Michelle & I finished dinner at about 6:45pm. She talked non-stop about everything from the weather to politics.

There was an anxious tone in her voice when she spoke. She was probably feeling a sense of guilt & nervousness because in the past 4 hours, unbeknownst to her, I had watched her allow herself to be molested by a massage therapist & groped by a group of six guys in a bar.

On both occasions Michelle could have stopped her assailants, but on both occasions, she reluctantly allowed the molesters to continue as her body submitted to the roaming hands & fingers.

The massage therapist gave me an invitation to a party before she left our hotel room. It is being held in the outer suburbs of Sydney, an area I’m not familiar with & it’s starting in just over an hour.

“Hey honey. Let’s go for a walk this way.” I said as we were walked out of the restaurant & headed toward the train station. “It looks a bit more scenic.”

Michelle hooked her arm in mine, looked up at me & smiled as we walked in the warm mid-summer night air. Obviously feeling tipsy from the alcohol she had consumed in the past few hours, Michelle was leaning into me occasionally as she lost balance while we walked. I had to put my arm around her to keep her steady. I’m 6’1″ and she is only 5’3″ so her head rested nicely on my chest.

She was happy and chatted to me without a care in the world. She was also so distracted with her conversation, that she didn’t even notice we had walked into the train station, standing on the platform & waiting for the outer-suburbs train.

When the train arrived, Michelle looked up at me confused as we boarded. “What the… Where are we going?” She asked, “Why are we getting on a train?”

“I don’t know honey.” I said reassuring her, “We know this part of the city pretty well. I thought it might be nice to explore a bit & get a drink somewhere different.”

Michelle liked spontaneous actions & this was a nice surprise to her. She had a smile from ear to ear as we walked through the train trying to find a seat. “Man it’s crowded,” I said walking in front, “I wonder if there are any spare seats in the next carriage?”

I had just passed one of the doors as the train pulled into the next station, a couple people got off & I was lucky enough to score a seat. When I looked around to get Michelle to sit on my lap, I could see she had been pushed back down the isle by the crowd of people who just got on. There must have been some kind of football game on in the suburbs, because they were all dressed in red & white colours as they crammed into our carriage.

There were a few kids, teenagers & some middle aged guys. Michelle was about five people back from me standing at the side of the seats near the door. Even though I was only 4 or 5 metres away from her, she hadn’t seen me yet.

It felt like we were in a can of sardines as I waited for the crowd move a little. In the end, I thought I would just wait until the next stop before I tried to grab her. I also didn’t want to be that annoying wanker on the train who yells out to people.

An announcement came over the PA; “Service from Sydney to Paramatta. Next Stop is Redfern.”

Parramatta is where the party is, so we are going to be on here for at least another 40 minutes which should still get us there by 8pm, I thought to myself.

We could have got a taxi, but I figured it would have been hard to pull off the spontaneous act after giving the driver an address.

When I looked over to Michelle, I could see these two old guys in the seat she was standing next to. Both were looking out the corner of their eyes at my wife’s slim size 8 body. Her left hand held the loop handle above her, while she was using the vertical pole which divides the seats from the doorway as her other support. The pole holds the clear glass which works as a wind break for the passengers when the doors open.

With her body stretched like this, her perky A cup breasts were pressed tight into the silk fabric of her dress. Michelle had no idea how naked she looked right now. It was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra & these two lucky old guys had the best seats in the house.

The old guy closest to her moved his arm onto the armrest of the seat. His hand was now at the exact height & about an inch away from her crotch. The train rocked and moved around a lot & Michelle was being pushed from behind by the crowd as they struggled to keep their balance. Every time she got pushed forward, the dirty old pervert was able to cop a feel with the back of his hand.

His mate was staring at her body to, but she just looked straight ahead & out the window as the train pulled into the next station. Again only a few got off, but more people squeezed their way on, so I still couldn’t get to her. She was smart enough to stay where she was and held on tightly to her support handles.

The train was now so over filled; she was pressed right up against the armrest. The old guys were clearly loving the view of this hot blonde 34 year old woman standing so close.

His fingers now started to wiggle & move nearer, tracing their way around her pubic area. Michelle knew what he was doing, but she just continued to look out the window ignoring the roaming hand.

She was stuck & couldn’t move if she wanted to, as the guys hand had become more assertive. He began to pull up on the front of her dress, as the back of his hand massaged her mound with his knuckles. She started to blush, as the old master continued to maneuver her hemline up until it was released & hanging loose over the armrest.

She stood helpless in front of him, unable to move with his hand now under her dress. Michelle was still facing to the side of the train, staring out the window calmly, until suddenly her eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped.

She looked down at him annoyed, giving him a death stare like she was about to slap him in the mouth. He just looked up, into her eyes and grinned smugly. With a couple rounded movements of his elbow, he was able to change her expression from stern to breathless.

Michelle had removed her hand from the above handle and now had it resting on the man’s shoulder as she struggled to breathe.

The train was very rocky & I could see she needed to hold on to something to keep her balance. This made her powerless to stop the old master, as he continued to take advantage of her predicament.

“Next Stop; Newtown” The electronic announcement coming from the speakers was in a woman’s voice.

The train began to slow down for its next stop as more people started pushing toward the door. The old guy was smart enough to see the crowd moving. So to ensure she didn’t get swept away from him, he moved his right hand from her crotch to her waist and forcefully pulled her into the small space in front of himself and his mate.

I lost sight of them as the vacating crowd was now blocking my view. Just as many people were getting on as getting off, so I just sat and waited until the mass of bodies cleared.

The new passengers moved away from the door and settled. To add to my day’s fortune, I now had a better view of my wife through the glass as she stood facing away from me, but directly in front of the two old perverts.

A large lady with frizzy hair had sat in the seat across from me. This would seem like a bad thing, but I could use her hair to camouflage my blatant staring in case either of the guys noticed me.

Michelle’s ass was pressed into the glass divider, but as the train increased in speed, so to do the unsteady rocking of the cabin. She had nothing to hold onto for balance, and wearing 8 inch stilettos wasn’t helping her situation.

The other guy sitting near the window lent forward and held her by the right wrist, as he looked up and said something to her. It was too hard to hear because of the noise of the tracks and other people talking around me, but she looked down at him & shook her head.

Before she had even finished her refusal, the train went over a bump which he used as an excuse to pull her toward himself. Michelle was struggling hard to keep her balance now as she tried to pull her hand away, but the train was so bumpy she couldn’t keep her balance.

He yanked forcefully on her wrist, pulling it across the front of his body and forcing her to spin off balance. She fell backwards onto his lap while his other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her tight.

She tried to re-adjust her position, but these attempts only helped him straighten her up as Michelle was now sitting square on this old guy’s lap. His mate smiled and patted him on the shoulder to congratulate him.

Her face was blushed & quite red as I realized she could probably see me now. I maneuvered myself behind the woman’s frizzy hair, feeling pretty certain that I had a one-way view of this new adventure.

The arm which was wrapped around her waist continued to hold her tightly, as he talked in Michelle’s ear. The man’s other hand rested on top of her thigh, rubbing back & forth from her knee to the dress hemline. The dress was being pushed up just a little bit each time his hand made its way back towards her and I could now see the top of her thigh high stockings.

Her dress stared to bunch up at her waist, and it didn’t take too long before I could see her panties. Michelle put her left hand on top of the old guys in an attempt to stop him rubbing too close to her crotch, but he just continued to do his thing, exposing her even more as she squirmed a bit on his lap.

I watched in amazement, as he put his hand over hers and continued his rubbing, but now something was different. He started rubbing the inside of her thigh with her own hand, using her like a puppet. Slowly but surely, he moved her hand and began to guide between her legs, pulling it back carefully until it was resting on her mound.

He continued using her hand to rub, but now it was with smaller movements, more targeted at her joy spot. Michelle remained still and unsure of his intentions, as this old master pervert proceeded to press his fingers firmly down on top of hers, forcing them to place pressure on the front of her black panty clad pussy.

His wrist started to move rhythmically, putting pressure on her hand and fingers as they pressed into her crotch.

Her face was looking dreamy and she looked out the window with a distant stare trying to ignore the attention from the guy whose lap she was sitting on. The other guy had started to grope her right breast, softly pinching and teasing her nipple through the silk of her dress.

The old pervert under her; grabbed Michelle’s hand and started to guide it up over her panties towards her belly button. She looked worried & unsure of what he was making her do. Once he had moved her hand above her panty line, he pressed firmly, pushing it into her stomach and then started to slide it back down.

With this simple action, the sly old fuck had managed to slip Michelle’s fingers under the waistband of her thong. He continued pushing her hand down until it was forced completely inside her panties.

Michelle’s eyes opened wide in shock and she looked bewildered at this new development. With her own fingers now resting on her bald pussy, surprisingly he pulled his hand out and placed it back over the top of hers, but on the outside of her thong. He was still pressing slightly into the back of her hand, but inviting her to play with herself.

As the train pulled up to its next stop, he continued to hold her hand in place and using his other hand, covered it with her dress… The other guy also stopped and pulled his hand away from her breast as more passenger boarded.

Because I was so intently focused on what was happening to my wife only 5 metres away, I hadn’t even heard the announcement of which station we had stopped at.

Both of the old guys were talking to her now, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Michelle was nodding slightly & agreeing to something as they looked at each other smiling like school boys. She just looked out the window again with glazed eyes as the train continued on its way.

The old perverts wasted no time as the one on her right continued with her breast. He was a bit firmer now; massaging her A cup breast like her had been given a green light to push the boundaries. The other guy, whose lap she was sitting on, had managed to pull her dress back up, exposing her hand inside her panties.

I don’t think she had realized it yet, but the old guy was no longer helping. Her hand was now moving inside her panties independently, while his hands were now on either side of her hips, slowly maneuvering her dress out from under her. She was lost in her own world, oblivious to his movements.

I was hard as a rock watching Michelle being forced to masturbate on a crowded train. It was probably the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life, watching as she closed her dreamy eyes and softly started to bite her bottom lip.

The other man had slipped his fingers into the side of her dress under the silk fabric, working them towards her nipple. Her eyes opened briefly as she got startled when the tips of his fingers finally reached their goal He gave her another pinch and again started massaging her right breast.

Looking down at his invading hand, then over at him, she looked as though she wanted him to stop. Michelle’s left hand was preventing her from making any clear decisions at this point, as her own fingers were buried in her panties working against her will power.

The train began to slow down again the voice came over the speaker. “Next stop; Homebush.”

It was like a mass exodus when almost all the passengers got up from their seats and moved to the doors. Clearly most of the passengers were going to the football at the Olympic stadium.

I also got up and made my way through the crowd to get closer to her. The crowd was pushing hard and because I was going against the traffic. I couldn’t move far, so sought the refuge of the seat across the isle and about one row back from Michelle.

I had a better view now & could clearly see the whole scene. I could also see that the old guys hadn’t bothered to cover her modesty this time. Instead, they put her on display, leaving her exposed for the eyes of the vacating passengers. Every one getting off the train had a perfect view of my hot, 34 year old blonde wife with her eyes closed touching herself in the most explicit way.

The old perverts just smiled at the onlookers & continued to brazenly grope and fondle my wife. They were proud of their prize & justified in their actions, knowing everyone of the other passengers would have traded their tickets to swap places.

Through the window, they looked at her like she was an entertainer from an Amsterdam peep show. Some were shocked, but most of the guys gawked for as long as they could, before being pushed forward and off the train by the crowd.

The train was eerily silent & looked empty as it took off again. Michelle looked around in a distressed haze, but she couldn’t really focus on anything so turned to the front closed her eyes again. I presume she was looking for me and I know she didn’t see me.

With the train almost empty, the old guys got more daring. The one on the right continued to grope her breast with his right hand, while he reached out with his free hand and took Michelle’s right arm by the wrist.

He was twisting her wrist slightly as he pulled her hand across into his lap and onto his now exposed cock. WTF! When did he pull that out?

In all the commotion of watching Michelle stared at by no less than sixty passengers who got off at the last stop, this old pervert had managed to release his manhood. It was about 7 inches and rock hard, as he wrapped Michelle’s little fingers around it.

She didn’t do anything at first, but he held her hand there tightly and slowly began to move it up & down the length of his shaft. It didn’t take too long before he released his grip and moved his hand away, while Michelle continued to move her hand. She was now jacking him off slowly & rhythmically.

The old pervert, who owned the lap she was occupying, put his hand between her shoulder blades & pushed forward, raising her dress above her panty line. She was facing the floor and he could now see her black thong buried deep in the crack of her ass.

Michelle is only 5’3″ & too short to reach the floor in this position. Her legs dangled helplessly either side of his as one of her stiletto heels started to fall off. With her looking down and unable to use her peripheral vision, I stood up to get a better view of the action.

With his left hand resting on her back holding her dress up & in place, he used his other hand to move her thong aside. Now he could see her puckered little rosebud & the tips of her fingers working her wet pussy.

Strangely, he reached forward and put his hand over her mouth like he was trying to gag her. Then he slid his thumb between her lips & moved it around for a few seconds, forcing her to suck on it, which she did willingly.

He slowly pulled his thumb out & quite quickly moved his hand back towards her ass. Placing the slimy thumb at the entrance of her backdoor, he started to move it in circles. I could see Michelle’s hips pushing back at him as he massaged her and softly applied more pressure to the area.

Slowly his movements & her pushing allowed his thumb to penetrate her asshole as it slid in up to the first knuckle. Michelle lost her breath & gasped as he worked it in a circular motion again. Adding some more pressure, he eventually got his way, fully inserting the digit into her.

“Ooohhhhhhaaahhhh!” Michelle let out a loud gasping exhale as the old pervert began fucking her ass with his thumb. Sliding it in and out like a piston.

Her hips were grinding hard into his lap as she rubbed her clit with her left hand, not caring who was watching. Her only focus was to bring herself to climax.

The head of the other old guys cock was now turning purple as she yanked & pulled hard. He pulled his right hand away from her tit and grabbed armrest tightly. Just then, he pushed himself back into his seat and said; “Fff-ffuuuck!” He threw his head back and started to cum all over her hand, wrist and his own pants.

Faster and harder she continued to work herself, still holding the now limp dick as the two old guys became bystanders. Her hand let go & shot out in front of her, pressing hard against the glass as she reached a powerful orgasm. “Ooaahhhhh-my-god!” she squealed under her breath, “Oh-my, fuck my-god…fff!”

“You dirty old bastards.” Michelle whispered quietly as she lent back into the guy exhausted & looked at the roof. “My-oh-my, you’re a couple of dirty pervy’s… Ummm, yummm.”

As she reached down into her bag to grab some tissues to clean the cum off her hand, I snuck to the back of the carriage and opened the door. I thought it worked so well with the hotel room, I would try it again.

I pretended like I was just entering the carriage when the train started to pull into Parramatta station. I saw Michelle now standing in the isle facing away from me. The two old guys had moved to the doors at the far end ready to leave.

“Honey! I thought I’d lost you” I called out as she turned around. “Where were you?”

“Oh sweetie, I’m so glad to see you. I lost you in the mad rush.” She said, “I was lucky enough to find a seat, and I didn’t think it was smart to move around with the amount of people that crowded in.”

“Good plan. There were way too many people.” I said smiling, “I’m so sorry, I got pushed all the way into another carriage. Did you find a seat?”

“It’s fine sweetie. I found a comfy spot to sit.” She smiled & spoke in a cute playful tone. “These Sydney train lines are not very smooth though. I got bounced, bumped & poked quite a lot in my seat.”

The following events are true to the best of my knowledge and were related to me by a young female co-worker when too much alcohol at a staff function loosened her lips. Her name is Kate and she’s 27, a country girl who moved to the city to further her career and optimistically find a life partner.

Kate’s Story

The first time that I recall it happening to me was on a Tuesday evening in rush hour on the subway train that carried me daily back to my small apartment in the inner suburbs. Believe me, these subway rides were something to be experienced.

I mean, I had read about and seen pictures of the Tokyo subway system where they employed pushers to get everybody in the doors of each carriage. Well, it wasn’t quite that bad in our city, but it was nevertheless a tight squeeze and quite claustrophobic when the doors closed and you found yourself bumping into bodies all around you.

I would ride with one hand above my head, hanging on to a strap from the ceiling of the carriage and usually my other hand closed over my handbag that hung from my shoulder. I was paranoid that if I took my hand off the handbag, one of the other passengers crushed around me could reach in and rob me. An awful thought to have about my fellow travelers, but I had been warned that this is what things are like in a big city. I didn’t earn enough money to take the chance of losing some of it.

On this particular day in the middle of summer, I was wearing a light summer cotton dress, dropping to around mid thigh. As the train gathered speed after picking up even more passengers at the last city stop, I suddenly became conscious that I was being groped. I could feel fingers lightly stroking the cheeks of my arse over the cotton dress. I tried to turn my head around in the cramped conditions of the carriage, but all the bodies were wedged so tightly that I could only see to one side.

The fondling of the fingers continued unabated as I tried to determine how to handle the situation. Should I yell out at the top of my voice and above the roar of the train on the tracks, ‘Get your hand off my arse!’ Oh my God, I could hear some of my city-raised work colleagues doing that … but to this country girl, I would be so embarrassed to draw that kind of attention to myself.

I cringed and determined to try to wait it out until I got to my stop. Actually, as the fingers roamed across the lightly clothed cheeks of my arse, I decided that it wasn’t too bad. Whoever the groper was, his finger strokes were not aggressive … his touch was soft and gentle and seemed to be affectionate rather than intimidating. I found myself beginning to enjoy the experience. I tried to turn my head again, I still wanted to see the face of the person who was taking such liberties with my body.

The first stop on this line is about 15 minutes from the City so I figured that I might have to endure this intimate touching for a max of quarter-of-an-hour. But then I felt the train slowing as sometimes happens on this line. Since there were no stops yet, there must be a red signal ahead. Looks like I would have to endure the 15 minutes of fondling just blew out a bit longer.

My God, what was that? I just felt the skin of another human being on the back of my thighs. Those fingers had left my covered arse and were now just inside the bottom hem of my summer dress. No … no, this was going too far, I had to stop it now, but how?

I managed to get my head almost fully around, but there was nobody facing me, so who could it be? Who was the owner of the fingers? I certainly wasn’t imagining it, certainly not as the fingers traced lightly up over the skin of the back of my upper thigh of my right leg. That hand was now under my dress, raising it as he boldly stroked those gentle fondling fingers higher.

I tensed as his fingers reached the leg elastic of my nylon and lace panties. Oh God, what now … how far would he go (I was guessing he — surely it had to be)? The fingers had paused at the leg elastic of my panties, sort of like he was trying to decide what to do next … under or over the panties. He would have no doubt felt the tensing of my body, the clenching of my butt cheeks as I anticipated his next exploratory move.

At last, the fingers moved on, he had chosen over — rather than under – and I felt them trace across the smooth sheer nylon of my panties encasing my equally smooth arse cheek. This was far more intimate than having his fingers touching through the material of my dress. Except that I knew for sure that I was wearing panties, his fingers on the sheer nylon material felt like they could be actually touching my smooth bare skin.

Oh God, this should stop now. I had had sex with only one guy since arriving in this city, and that was when I first got here 3 months ago. Since then, my trusty vibrator had serviced my sexual needs adequately, but of course not totally fulfilling – not like having a real male organ.

I wanted to be bold and yell out ‘Stop it now!’ but the fingers were feeling really good now. Who was this guy, did he do this often? Now that he had found a non-resisting woman, would he be on the train again tomorrow night and the next night, and so on, searching me out, positioning himself to be behind me?

‘Oh no, that’s going too far,’ was my thought as I felt his thumb tracing down over the cleavage of my arse, encased as it was in the nylon and lace panties. If only I could get my hand down there to brush his away, but I needed to hang on to the strap up high as the train lurched this way and that and my other hand protected my belongings in my handbag. I even thought that it might be a ploy to get me to release my grip on the bag so he could rob me. No, I would have to let him play unhindered with my arse.

I felt some fiddling back there, it felt like my dress was being rolled up or pulled up and then I felt a roll of the material of my dress at the back of my waist. Somehow, he had rolled it up tightly enough that it hung there in the small of my back just above the slope of my arse. With my dress hiked up in back, the only covering on my arse were the flimsy pair of brief panties that hung on my hips. This was becoming awkward. I prayed for the train to speed up and get to that first station, but we were now just barely moving on the bridge that crossed the river to the inner western suburbs.

Oh God no … serious trouble now! I felt his fingers slip inside the elasticised waistband of my brief hip-hugging panties and slide down over my soft smooth skin. Oh my God, he was good at this, his touch felt wonderful, but I knew inside that I shouldn’t be enjoying this. It was wrong, he was violating my space and my body. But his fingers felt so good, so gentle, I don’t think I could recall having a man with such soft smooth fingers tracing just the way a woman likes to be touched. How could he know how to do that when so many other men didn’t?

I tried to turn again to identify the assailant. But did I want to see who it was so I could tell him to stop, or did I want to identify him to get his number, to ask him to take me out sometime?

The fingers lightly traced both soft rounded cheeks of my arse. But then that thumb again, now intimately tracing the inner crease of my butt, this time on my bare skin, not over the nylon of my panties. A strange sudden fear hit me, had I been to the toilet today? How clean was I? Oh God, fancy thinking such thoughts when this man is so intimately invading my body. Would he try to push his thumb deeper, did he want to touch the pucker of my anal ring? My head whirled with a mix of thoughts, some not so pure, you might say even carnal. Where did this come from? How was he bringing out my naughty side?

The thumb just traced up and down my crease, not daring to venture deeper, while his fingers still lightly fondled my smooth cheeks. Had we reached his limit, or would he dare to venture further? To my relief — or was it really disappointment — I had such mixed feelings … anyway, the train was now picking up speed again, heading on to that first stop where enough people would alight to remove the crush of bodies. I could be free of this man’s intrusion then … that’s if I wanted to be.

His thumb stopped stroking at my arse crease, only to be replaced by what felt like his middle finger. However, this one was insinuating itself deeper into my crease, pushing where the clench of my cheeks would resist him … well, might resist him. I clenched my butt tightly, but only for a moment, trapping his probing finger, causing it to stop, maybe having the owner of the digit perhaps think that he had reached my limit.

But then I let go, unclenching, relaxing my muscles … I knew that may imply to him that he had the freedom to push his insisting finger deeper. He accepted the challenge, it was now sliding up and down within the tight grip of my inner crease. Oh my God, he touched it — my anal entrance – and with such gentle sensitivity. No scraping, no sharp fingernail, just the pad of his middle finger rolled across the tight pucker of my anal ring, then came back to circle it.

He kept it there for a moment and I clenched my butt in response, gripping his finger against my anal ring so tightly he could not have dragged it away even if he had wanted to. What would he do now? My God, I hope he doesn’t try to push it in, I’m too dry.

The train rumbled on, now back at full speed, heading for that first suburban stop where maybe 20% of the passengers would alight. I stood rigid, frozen to the spot, kept upright by the press of bodies all around me in the crowded passenger train. Rigid and held upright also from the finger that was pushed deep inside the crease of my arse, the fingertip that pressed firmly against my anal entrance, my butt cheeks still clenched to hold it in place. I had to admit that I was now enjoying this intimate moment, it was the most excitement that I had experienced since arriving in this busy city.

The PA buzzed noisily over my head and the conductor’s voice announced, “Next stop Carlton Heights.” I unclenched at hearing the announcement of the imminent stopping of the train, expecting that this would also stop this man’s invasion of my body. I felt his finger slip from between my cheeks, then one final passing of his fingers smoothly across my naked butt cheeks and then his touch was gone.

I stood in the crush of the carriage, feeling embarrassed that I had permitted a stranger to take such liberties with my body, but then also an empty feeling of disappointment that his finger was now gone. I wondered if he would readjust my clothing, and then I felt my dress being unfurled in back and then it dropping down over my arse. But my panties were still rolled down into a tight band of material around the top of my thighs, just below my bare arse cheeks. At least my dress should cover them even if he wasn’t going to pull them back up for me.

The train eased to a halt at Carlton Heights Station and people began to leave through the now open doors, the heat of the summer day coming into the cool of the carriage air-conditioning. I turned quickly as the crush of bodies released me, trying to spot the person who had had his finger almost in my arse. I picked a guy with a close-cropped number one buzz cut, his clothes were tidy, and from the back, he looked to be around my age.

I felt it was him, even hoped it was him. I would hate it if it was some old lecher from around my father’s age, or even older, getting his jollies from touching up a young woman.

The doors closed and the train rumbled on to the next stop, my stop. I looked around at the remaining passengers still standing nearby and contemplated whether any of them could have been my mystery assailant.

I stepped off the train at my station, walking slightly differently since my panties were still rolled tightly around the top of my thighs, restricting me from stepping out. For a moment, I contemplated whether I should source out a rail employee and report the incident. Then as I passed by one, I decided that would not be necessary. I had enjoyed the experience enough not to call it a crime.

I reached home, walked in the door, went straight to my bedroom, peeling off my dress, my pussy and arse still exposed with my panties lowered. I flopped onto my bed, reached for my vibrator and gave myself a mind-blowing orgasm.

Chapter Two

I was so vigilant the next night, looking all around me, seeking to identify whether my mystery toucher was going to be in my carriage. But alas, it was an uneventful ride and I reached my station without one indecent fondle.

The same again on Thursday night!

So by Friday evening, I had almost forgotten about the events of earlier in the week. But as I was pressed further and further into the standing section of the carriage, I felt a body pressed completely against my back. Now, despite the crush, most travelers won’t stand that way … it’s just too intimate and can lead to accusations of molestation. So even though you are crushed into a carriage, you normally only feel another person side on to your front or back.

But this person was flush against me, the whole front of him against my back. As the train began to pull out of the last city station, I felt two hands on me, one on each hip, pushing my dress upward. Oh my God, he’s back, I felt a twinge of excitement shudder through me. The dress quickly slid up over my arse, and came up high in front too. He was bolder this time! He rolled the bottom half of my dress into a neat ring around my waist. My panties were now my only cover from waist to ankles.

I managed to turn my head to catch a glimpse of his face. It was a nice face, he gave me a warm smile. It was indeed the guy with the buzz cut hair. “It’s you again, isn’t it?” I said quietly to him.

“Who else could it be? How many others have touched you the way I did on this train?”

I giggled, “Yes, you’re right, only you.”

“I can use two hands this time, I could only reach one hand through between other’s bodies the other night.”

“That was alright, your one hand felt nice.” I was shocked at myself for so willingly giving my approval to what he had done so intimately to me.

“Then imagine what my two hands are going to feel like,” he said as I felt him running them both across my arse, one hand on each cheek.

“Is that your specialty?” I asked, beginning to once again enjoy his soft warm touch in the crowded carriage.

“No, my specialty is actually getting down on my knees and licking a woman’s pussy until she cums … but I can’t get down there with so many people around us.”

I giggled once more, “I would like to see you try that on a crowded commuter train.”

“Is that a challenge, because I will.”

He sounded serious, what a determined young man. I liked what I could see of him, just as I had especially liked the affectionate touch of his fingers last time. It was beginning to feel just as good now as his fingers dipped inside the back of my panties, pushing them down once more. No, hold on, it was feeling better because he was using two hands.

But to my concern, those two hands were now sliding around my hips — to the front where I was just as exposed as at the back, the panties now trapped in a thin line right at my crotch. Oh God, his smooth fingers on my bare tummy only made me push my arse back against his body where it made contact with a firm ridge that had to be his cock, fortunately still within his trousers. He hadn’t become that bold.

I subconsciously wriggled my bare arse against the hard ridge within his trousers and he used those hands on my tummy to pull me back harder against his erection. My God, I couldn’t believe how sexual a simple commuter train ride could become.

Embarrassed at where this was going so intimately in such a crowded train, I looked nervously around at my fellow passengers. To my relief, nobody seemed conscious at what was happening below my waist. One of his hands dipped lower and it sought out the top of the crease of my outer labia lips … he was dangerously close to my clitoris. I gasped loudly at his intimate touch and again looked around nervously, hopeful that I had not been loud enough to draw attention.

His finger slid downward and stroked along my outer lips to the bottom where it indented enough to press at the opening of my vagina. I gasped again, I couldn’t believe how bold he was becoming. Yet this was the man who had almost had a finger up my arse the first time.

He dragged the finger back up again and boldly slipped under the hood that was supposed to cover my sleeping clitoris. A couple more finger slides down and back up along my swelling labia lips and he declared, “You’re getting wet!”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” I answered, my eyelids drooping and thankful that the people in front and to the sides of me were turned away, presenting their backs to me. My body swayed as his fingers stirred my arousal quickly, then returned to pounce on my budding clit that now felt hard and exposed.

I felt a trembling in my lower body as his fingers stirred my passion. Where had his other hand gone? There seemed to be some fumbling behind me – at my arse and then I felt hard human skin pushing at the crease of my arse cheeks. That definitely wasn’t his hand. My God, that was his cock! He had opened his trouser fly on this crowded train and released his erection and it was pushing between the tight cheeks of my arse. Because of his height above mine, the cock-head was angled downward so that as he pushed into my arse crease, I actually felt its very wet tip touch my anal ring.

“I don’t think so,” I tried to say firmly, half turning my head.

“Ssshh! It’s okay, I’m not going to do it this time, you’re a bit too short,” he whispered in my ear. “But I did one night, on this train. The woman was just a touch taller than me, she was about 5-11 and I had some lube with me, in my pocket. Before she knew it, I had pressed my cock beyond her sphincter and she was impaled on it. It was unbelievable … so tight inside her and we were so tightly wedged in by all these other people.”

“My God, what did she do … what did she say?”

“Well, there wasn’t much she could do about it, she couldn’t go anywhere, couldn’t get away from me. But she didn’t say much. I guess it was just as well that I picked a woman that must have been into anal sex. She seemed to enjoy it.”

“I can’t believe that you would try something like that … you know, like on a crowded train.”

“I get my kicks from this … you know, a lot of people find it exciting to do it in dangerous places, like running the risk of getting caught.”

I had so many questions to ask him, and so little time to do it. Even while we were talking, his fingers never let up, rolling around and around my clitoris, then occasionally two fingers dipping down lower and slipping right up inside me, expertly working my g-spot. I felt deep throbbing down there, just like the intense feelings that my vibrator stirred … only much better.

I asked another question, “Did you cum … with that woman, I mean … you know, like in her arse?”

“Yes, I sure did … I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. It was so tight up her arse and I was thrusting it harder and harder. I’ll bet the people around us were pushed and shoved by our bodies, because we couldn’t keep still. When I came, I buried my lips in her neck, I might have even bitten her to keep from calling out. That’s how good it felt!”

His story was quite arousing, but even more so were his fingers. I could feel my whole body trembling now. It became obvious to me that I was about to cum too. Oh, how embarrassing was this going to be … but still I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t hold myself back. I wanted this so badly, and I felt some exhilaration too from letting this stranger do me in a crowded train carriage.

September 2018
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