"What do you think I'm gonna do? What can that possibly get you?" Her blouse was tucked tight into her jeans and she had to work it free. "Like I'm just gonna roll up my blouse, right in public," she said, rolling the clingy fabric up under her ribs, "and what, just offer my tits to you? for your inspection?" She stretched the roll up over her bra and held it there taut, both hands at her shoulders.

She stood like that for a few beats, fuming, waiting for him to wipe the smirk off his face. He just spread himself out a little more on the bench. "Then why'd you come over here for?" he asked.

"Because you fucking beckoned me!" She rage-scoffed. "What in the world made me think you'd be a decent guy."

"I'm a great guy," he said. "Women love me." He crossed his arms and stared at her. She stood her ground. "So what's the holdup?" he finally said.

She compressed her lips and gave her head a little toss. "The holdup is, you haven't let me put this back down so I can go."

"Oh!" He chuckled. "No honey, when I said show em I meant all the way."

She shifted her gaze left and right around the platform. "I am not,—" she hissed, lowering her voice and bending down to him a little, "I am not—"

He waved his hand in the direction of the crowd and made a dismissive sneer. "Don't worry about them."

"—gonna just ..." She raised back up, crossed her arms in front of her and peeled the blouse off over her head. She waved it at him, looking exasperated. "And what am I supposed to even do with it? Toss it on the floor?"

"Hand it here," he said, reaching.

"Not to mention the bra," she said, hands behind her back, "if you honestly imagine ..." She grimaced and fought with the clasp to get it open. She kept herself from saying anything more, just glared at him while she dropped it with a little sarcastic flourish into his lap.

"Nice ones," he said. "Bigger'n I thought."

She had a half-reflex to cover her breasts, but she suppressed it and clasped her hands defiantly behind her, her chest thrust out. She stared straight out over his head, like a soldier at attention. "Great way to meet girls, incidentally," she said defiantly. "Just exactly how a woman likes to be approached."

The roar of an inbound train started to crescendo. "Come on, don't be like that," he said. He gave her his puppy-dog eyes. "Come on, sit down."

She sighed, and her shoulders slumped, but she made no move. She felt the gust of the train's arrival push against her bare back.

"No seriously, come on." He made a show of scooting over to show she'd have room.

When the doors opened she found herself staring straight into the car. "That's my train," she said. She tried to remember if she'd actually taken her top off. People streamed out and onto the stairs and no one gave her a glance.

"You'll get the next one," he said complacently. "Pass me your phone."

Once the departing roar died down, she turned in her seat to face him. "Look," she said. The train interrupting had given her time to think. She felt a touch remorseful. She felt she'd been harder on him than she needed to. "All I'm saying is, there's ways and there's ways, you know? And this just, this isn't the way you invite a girl to give you a blowjob."

He put the phone against his chest and arched his eyebrows at her. "So what you're telling me is, you don't wanna."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not,—" and then she sighed, hard, and braked herself and thought better. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty," he said. "Kinda still getting the hang of it. I'm a late bloomer apparently."

"Well listen." She felt a certain tenderness for his youth creep into her. Or for hers: twenty was nearly fifteen years back. She glanced down at his crotch and licked her lips. "I imagine you've got a yummy cock." She sounded maybe a little sultrier than she needed to. Now that she heard it out loud though she kind of meant it.

He turned his attention back to the screen. She carried on. "It's just—" She glanced again around the now emptier platform. "In the open like this? People coming and going? It's gross." She paused. "It's degrading to the girl."

He fixed her with a level, emotionless stare. "What if that's what I like," he said blandly.

She opened her mouth but couldn't make anything come out. For the first time since they'd met he had her at a loss.

"Kidding, kidding," he said cajolingly. He grinned and pressed her phone and her top into her hands. "We barely even know each other yet."

She pouted inadvertently. "I didn't say I didn't want to," she said, sounding deflated.

He held the hand up that had the phone in it and shook it in her face. "Very important," he said, a little too loud. "I put an app on here. Messaging app, it's great, trust me. Ultra secure. Only, it's gotta lock your phone till you authenticate yourself to it."

Her eyes widened. "Are you fucking—" She wrested her arm out of his grasp. "Why would I—"

"Girl, chill, it's easy." Her patted her on the knee. "All you gotta do, go someplace where you've got some privacy, take your tits out, just like now, take a selfie. And then you just follow the screens."

She looked down at her bare breasts, then back up at him, a sour, wised-up smile on her face. "And you get your trophy," she said.

He laughed and dangled her bra between them. "This is my trophy, babe."

"What? No, hell no, give it back," she wheedled. An oncoming roar announced itself. "Come on, they'll see my nipples!"

"Why," he said, "you think they don't know you got em?"

Touche, I guess, she thought, and stuffed her phone in her pocket and struggled her blouse back on. She looked at herself and she looked very nipply indeed, but pleasantly. She had nice ones.

The train pulled in. He wasn't on the bench anymore. She stood and looked around for him, but a swirl of people coming off the stairs caught her up, and she couldn't tell if he was still there. Then she was on the train, and the train was moving, and but for the exuberant nipples her day resumed its wonted shape.