I sometimes don't know whether it really happened or whether it was a dream. The flashing lights of the tunnel walls as the subway train rockets past make the entire memory surreal. I am standing as usual, clutching the strap and swaying slightly to keep my balance. My fellow commuters stare blankly into space and I feel in the slack muscles of my face my own vacuous expression. There is a bovine placidity and sameness to this routine. We are cattle, transported from barn to pasture to barn, day in and day out. I am sick of this unending boredom and pray for something, anything, to happen to defibrillate us all into coming back to life.
Each time the train sways or rounds a bend, the man clutching the strap behind me bumps gently into my back. His body is firm and somehow more real, more solid, than everything around me. I begin to realize that his movements are more...intentional...than the movement of the train would suggest. My knee-jerk reaction is to want to turn around and glare at him. Pervert. But there is something pleasant about the rythmic thump of his weight against me and I close my eyes briefly, savoring for a moment the touch of another human being.
The lights stream past the windows of the train, alternately illuminating and obscuring the riders as if they are the subjects of a time-lapse photography experiment.
The man is rocking harder against me. I begin to discern the distinct sensation of something rigid pushing against my ass. My eyes fly open as I realize that the hardness is his erect cock. But instead of moving quickly away, like any good cow, I find myself pushing my ass back against him. There are so many people on the train that our closeness goes unoticed. He has placed a hand on my hip and is subtly grinding his cock against my ass. I can't believe I'm allowing this. Have I gone crazy? Or am I so starved for something, something unidentifiable, that it compels me to allow this man to continue?
I am wearing a short skirt and I am acutely aware that the man is now running his hand up my bare thigh and under the hem of my skirt. I'm about to turn around and stop this when suddenly the train lurches to a halt and we are plunged into darkness. The man and I are able to keep our balance and his cock is still pressed firmly against my backside. There is relative calm in the train car – this happens sometimes. We know we only have to wait a few moments before the power will be restored and we will begin moving again. The man knows this too and takes advantage of the opportunity.