The Grey and the Colour

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Amateur

The train ride he took every single working day, took him into the city.

He lived in a suburban flat, some 12 miles away.

The city centre was a soul less, modern amalgam of concrete, steel and cold glass, seemingly in existence solely so it may serve as a platform for cold, soul less meetings between greedy, soul less business ‘people’ and provide the physical foundation for crass skyscrapers to advertise to the masses their owners morally questionable successes.

He was a minion.

Just one of the countless people employed by the greedy, to serve functions too lowly for the powerful to consider personally.

His duties lacked the lure of challenge. His responsibilities were slight. His working conditions oppressive and his salary meagre.

Every time he took the train to his workplace, he felt a little more of his life force was being drained from him, his vital energy coldly converted into profits for someone whose identity would probably forever remain unknown to him.

This was his twelfth week.

It was Monday, and his monotonous, tedious cycle of rape was beginning again.

He felt he was being bent over and screwed up the ass, cruelly taken advantage of, his body merely a tool to be exploited for the benefit of the mysterious, unstoppable, man made force.

He first saw her standing at the other end of his carriage.

He had noticed many people on this train over the last 11 weeks.

Most were ‘grey’, their lives and hopes having being absorbed by the ‘machine’, the pernicious modus operandi of modern global enterprise.

But some were different.

They were full of ‘colour’, still brimming with Life’s energies.

Perhaps they were the ones in charge, the ones who had the power he pondered? The ones who decided a person’s future…and their fate?

But he thought that unlikely. They would not be on this train.

The only train they rode was the gravy train and like Hogwarts it departed from a platform known only to a chosen few who possessed special privileges and powers.

No, they were the people who had defiantly turned their backs to the system, who were not walking the common road but the road less travelled.

The road that promised an adventure. That promised Life.

The road that not just preserved but invigorated their spirit.

They were ‘alternative’ people.

She was full of ‘colour’ too.

And beautiful. Desirable. In the way that affects a young mans consciousness during the day and at night, pervades his dreams.

His interest in her was now sparked and he hoped this day marked the beginning of a new chapter in his life.

A chapter in which he would begin to live again.

To regain his life force and embrace the vitality and delicious sensuality this beautiful creature promised.

The train stopped and more grey people got onboard.

Their baggage? Black briefcases and sombre faces.

Resigned to serve and devoid of dreams.

He lost sight of her in the crowded carriage and strained to locate her, but to no avail.

He felt his heart die a little and at the next stop forced himself to exit through the automatic doors and leave her behind, for this was his destination, not knowing if he would ever see her again, that beautiful, delicious vision of hope.

He walked the 4 minute walk to ‘his’ cold, concrete place of employment, rode the lift to ‘his’ floor and sat at ‘his’ workstation.

It was 9:00 am.

The day promised little and, as usual, delivered less.

All day, his mind turned to that glorious vision on the train.

He now regretted getting off.

Perhaps he should have sought her among the grey? Like a prospector hungrily seeking a nugget of gold concealed amongst the dry, worthless rubble.

He could have called in sick. He certainly felt so.

He had caught something this morning, not a disease as such but an infection none the less.

It was not infatuation.

It was Desire.

There was no cure but why indeed should one be necessary?

The day’s work came to a halt at 5:00pm precisely.

He shut down the computer, put pens ostim escort and pencils into the drawer and rode the lift down to the crowded street below.

He walked the 4 minutes to the station, boarded the 5.14 and spent the rest of the evening pondering the positive possibilities and the inherent implications, he hoped this newly discovered sensual being may have upon his life.

He did not even know her name.

In fact he knew nothing about her but that didn’t stop his desperate search for a future in which he was happy. This sensual, young woman promised that.

But there were no guarantees. At the back of his mind he knew that but he enjoyed the potential none the less.

His vision and his hope (and imagination) were strong.

The next day saw him waiting at the station platform for the 8.22.

He alighted as usual and jostled for a position among the throng.

Most occupied their minds with ‘smart’ phones, aimlessly navigating their way through a labyrinth of infinite pathways, ever hopeful of finding ‘the’ answer as to why they were on their phone at all.

He gazed out of the window at the sprawling view of civilization and then he saw her!

They had arrived at the same station as the day before, noteworthy only for her presence.

She moved with the crowd onto his carriage and found a place to stand.

A place made for her.

He recognized her instantly. She was as captivating as he remembered and he could not take his eyes off her.

She was in a similar part of the train as the day before, as was he and thus she was again out of reach, separated by the thick, grey crowd and the multitude of anonymous briefcases.

He watched her intently, desperately searching for clues to her identity and her character.

One can tell much from a persons demeanour.

The way they stand, the way they play with their hair, the clothes they wear and their body language.

Her body spoke to him with a sultry tone, heavy with sex.

She was perhaps 5’8″. Brunette. Her skin was lightly tanned. Her physique was slender but with a fine figure. Age about 22? His age.

She appeared calm. Composed. In control, not just of herself and her thoughts and emotions, but seemingly of her surroundings.

Her aura of quiet calm and sensuality extended around her.

Her inner energy and her sex was intoxicating and he soon got drunk taking her in.

Her body was strongly sexual. Her breasts were not overly large, but shaped for pleasure, both to the eye and the touch and her hips shaped for function, splendidly capable of satisfying any carnal desire asked of them by those fortunate enough to be chosen.

In his imagination, she was his already. His to hold, to fondle, caress and seduce.

He was blissfully unaware she had already seduced him!

He was under her spell now.

His stop arrived all too soon and he once again forced himself to exit, this time with the knowledge she was a regular traveller and that, with luck, he shall see her again! Perhaps next time he shall meet her!

His activities at his workstation were shrouded in a haze, his mind obsessed with her gorgeous visage.

He fantasized about her body.

He imagined her naked, her soft, warm body close to his. He wanted her.

5:00 pm finally arrived and he returned home to continue his erotic thoughts of her.

That night, as he slept, his erotic thoughts continued on as dreams.

Wednesday came and he waited once again for the 8:22 train.

He had decided to board the train a little further forward so he may perhaps be closer to her when she boarded.

A little closer in order to meet her! To talk with her! To be with her!

To feel her energy. To bathe in it and feel its beautiful, warm, sensual calmness.

To move within her, in all manner of ways, all of them desirable and powerful.

His gaze out of the window at the moving picture of suburbanization was that of a blind man, his sight elsewhere, inwardly viewing his memory of her face and of her body.

Her station approached and his heart was beating hard, his sıhhiye escort breathing heavy and his palms sweaty. His organ of sex was aroused. Prematurely, confidently expectant of sex.

He could not see her among the usual crowd, their grey faces sharing a common acceptance of the tedium which the day once again promised.

The doors closed and he feverishly searched the carriage for ‘her’.

She was not there.

He squinted, as best he could, through the windows of the doors at the ends of his carriage, hoping to catch a glimpse of her in an adjoining carriage but she was nowhere to be seen!

His heart sank once again.

He swore silently at himself. ‘You fucking idiot, you should have pushed yourself to meet her on Monday!’ ‘Now she has gone forever!’

The day at his desk saw him in a dark mood.

He felt as though his last hope at happiness had been ripped from his grasp. His heart crushed. His dreams cruelly taken from him.

He tried to tell himself there were ‘plenty of fish in the sea’.

But he had built up his hopes with this girl too far. His imagination had created an almost tangible future with her at its centre.

Now this future fell apart, like a solar system without a star.

Had he got too cocky? Too confident?

Life is unpredictable except for the predictability of failure.

Had he failed?

Had he failed himself?

He survived the day. He did not throw himself from the roof, one of several fateful scenarios which unfolded in his now bleak, disenchanted imagination.

He longed for the enchantment of her. Of the many joys her body promised.

5:00 pm saw him returning to the station to catch the 5:14.

He merged with the sombre, grey crowd in the carriage.

He slept poorly that night.

Dark negativity pervaded his every thought, his conscious self unable to win back control. His ‘happy thoughts’ had been slain. Vanquished by the combined evils of bad luck and poor judgement.

Thursday morning brought with it the acceptance he may never see her again.

‘So be it!’ he reassured himself. ‘She was probably a crazy fucking bitch anyway!’

‘Why did get myself so worked up over a girl!’

Deep down, in his heart, he doubted this harsh assessment but he was not about to get in an argument with himself!

He gazed through the window of the 8:22 hoping to see something new, something of interest to pick him up, but the all too familiar scenery stubbornly refused to offer him anything.

He gazed idly at some of the other unfortunate passengers and then he saw her!

She noticed his stare and smiled softly, enigmatically, the way the Mona Lisa does.

He instinctively smiled back at her and his heart, having previously died a little, once again resumed its’ strong, rhythmic beat.

‘Why had he not seen her enter the carriage?’

Perhaps he had been in such a dark funk, his mind and his eyes were blind to the present, instead brooding on the failures of the recent past to have noticed.

Once again, his stop approached and he had to decide whether to get off and risk not seeing her again or staying and attempt an encounter, forsaking work and perhaps phoning in sick or arriving late with an excusable excuse.

The question in his mind was answered for him when he saw her also prepare to disembark!

Here was his chance! His reinvigorated heart thumped loudly in his chest. His mind spinning with the potential the next few seconds could produce!

The heavy train came to a halt with a squeal of brakes, the doors opened and the smell of hot brake linings invaded the nostrils of the crowd as they stepped onto the platform and moved as one towards the exit.

He was swept along by them like a leaf on a swollen river and he glanced around in vain to spot her.

‘Where is she!’ he panicked. ‘Did she not get off after all?’

He was angry with himself for taking his eye off the very desirable ball and angry with the masses for being unsympathetic to his cause and sweeping him off towards his very undesirable destination.

He waited at the front ankara escort of the station for as long as he could, hoping to catch sight of her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

His heart died a little once more.

Again he was in a funk all day and, when he returned home, all evening.

He was confused, mystified as to what went wrong with what seemed a straight forward conclusion to his quest.

He slept a fitful sleep, his few dreams full of failure.

His frustratingly long bouts of insomnia were full of regret.

Friday morning.

The 8.40.

The boredom of the known continued past her window.

She surveyed the grey passengers as usual, hopeful of seeing ‘him’ again.

She had had a fitful sleep.

Her dreams were full of romance, kisses, nakedness and orgasmic sex.

But her frustratingly long bouts of insomnia were also full of regret.

‘Where had he disappeared to on the platform?’ she pondered.

‘Why had she not the courage to approach him on the train?’

He was handsome. Aged perhaps 24? Maybe 6′ – 6’2″? Nice body, slender but muscular. Well dressed. His body language told her he was caring, a romantic, but strong willed, sexually potent and forceful.

She wanted him to use a little of that force on her!

To make her do the things to him which brought him erotic pleasure. That carried him to a state of ecstasy!

The thought of that excited her! Her nipples hardened in response.

She wore a blouse, very loosely buttoned, her medium sized, firm breasts unconfined by a bra. Her shapely hips were covered by a short, thin summery skirt.

The day was going to be warm again and she had decided to enjoy the freedom and sensual delights afforded by a complete lack of underwear!

A small cloth handbag hung at her side, attached to a thin strap that crossed over her chest and nestled between her bosoms.

This time she would get her man she determined.

Meet him. Touch him. Kiss him.

She pulled herself together, gathered her composure and began swimming her way through the grey ocean, desperately intent on reaching the desert island that was ‘her’ man.

His station approached as he saw her slowly make her way towards him!

His heart was racing and his body did the things men’s bodies do when the thought of sex is in the air.

She was now close to him, at last!

He noticed her loose top, a button having come undone in her push through the sea of people, and one breast lay provocatively exposed, its nipple hard and erect.

The shrill sound of brakes told her the train was coming into their station when she finally stood before him and she smiled warmly into his eyes, then gave him a soft, warm kiss on his lips.

She took his hand and pressed a piece of paper into his palm and pushed his fingers around it, then turned around, and bracing herself against his hips, pressed the soft, warm cheeks of her bottom against his groin, inwardly delighted with the sensation of his firm erection felt through the thin cloth of her skirt!

The doors opened automatically, the warm morning air once again carrying the smell of hot brakes.

She suddenly jumped out and ran off ahead of the surging sea of people towards the exit, her breasts bouncing teasingly out of her shirt! A glorious vision of colour amidst the grey.

His eyes followed her getaway until she quickly disappeared into the crowd.

He stood in a state of disbelief.

The suddenness and intensity of what just happened made his mind spin but he stepped onto the platform carried by the sea until he found a quiet backwater off to one side.

He opened his hand and stared at the folded piece of orange paper the vibrant object of his desire had placed there, only seconds before.

Slowly, reverently he opened it, his hands trembling with anticipation.

On it was written her name…a time… and a place!

On this day, his life was now suddenly full of colour too! Of promise.

On this day, her life was starting an exciting, erotic new chapter!

(This story is a development of a short, short story written by me many years ago. The characters are fictitious but, of course, draw on my experiences and meetings with people of all sorts, good and bad, hot and cold.

I may write a further chapter to this if this is well received.

If not, well…Long live the colour!)

Cheers

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