A Gentleman on a Train

Sharon had heard of people being molested on the train. For that matter she'd even been groped herself, both on the station and on the train. It was just one of the hazards a young woman had to watch out for.

But a full on indecent assault in the middle of a crowded train with a hundred or so people packed into the carriage? She wouldn't have believed it possible.

It had been a hot day and Sharon had dressed for the weather. In the office she might need to be smartly turned out but as far as she was concerned there was no way she was travelling on the train in her work clothes. After work she'd shed her official suit and donned a shift; far more appropriate for this sort of weather.

The train before hers had been cancelled with apologies. Defective air conditioner in the driver's cabin, or something like that. This meant that, instead of being at the front of the platform and almost guaranteed a seat, she was standing on the platform behind a host of passengers.

The train pulled in and Sharon found herself swept forward with the crowd and jammed aboard in a large, hot, sweaty throng.

You may have noticed in some trains that there is a single seat tucked just around from the doors, usually labelled with a tag saying this seat should be given to elderly or handicapped passengers. Sharon didn't actually get that seat, but she was jammed into the space immediately in front of it.

The train started with a jerk and someone bumped hard against Sharon. She had no room to move her feet and found herself suddenly sitting on the lap of the man who had claimed that single seat.

Red faced, Sharon struggled to her feet, apologizing profusely. She'd barely managed to stand when she was bumped again and sitting again.

Before she could struggle to her feet again, an arm went around her waist.

"Listen, woman," growled the passenger. "Instead of spending the journey falling onto me every five minutes why don't you just sit on my blasted knee and don't move. It'll be simpler for both of us."

Embarrassed, Sharon found that the man's solution did make sense. The train was so crowded that the space she had been occupying had already been filled. Any attempt to stand would only result in her being knocked down again.

After a few moments, the man spoke to her again.

"I trust you don't mind if I read the newspaper?" he drawled.

He reached around her, opening the newspaper across her lap and commenced reading. Sharon found herself also reading it as the train proceeded on its way.

Sharon was taken by complete surprise when the man's hand moved off the paper and ducked under it, landing on her leg. To her amazement, under the cover of the newspaper he ran his hand up her leg, sliding it under her shift and laying claim to her mound.

Sharon's immediate reaction was to try to stand, but the crowded condition of the carriage neatly prevented this. Her second reaction was to try to push his hand away, but he determinedly ignored her tugging on his arm, continuing to stroke her through her panties.

"Will you stop that?" she hissed, turning her head to glare at him.

"No," came the smiling reply. "You'll either have to make a fuss or put up with being teased for a while."

Sharon cringed internally. Make a fuss and tell everyone that the man who's knee she was sitting on was groping her? She'd rather die. If she had to she'd put up with his touch until she could get up and away. And then she'd kick his shin so hard he'd be limping for a week.

Swearing to herself, Sharon endured, feeling fingers running up and down her mound, lightly scratching her labia through her panties. She flinched when a finger darted under her panties, running along her slit and slipping between her lips.

With a sense of relief Sharon found that the man had moved his hand away from her, but a nagging itch of something wrong was causing her to fret. What had changed?

Sharon found out when fingers came dancing back along her pussy. They were now running over her naked flesh. The swine had eased her panties to the side leaving her mound completely exposed. Sharon twisted and tried to pull away, but his hand was holding her firmly in place.

There was another new element as well. At first Sharon had though it was his arm that was pressing against her but suddenly realised with a sense of horror that the man had managed to release his cock and his erection was pressing up between her legs.

If Sharon had had qualms about making a fuss when he was just playing with her panties they were quite small to the feeling of horror she felt at the thought of yelling out that this man is rubbing his cock against me. She'd just die of embarrassment.

Swearing softly, Sharon flung little dagger looks over her shoulder, unfortunately totally failing to wound the man laughing at her. Things couldn't get much worse, she thought.

She was wrong. The train lurched to the side as it crossed some points, being switched to another line. At the same time the man lifted Sharon and let her sink down again.

Sharon's eye went wide in shock. He wouldn't. He couldn't. It turned out he could and would. The head of his erection was pressing firmly between her lips and Sharon was slowly sinking onto his shaft. She tried to get her feet under her to make an effort to pull away, but the lurching train just tossed her straight back onto his lap. Worse, it forced her down onto his cock and she could feel it creeping steadily up inside her.

What the hell was she to do now, wondered Sharon. A glance around showed that no passengers had noticed anything out of the ordinary. No-one was looking at them, but this bastard had taken his cock and shoved it up her.

What does he hope to achieve, she wondered. He can't really start humping me in the middle of the carriage or everyone will notice and I'll start screaming and the hell with being embarrassed.

What he intended to do, it turned out, was nothing. He just sat there, holding Sharon firmly placed on his erection. It took Sharon a minute or two to work out exactly what was going on.

They sat in the train as it went its way. They sat in that rocking, trembling, vibrating train as it went its way, and it seemed to Sharon that each bump, each rocking motion, every single vibration was being carried up that blasted cock inside her and into her pussy.

Sharon could feel heat rising within her, stirring her up, igniting her senses. Sharon bowed her head, not daring to look up in case someone saw the look on her face. One glance and they would know what was happening to her. She clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself gasping or squealing.

The train went on its way. Twenty minutes until the first major stop where passengers would start to disembark. Was she going to have to ride like this for the full twenty minutes?

It turned out it didn't really matter. Sharon had her first climax after ten minutes, the whole train acting as a vibrator designed to help the man's cock pleasure her. She was shaking from the aftermath of pleasure when she heard a voice whisper in her ear.

"That's one."

On they rode. Sharon was prepared to swear that the man's erection was growing with each passing mile. All she was aware of was this cock inside her, filling her and bringing her unwanted pleasure.

Sharon was barely in time to jam her hand into her mouth when her second climax struck, hurriedly trying to stifle a scream.

She swore softly when a voice calmly whispered "That's two. Responsive little thing, aren't you?"

The miles seemed to pass so very slowly, each one of them bringing its own unique vibrations, all of which seem to be carried up a rigid shaft and into Sharon's pussy.

Then came a whispered, "Time's up," and Sharon felt a sudden flooding within her, the hot gush enough to send her over the edge for a third time.

A hand came wandering around her pussy, tugging at her panties and adjusting her dress.

"Three to one," laughed a voice in her ear. "I guess you won."

A few minutes later the train pulled into the station and Sharon hauled herself determinedly to her feet and out of the carriage, not looking back.

There was an odd aftermath to that little contretemps. Another train was cancelled (mouse in the driver's cabin) and Sharon found herself in another crowded train. Determinedly not looking towards where that single seat was she held tight to an overhead strap.

"Why not relax a bit and sit on my lap," she heard a soft voice suggest.

Sharon flicked a glance towards what she privately considered the seat of doom. He was sitting there, looking at her with a bland smile on his face.

She quickly looked away. Then she became conscious of how her feet hurt. And she'd have to stand for twenty minute before the first stop and even then she might not get a seat. She flicked another glance towards him and then turned away, biting her lip.