3. Did you follow me?

I see your true colors
shining through
I see your true colors
and that's why I love you
so don't be afraid to let them show
your true colors
true colors are beautiful
like a rainbow

"True Colors",
Cyndi Lauper

This Friday had been a weird day anyway, and it seemed it wasn't over yet. Whether it was my late partial victory in the Blondie combat zone, or the wine I had while supervising her extra hours, or just a temporary personality disorder – when I got on the train, I felt bold and adventurous...

...like the world's most dangerous predator...

...and my unsuspecting prey was waiting for me in wagon No3. Tonight, Kiddo's number was up!

But first things first...a quick inspection of weapons in my arsenal wouldn't hurt.

I stepped into the toilet, locked the door from inside and dropped my bag next to the sink. The woman in the mirror was glowing with excitement – to be honest, I didn't know her at all. However, this wasn't the time to wonder, instead I focused on the task at hand.

The white blouse I wore, because of the afternoon meeting with our publishing director, was a little too 'schoolmistress' for my mission, but the grey pencil skirt worked miracles on my waist.

Not bad, Portman. All you need to do is...

I opened the top button of my blouse and, after a moment of deliberation, the next one too. Better!
With crossed arms I reached into my bra, lifted my boobs a little and then tucked them back into their cups, carefully making sure both nipples were neatly pointing upwards.

"Nice cleavage," I assured my reflection, giggling. "If I were a guy, I would so want to touch these!"

My face reflected something else though. It was a fucking long day and there was no denying it: the dark circles under my eyes and my pale skin gave me away.

"Fuck!" I muttered. "I look like 42!"

Which, in fact, I was. Usually I could get away with a nice 35 though, and on my best days maybe even younger. But tonight I was quite a mess. Today of all days... unfair! Bad timing!

I sighed. There wasn't much to do about it. I could only focus on the dim light inside the compartment... the lamp above the mirror was just brutal. Or I could...

Stop whining, Portman – go big or go home!

I quickly reached under my skirt and stripped off my panties. "You are not worthy!" I told the white cotton hipsters and shoved them deep into my bag. The woman in the mirror was grinning, she was clearly out of her mind – I liked her.

"Showtime!" she said.


When I walked toward his seat, I still had no idea how to start or what to say, but I didn't have a chance to be witty anyway. I was just two or three steps away when Kiddo took me by surprise; he looked up from his reading and gave me a faint nod of recognition.


He knew me? I hadn't taken that into account. But of course, he either recognized me as one of the usual morning passengers, or worse, he remembered the woman who had creeped him out with her stare three months ago. How embarrassing! So much for the 'mysterious sexy stranger seduces unsuspecting handsome fellow' scenario I had envisioned...

Totally knocked out of my stride, I nodded back, in spite of myself, as I passed him, and then kept on walking to the very end of wagon No3, which suddenly had lost a lot of its earlier promise. I dropped myself down onto the last bench – puzzled, but still too much in high spirits to give up.

Just a little setback. No problem. Now we're going to plan B!

I would not just go home tonight. The only thing waiting for me there was my budgie Carlisle, and he wasn't even really waiting. At least, this was my chance to find out where Kiddo lives. It would be nice to know, just for fun, right? A little stalking, nothing else. No harm done...

I didn't have to wait very long, he got off just one station after mine: Park Road. I waited a few moments to establish a comfortable distance before I followed him. There were very few people outside; I would have to be really careful.

I could almost hear the adrenaline humming through my body, when he vanished behind the first street curve. As soon as I reached the spot, I pressed my back flat against the wall and peeked around the corner. This reconnaissance mission was already paying off; I was learning a lot about him, like his gait and his height. I mean, I had never seen him walk, or even stand. He was pretty tall and - damn, he was moving fast! When he turned to the left and out of sight, I hurried to keep up.

Around the next corner I saw why this was called Park Road. Another setback: If there's anything I hated more than the main station at night, then it was night without the main station. Kiddo was walking towards a small path which led into a poorly-lit, deserted green space, which was surrounded by high stonewalls.


I briefly wondered how the hell I would survive finding my way back. I didn't like parks in the dark and not a soul to be seen scared the shit out of me! But I'd come too far now, and since my prey was again taking a sharp turn to the right, there was no time to hesitate. I quickened my step, rounded the next corner and released a high-pitched squeal...


There he stood, motionless like a statue, his backpack thrown over one shoulder, with both hands in the pockets. His head was slightly inclined and he looked

breathtakingly sexy…


Portman, you're busted!

"Hi!" I blurted out. I felt the blood rise to my cheeks. Unfortunately it stopped right there, which didn't help to improve the obvious lack of circulation in my brain – I had no idea what to do next.

So I did nothing. Nor did he. We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"Did you follow me?" he suddenly asked.


Did he really just say that?

I choked back a giggle. Ok, that was my cue, right? Now I ought to say: I was trying to keep a distance unless you needed my help and blah blah blah... I was dangerously close to having hysterics.

"I said: Did you follow me?" he repeated.

This time there was an angry undertone in his voice, and I answered without thinking:

"No! I... Yes. Shit!"

His reaction was shocking. He exhaled sharply, the polka dot backpack landed on the ground with a thud and he moved towards me in two long strides.

Instinctively, I backed off until I felt the cold bricks of the park's wall meet my shoulder blades.

All of my blood, which had been burning, blockaded in my cheeks, dropped into my feet now in a split-second. He stopped, and his face was no more than five inches from mine. He had never looked more beautiful, or more... dangerous!

Are you afraid? Shit... yes!

I swallowed hard. What if he WAS dangerous? He could be a violent criminal, after all – who knows? How often would you read in crime reports that shocked neighbors said, "Oh, he was such a nice guy, always friendly and helpful – I never thought he was capable to do such terrible things…"

And weren't those psychos usually good-looking and attractive?

The definition of the muscles of his chest and shoulders showed under the thin cotton of his shirt. He was tall. And strong. And the park was completely deserted at this late hour. It was pointless to cry for help. If he was going to attack me, it would be over with me.

Dear God,
If it is your will that he shall kill me, could you please let him rape me first?
Thanks in advance!

Interrupting my religious moment, Kiddo moved yet another inch closer, green eyes glowering.

"Why?" he almost growled.

I was really scared now. I had lost any sense of where my blood was settling in this moment – probably preparing itself to be shed any second. My heart was pounding like mad. Interestingly enough, there was no urge to run. Instead, the fear made me feel rather light-headed. There was no other explanation for what happened next...

I reached out for his right hand, grabbed it by the wrist and slowly pulled it towards me. He looked down, but offered no resistance. His eyes followed every movement as I shoved his hand under my skirt, inch for inch, until his palm rested on my inner thigh.

There I paused, appraising his reaction.

He stood still, gaze fixed on the spot where my skirt had ridden up above both our hands. His jaw was set tight, and he was breathing heavily through his nose. My head was swirling with my own boldness, but even more with the feeling of his skin on mine.

So close... oh God, so close...

He didn't move, but just to hear him breathe that way was a huge turn-on. I was sure he could smell the wetness between my legs now. Hesitatingly, I released his wrist from my grip.

His hand stayed where I had placed it.

Your turn, Kiddo.

I lowered my gaze from his face down to his chest, where I could see his heart beat under his shirt in a rapid rhythm, syncopating the heavy waves of his breathing. But he still didn't move.


Suddenly he shifted his weight on one leg. His nostrils flared as he took one single deep breath. And then, very gently, he squeezed my thigh.

I almost sobbed with relief - he wouldn't reject me!

All my fear was gone now. I couldn't even remember what had made me think this boy could be dangerous. He was obviously more scared of me than the other way round. He still hadn't looked up yet, and I could feel, more than see, that he was slightly trembling.

"It's ok," I whispered. "I want you to touch me."

I took his free arm by the wrist and pulled it up next to my shoulder, slowly drawing him closer until the palm of his hand touched the wall behind me. He followed willingly. Bending his arm at the elbow, he rested his entire forearm against the bricks for better support, which brought him so close to me that his forehead almost touched mine.

"Please..." This time I had said it aloud.

And he responded.

Slowly, very slowly, he started stroking my thigh. A little way down, and then a longer way back up.
Once. Twice. Once again.

You're almost there, love...

I shifted my hips in anticipation and his fingers briefly grazed my bum. When his hand finally cupped my folds, he suddenly stiffened and let out a gasp. His head jolted up and for the first time since I had made him touch me, his eyes met mine. His mouth opened and he stared at me in disbelief.


I had actually forgotten about my little strip in the train toilet myself. And where Kiddo had most likely expected a neat panty to work his way in, he had found, well... just me.

Don't give him time to think!

I reached down to put my own hand on his, guiding him. I positioned my middle finger exactly over his, slowly pressing and shoving, until he slid inside my wet cleft. He closed his eyes and we both moaned in unison.

"Don't stop," I whispered, before I withdrew my hand. Obediently he continued the movement, pushing even a little deeper, his long finger slightly curled.

"Yes - just like that..."

His breath came in short puffs now through his parted lips, and he was frowning in concentration.

God, he is so adorable!

I leaned my forehead against his shoulder in bliss, when he impressed me by adding another finger without further guidance. In this position I could not only see the muscles of his right forearm tense and relax while he was moving in me, but I could also see the considerable bulge in his jeans. The sight of both almost brought me to the edge. The urge to touch him was unbearable.

I grabbed his hips with both my hands and simultaneously ran my thumbs down where I knew the two lines of his "V" slanting inward, and he drew in a sharp breath. I took it as a yes.

Without further ado I unbuckled his belt. His jeans were buttoned and a bit of a challenge, since Kiddo had just found out all by himself how to make additional use of his thumb, and I could barely focus on anything else but the sensation on my swollen clit.

I shoved my hand into his jeans, running my fingers through the soft curls of his hair and further down. I blissfully marveled at the strength and youth I could feel there - the silky skin of his hard-on, twitching against my wrist as I cupped his balls, round and firm in my palm. We were both panting heavily now. I withdrew my hand back a little and grabbed his cock.

"You're so gorgeous, Kiddo." The words just came out as I felt my climax build, I couldn't help it.

When I started to stroke his length, he made a small, surprised noise and laid his cheek against mine. I tightened my grip and stroked one more time, and suddenly his breathing stopped dead. His whole body went stiff and then he convulsed against my hand, until he finally exhaled a long shattered breath and went entirely limp.
Unfortunately, this paralysis also included the hand between my legs.

I almost cried out in frustration.

What the fuck...?

Damn, I should have known, right? He's just so young!

I slowly pulled my hand out of his pants, carefully wiping the product of my efforts off on the inside of his jeans on the way back out. Our breathing had almost slowed down to normal, but he still hadn't moved again. I couldn't believe what just had happened.

And he has just been so creative with his thumb...

I sighed and cleared my throat. "You can have your hand back now if you want."

He swallowed audibly, and after a second he straightened himself and took a step back. Without looking up, he intently started to put his clothes back into their earlier condition. Then he ran one hand through his hair, looking around. Intrigued, I watched him bending down to pick up his kindergarten backpack, brushing off the dust and swinging it over his right shoulder. Finally he shoved both hands into his pockets and raised his head to look at me.

I was still leaning against the wall, painfully aware of the outraged throbbing in my lower regions. And slowly, but surely, I was getting really pissed off. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it again, deliberating.

You better say something good, Kiddo, or you will live to regret this!

When he opened his mouth again, he surprised the hell out of me.


And with that, he started to walk away.

My jaw dropped.


"Hey!" I shouted, scandalized.

He stopped and turned, looking at me with such innocence and earnestness, that my anger instantly came to nothing. Could he really be such a baby?

"Will you be on the train next Friday?" I asked.

He seemed puzzled. "Why yes – should I not?"

"Well... I mean, it's different now, isn't it?"

He lowered his gaze and actually thought about it for a while. Then he surprised me for the third time. "No," he replied.

He turned again, without another word, and walked away.

Thinking of the mess inside his pants, he admittedly did so with considerable dignity. Definitely a man of few words.

When he was out of sight, I slowly slid down the wall until I sat on the ground. There I curled into a ball, buried my face in my hands and wheezed with laughter.

And he didn't even buy me a drink...

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