Observing an Interracial Couple, Pt. 2
What a husband witnessed onboard a subway train.
It had been a tiresome day for me. I was riding a subway train weeks ago when I observed a young interracial couple seated across from me. He was a young black man, while she was a pretty-looking blonde. They were all over each other, talking and laughing at their jokes, unconcerned about the few people riding the train with them or me.
At some point, they began kissing, slow and steady at first, and then it grew frantic and more passionate. They were sucking each other's lips and moaning like they were in the privacy of their bedroom.
I felt a little uncomfortable sitting there watching them. Uncomfortable, for sure, because it felt a lot like being a voyeur when I didn’t necessarily choose to be one. However, the more I sat there watching them, the more their action got to seem so arousing. With the manner with which the blonde chick kept pulling at her black lover’s shirt, it got me rooting for them to have sex in my presence. I know that sounds farfetched, and it’s not like I was seriously hoping that they would get to doing that . . . but what if? I mean just what if?
Their kissing seemed to continue for a long while. At first, the blonde pressed herself against her lover, but soon things changed, and it got to be her black lover who then had the upper hand. He slid his hand under her t-shirt and was rummaging inside, likely squeezing her tits. The blonde got to moaning while caught up in their kiss. She even spread her legs apart for him, which made me know that she was lost to the moment.
As for me, I tried my best not to move a muscle. I tried to stay oblivious to their action not to arouse their attention. Other people were riding the train with us, but they were all caught up in whatever issues preoccupied their minds. I had the couple all to myself and I didn’t want to lose this moment at all. It was so captivating; I felt invincible, like I was the only one watching this explicit cinematic experience. I could feel my boner getting a rise in my pants and prayed for it not to become obvious.
The train drew to a stop to my chagrin and the doors slid open. The couple stopped their sexual playing and grabbed their bags and left. I sat there feeling sad in my mind, wishing that they’d return and finish what they had begun.
Or better yet, wouldn’t it have been great if I trailed after them, and maybe they saw me and decided to invite me to their apartment to continue the fun? After all, it’s not often that one gets to see an interracial couple loving each other without a single care in the world.
It got me thinking about my wife back home . . . including my teenage daughter that’s about to enter college. I sat there as the train continued its ride trying to imagine my wife being sexually seduced by a black man. How would she respond if ever I got to tell her what I had witnessed tonight and then to suggest the idea about me wanting to see her in the arms of a black man.
I returned home to my wife nearly an hour later. She asked me about work, and I told her it was great. I never mentioned about what I had witnessed in the train; she would have disproved of me staring at the couple and reminded me to mind my business next time. I waited until she was asleep later that night before sneaking out of bed and went into the bathroom to masturbate. I recalled everything I had witnessed of the couple, except in place of the blonde was my wife.
If you wish to read the alternate version of this story, follow the link below:
What usually goes through your mind whenever you witness an interracial couple outdoors?