Maybe I Just Imagined It

At first she thought his touch was accidental, for who actually does get groped on their way home from work? But when he'd closed a palm around her butt and cupped a cheek, she almost yelped in shock at how unexpected it was. Thinking back now, she should have said something immediately. Surrounded by people on the train, she would have had ample support, but instead she had glanced back in shock, taken one look into his dark eyes and then hung her head to hide her burning cheeks as she shuffled away through the press.

She hadn't gotten far, hemmed in as she was and her only exit cut off when he stepped closer, blocking her escape. Her eyes darted everywhere looking for aid but as was typical in the city, everyone was occupied either by their own thoughts or by folded newspapers clutched at weird angles in the crowd. She felt trapped, suddenly claustrophobic as his body lined itself against her.

For a minute she felt nothing, but then out of nowhere the hem of her dress tugged, and his fingers lightly touched her thigh.

Instinctively she reached back, batting his hand away, but he simply pressed it back, his digits stroking her skin.

She wanted to call out, but inside she quailed, unable to fully get to grips with what was happening, furthermore there was an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach that she understood to be pleasure. At first pushing his hands away was enough to keep him from doing anything more than running his hands along her thighs, but he became more persistent in his exploration and slowly his hands made their way upwards, so that he could stroke her arse beneath the thin knickers she wore. She tried clutching his wrist and forcing his hands away, then she gripped the hem of her skirt and tried vainly to hold it in place. But always he thrust her hands away like they were moths brushing against him annoyingly and continued as if nothing had happened. Now she felt his other hand on her waist, pulling her to him and she desperately fought to get away.

The train lurched on its track and she collided with the man in front who glanced back angrily before returning to tapping away on his phone and she almost keened in despair. Never before had she been so crowded by people but so utterly alone. It was unbelievable to think that nobody had caught her eye and seen the plea concealed behind.

Despite her silent protests, her efforts to stop him were futile. She resigned herself to clutching desperately at his wrists while he did as he wished and hoping desperately for her stop to arrive. When the train pulled into the next platform she seized the opportunity to get away when a group of passengers exited. She couldn't get off but with any luck she could find a spot further away, but unbelievably the space was replaced almost immediately by more people, as ignorant and unhelpful as the last. Regardless of her best efforts she was pushed back towards him, the cramped space in the carriage suddenly more oppressive than ever.

He had really only been toying with her before, but as the stations between hers ticked steadily away, her resistance crumbled. It was impossible to defend all possible fronts, for when his fingers had found the slight parting of her thighs where they have way to her buttocks, and forced themselves between her tightly clamped legs, her reflex at pushing away his arms left her front completely unguarded. In an instant he adapted to the situation, whipping his arms round her and grasping roughly at the soft mound between her legs. Once more she grabbed his wrists but his fingers clawed at her, an index digging beneath the elastic of her underwear, the nail pinching her clit painfully.

When she finally succeeding in dragging his hands from her pants, he merely forced her against the vertical handhold and ground himself against her.

Then she felt it. Somehow, at some point, he must have taken 'it' out, for she felt it's heavy weight almost 'thwack' against the back of her thigh, and hold there, hard against her. She felt too how, when first slapping against her, a strange sensation was left on her skin, that now it cooled she understood to be a wet 'something'.

All of a sudden, the cry of some completely unknown emotions, that which had built in her for so long burst from her in a startling 'nnnuuhnn' sound, which wasn't completely covered by the bell of the doors opening at her station. As people immediately made for the door, glancing back with minimal interest at the strange girl who just screamed 'nnnuuhnn', she tugged to be free and suddenly found that he was no longer holding her. Not caring to look back to see if he had casually assumed a vacant expression like the rest of the passengers, nor even considering to turn and scream her accusations, she tore from the carriage, not caring about the disgruntled cries from the people she had barged.