Mark Twain would keep me preoccupied until the crowds had gone and it was just me and the night and the empty tunnels of the subway.Until that night.I... was a Saturday. I got a seat next to the door and tried to hide behind my book, but the noise of the crowd sometimes distracted me; snatches of conversations, laughter. I looked up once and saw a young couple kissing as they boarded, and I'm afraid I cried a little.As my eyes slid back to my book, I saw to my embarrassment that someone had. She ground her hips in rhythm with her fingers and she practically screamed my name while her whole body shook. Wait… my name? Her hand moved up to caress her tits with both hands and she reached down to grab the blanket. She pulled it over her and stared at the ceiling. Alright, I’ll take that as my cue. “May, are you okay? I heard you scream my name.” I walked in and sat on the edge of her bed. Her cheeks went pink as she sat up. “Yeah, sorry, I was having a bad dream.” She played with her. More

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