Frottage
Some years ago when I was still young and sexually appealing, the concept or idea of being pushed against or touched inappropriately on public transport really didn’t appeal to me at all; in fact I was disgusted. However, with the passage of time and as gravity challenged my body more, the idea wasn’t too bad at all; in fact at times I actually wished that someone would rub against me.

I take the tube train in to work and there was a man who used to sit opposite me just about every day. He was a handsome fellow in his mid-forties, I guessed. Every morning we would exchange greetings and sit lost in our thoughts and occasionally smiling at each other. He was always well-groomed and impeccably dressed and had the most wonderfully engaging smile which was almost bewitching. One morning I was running ten minutes later than normal and was feeling a little sad that “my” man was missing. The carriage was packed to capacity and I was xxxxxx to stand on the periphery of the throng. When the train stopped at the next station and the door opened, he was the first person to board and was xxxxxx to come and stand behind me.

I moved forward slightly to allow him some room and when I did so, he simply shifted closer behind me so that his body was pushed hard up against my rear. He was close enough for me to get a good whiff of his aftershave which was almost as good as his perfectly-tailored suit. His brand was one of my favourites, (English Leather) and smelling it caused a frisson of excitement to pulse through my body. He normally carried a briefcase but this morning, his hands were empty. We were about ten minutes into the trip when I felt one of his hands on my ample rump. I could not resist giving a slight wiggle to indicate my acceptance of where his hand was placed. As the train moved, so too did the throng of passengers some of whom glanced around irritably at the person behind them. We were all so closely packed that no-one would be able to see any indecent touching and feeling and it didn’t take long for “my” man to become a lot more adventurous with his hands. I could feel his fingers searching for the elastic of my panties through the relatively thick fabric of the tweed skirt I was wearing but because I seldom if ever wore panties, there was no way that they were going to find what they were searching for.

His right hand then began to gently stroke my butt while his left one had gone around to the front of my body, lifting the bottom of my blouse up while his fingers searched for my nipple. When they located the underside of my somewhat pendulous breast they hesitated briefly when he realized that I was not wearing a brassiere and that he was touching naked flesh. At the next lurch of the train, he cupped my breast fully in his hand and began rolling the erect nipple between his fingers, while his pelvis pushed forcefully against my butt. I could feel that he was very, very erect and obviously aroused because he was breathing quite heavily. I couldn’t believe that I was being groped by an anonymous stranger in a crowd of faceless, unknown people and I was enjoying the attention I was getting.

I was sorely tempted to reach behind me and rub his cock for him but I didn’t and instead wiggled my rump harder against him, causing my stranger to give a series of quick, hard thrusts against me. Because of my intimate knowledge of the route, I knew that we had a very short distance to go before we reached the last stop. He was rolling my nipple quite roughly between his fingers, giving it rather painful squeezes each time he thrust his pelvis against me. This was not just a case of train frottage but rather public groping which had caused this woman to get very aroused and my pussy was soaked by the time the train pulled into the last station.

When we disembarked, our eyes made contact briefly and I was surprised when my stranger had the audacity to wink at me and smile, as if to say thanks for the experience. My mind was a blur as I walked the two city blocks to get to the bank where I worked. I simply couldn’t understand what had possessed me to allow the stranger to grope me the way he had and most of all the fact that I had become as intensely aroused as I did. Who was the pervert in this case? The stranger or the little, mature woman who worked in a bank doing a very mundane and boring job?

The next morning, I made sure to get up and dressed earlier so that I could get my normal seat. I purposely wore a short skirt which I knew was a contravention of the bank’s dress code but my mission that day, was to give the stranger something to look at. As I stood on the platform awaiting the arrival of my train, I saw my stranger approaching. He greeted me with a smile and a very curt but respectful “Good Morning.”

I took my favourite seat next to the window and he seated himself opposite me which was exactly where I wanted him. He took a newspaper out of his briefcase and feigned reading it, I say feigned because as he opened it, I noticed that his eyes were inspecting my legs with an element of naked lust in them. I put my plan into action and parted my legs sufficiently wide for him to get a good glimpse of my naked, hairy sex. The sight obviously had an impact on him because he made a point of placing his briefcase on his lap to conceal his crotch. As soon as the train pulled off, he stopped reading the paper and put it on the seat next to him while his eyes remained riveted on my parted legs. Having him stare at my exposed crotch had the desired effect on me too and five minutes into the trip, I was exceedingly wet. He must surely have noticed my arousal and the fact that my nipples were proudly erect because his eyes went from my chest to my parted legs repeatedly. We carried out this little charade of ours for the next three days until once again we both were late for the train and had to stand in the carriage like cattle.

My stranger made sure to get a place behind me again and on this occasion wasted no time to get his groping procedure going. He had placed his briefcase between his legs and within minutes of departure I felt his hand go under my blouse to get to one of my chunky nipples. I sighed contentedly as he teased and rolled it in his fingertips and wiggled my rump suggestively and coquettishly against his groin. His erection was very evident and seconds later I felt his free hand exploring my naked buttock flesh.

I loved the attention and burnt with desire to reach back and feel his cock especially when he ran his finger lightly down my crack from the top right down to where he could feel my bush starting. As he fingered that very sensitive area, his pelvic thrusts became more and more ardent and persistent. His breath was hot in the nape of my neck and my ear; he whispered softly, “You enjoying this?” I answered by pushing back harder against his probing finger which was just at the entrance of my wet vagina. I shuddered with delight as the stranger pushed his finger deeper into me until I could take the teasing no longer and reached back to fumble with the zipper in his trousers. It slid down easily and I was able to get my hand inside his briefs and onto his hard, pulsing manhood. As soon as I had a grip on it, I felt the shaft give a powerful twitch and multiple spasms as he ejaculated into my hand. It was all over quicker than it had started and all I was left with was a very messy hand and a feeling of overwhelming embarrassment that I had allowed this to happen and that I had chosen a premature ejaculator.