Underground Eruptions Could Cause Quakes Months Later (Scientific American)

Sitting on a KTX train bound for Daegu, I see my own reflection absentmindedly staring out the window at the mountains passing by.  As so often happens when I’m not thinking of anything in particular, my thoughts drift to you.  To your strong fingers, your expressive brown eyes, your dirty words whispered lovingly into my ears.  Your mouth on my nipple, seen from above as I’m straddling you.  Your sex and heat and body odor-mingled scent in the late morning after an all-night fuck marathon.

You often joked with me how you’d want to see me right off the train or bus because long-distance transit makes me insatiably horny.  I don’t know why; the rumblings of the engine or the bumps in the road, the freedom of my mind to wander now that I’m far from home, the shadows crossing my face as we enter and exit tunnels. 

I’m thinking of you and I remember (or did I dream it?) coming home one night after a weekend away to find you lounging on my couch, reading a book.  Waiting for me.  I didn’t expect to see you.  Didn’t expect for you to stride over to me without saying anything, kiss me full on the lips (god your lips), and then ask if my bus ride was good.  I couldn’t muster an answer as I was too busy dropping my bag, fumbling with the buttons on your shirt, and barely getting my own pants down a bit before you picked me up and put me on my kitchen counter, pushed my pants off with your foot, and grabbed the back of my hips to pull me forward enough for you to slide into me.  I came hard that night with my head banging against my cupboard, clutching your back as though I hadn’t seen you in years, feeling a hunger in my cunt for more and more of you.

Now, sitting on the train and thinking of your body pressed against me, I feel my lips swell, blood pulsing deep inside me.  Sometimes I think that if I fantasize hard enough I can make myself come – but not having accomplished that yet, I stand up suddenly, push by the passenger next to me, and enclose myself in the train bathroom.  Still standing, I move my hand into my panties and dip my fingers inside, drawing up my own lube, and rub two fingers in circles around my clit, breath coming hard, biting my own lip.  It doesn’t take long.  My whole body shakes soundlessly, vibrating against the bathroom wall.  A series of powerful contractions takes my breath away, and my body relaxes.  I see myself tremble in the bathroom mirror and I think, sorrowful for just a moment, about how much I’d like to come home to you.  You’re 7,000 miles away now, but you still erupt inside of me now and then, spilling out of me, aftershocks stretching out into the night.

 

 

This was written for a competition on Sex Blog (Of Sorts); check out the other entries and write one of your own!