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The Victoria Line

Teasing on the tube

  At 830am the Victoria line becomes an industrial people movement machine, not a remotely pleasant way to travel. As the train hummed down the platform towards me it was evident that it was going to be a hot, tightly-packed journey. As a tall man this holds a particular discomfort for me: I have to keep my head bent down to fit in the sloped ceiling and whilst my blue cashmere overcoat was appropriate for the weather outside, the carriage was going to be hard work.

I stepped onto the train and shuffled forward looking for a space to stand. By the time the train set off, the throng of commuters on the platform had found a way to squeeze onto the already packed carriage. Despite the numbers nobody murmured or made eye-contact we all just huddled about as we always had to. Directly to my left was a grey-haired man off about 50, to my right was a guy I took to be an Aussie backpacker, in front of me with her back to me was an Asian girl probably around 24 and 5'4 with noticeably rounded, pert buttocks. Besides noting this, around me was the usual sea of suits and unattractive middle aged ladies struggling to read paperbacks.

As the train jerked forward I felt the girl's back and arse against my front. I made a mental note to myself to rein myself in, after all I'm not a pervy Japanese salaryman riding the subway with the intention of groping schoolgirls. As the train continued she remained pressed against me. Then I noticed that whilst there was not much room on the train, the only space that I could see, was in front of her. If she stepped forward we'd both have more room. I looked down, her cute arse was pressed against my lap and her torso was shielded by my unbuttoned coat. As the train accelerated I felt her body against mine and as it slowed she gently moved away.

I considered the situation. Perhaps she was no observer of the typically English social rule; that whilst a confined space means we can't have as much personal space as we'd like (miles), we should avoid touching at almost all costs. Either way, I could sense that the feeling of her firm arse on my crotch was making me hard. I bit my cheek to take my mind off the sexual charge. But my desire was increasing, I looked down at her jet black hair, the way her body was inclined into mine and I could smell the sweet, vanilla perfume that she wore. Was she enjoying this feeling of teasing me? Did she even realise she was? This was a sweet anguish, I imagined her pussy moistening beneath a thong, perhaps she was turned on by teasing me surrounded by all these strangers.

I had my answer when stationary at Warren Street I felt her grind against me, and did I hear an almost imperceptible squeak from her? Even in this close proximity, everyone else's head was up, they could not see the fun we were having. As the train rumbled on she pressed hard into me, my cock was hard, I knew she could feel it pushing into her. She moved her arse in deep circular movements so my cock was pressed against her pussy. She was getting herself off in front of all these people but nobody knew. She was so controlled now not making a noise, but leaving me powerless.

My new torture was having to get off the train. The next stop was mine and I was going to lose this delightful minx forever and have to step into the press of commuters in Euston with my hard-on obvious for all to see and feel. As we slowed down pulling into Euston I slipped my business card into a pocket of her tight grey trousers. I wrapped myself in my coat as best I could to prevent any obvious prods into the back of some unsuspecting businessman. As the doors opened I dived onto the first available bench tasting blood in my mouth from my futile attempts at self-distraction and took some deep breaths.


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