thinking Godly thoughts. My body is switched on and the whole ride into town I’m fantasizing about crawling into his lap and under that painfully thin t-shirt, lapping at the muscles until they quiver under my tongue. What does his skin taste like? I contemplate this among many things.

Two stops away, a crowd of people board and he stands up for a mom and her kids. Parts of me melt and I’m ashamed to say my heart wasn’t the first thing on the list.

Now he’s closer though, his hand gripped the bar in front of me, arm extended above my head so I can track the flex of his body. I take a breath and smell male, musky, sexy man. Lord, I want to step forward and bury my nose in his neck and my hands in his pants. I’ll sing praises then and so will he. Hallelujah.

My fantasies are so basic, so primal I can’t be bothered to concoct some elaborate story. My mind can’t get beyond how badly I want him.

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” For the love… Is that really all my sex muddled brain can muster and force out of my mouth?

He smiles. God what a sexy smile. “Thanks.”

I wish I was smooth, one of those girls that’s pretty and/or articulate. Not today.

We get off at the same stop. I detour a little and he ends up in front of me going up the stairs. Slow walking, him in front and me behind. I’m thinking I need to focus on heaven and that does not include the way his butt fills out his jeans.

Heavenly Father, refocus my attention, in Your name I pray. Amen.

I’ll think of the “what ifs” of his body wrapped around mine and me doing bad things with him after the service.

Comments

  1. Nick

    Let us hope that your prayers are properly answered very soon!
    Those little puddles you keep leaving on trains are quite a give-away:-)

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      1. erickeys

        Want to have a long personal conversation and fill Cara’s inbox with all sorts of notifications of comments that have nothing to do with her actual post?

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