Subway Ride

Like so many, I have been dressing and daydreaming about dressing since my pre-teen raids into my mother's closet. Finally in the mid 1990s, the urge for others to see the `real me' was too strong. At the time, there was a lovely woman in Mahattan named Carla who hosted weekly get-togethers for gurls and `their admirers,' as she called them. I was as nervous as a girl on a first date as I got ready. I laced my corset extra tight and clipped on some silky black nylons. I picked a sexy black knit dress that came to my knees. I wore simple, 3-inch pumps. My nails were a nice, dark crimson. I paid careful attenion for my makeup to appear like any other girl going out for a party and not too flashy or attention-grabbing. I put my lipstick (and a condom) in my small purse. I first thought about taking a cab downtown from the Upper East Side. But in a moment of boldness, I decided to take the subway, the Lexington Ave. line, down to Carla's.

The memory of sitting in the subway will be with me forever! To all the world, I was a nicely dressed woman going to the theater or a romantic dinner. The thrill was incredible.

I got off at the nearest stop and walked 10 minutes to Carla's, enjoying every stride as my heels clicked on the sidewalk. But really I was walking on a cloud.

There were about a dozen gurls already at Carla's and six or seven gentlemen. A few hours later, I was happily kissing one and, with a wink from Carla, took him to a side alcove to relieve the poor boy's hardness.

I treated myself and took a cab home.



bluesatin bluesatin
1 Response Mar 14, 2010

Good for you hun! I hope your male friend enjoyed it also. xox