She noticed him standing as she made a last gasp lunge through the closing doors as the train readied itself to leave the station. Subconsciously she'd expected him to move backwards as she moved into the space directly facing him and later remembered being slightly unnerved when he did not. Being a seasoned traveller on the London Underground she was well practiced in avoiding eye contact with all passengers, no matter how many were squeezed together in a carriage, but straight away she could feel his eyes on her. Not quite daring to meet his stare she attempted to recall what he looked like based on her fleeting glance as she entered the carriage. Handsome, quite tall, dark hair with a stubble he was certainly her type, probably everyone's type.
As the train bumped its way along the line she started to feel more comfortable with the position she found herself in. She allowed herself to drift with the moment and enjoy the sensation of her body against his. She had no idea if he was even fully conscious of their proximity to one another, or he just had a different definition of personal space, but she had already begun to fantasise that this was a shared experience. One they both wanted.
She was beginning to feel turned on, her nipples were hard and she could feel her heart rate increasing. When the announcement came that the train was about to enter a station she barely noticed. It was only when he finally moved and began to edge towards the door that she realised that this was where he would be getting off. Disappointed she edged herself to one side to give him some space and took the opportunity to look directly at him. She half expected that he would meet her gaze, as an attractive woman, she was used to having a particular effect on men, so it was something of a surprise that he seemed to be looking past her, only focusing on leaving the train. It had just been her imagination after all.
But then she felt a hand take hers, it was him. He'd reached for her as he was moving past her, towards the train door There was enough force in his pull on her hand to ask her a question, but not enough to take away her ability to choose what to do next.
She let him lead her off the train and onto the platform. The feeling that she was doing something completely out of character scared and excited her simultaneously. As they began to make their way along the platform towards the exit he squeezed her hand gently. Somehow this was enough to reassure her that she would be safe with this man, that he wouldn't hurt her.
Just before they reached the escalator that would carry them up to street level, he spoke;
"Do you want me?"
She hesitated before replying but was sure of her answer;
"Yes"
"What's your name?"
Surprising herself slightly she turned to look at him and said;
"I'm not telling you, I don't want to know your name either."
"Ok, I live a few minutes walk from here."
With that he let go of her hand and walked slightly ahead. Leading the way, regaining control. She liked it, she followed.
Once they'd passed through the turnstiles and out into the street she began to really sense the anticipation of what was to become. She'd never done anything like this before, she was nervous but there was no way she was backing out now. She wanted to fuck him, wanted to be fucked by him.