The Commuters

On the tip of my tongue were the words “fuck off, pervert”; not particularly lady-like but it usually has the required effect. However from the corner of my eye the frotteur looked slightly interesting if somewhat different.

As usual the underground train was squashed with the ‘sardines’ that made up the commuters of the early morning rush hour. Packed so tightly that one could hardly breathe, and if one did it was air that carried so much halitosis and stale sweat that it was almost possible to see it in a toxic cloud.

Either this guy was horny or he carried a packed-lunch in his pants to keep it warm, and he was trying to share the meal with my ass. My thin summer dress and tiny panties were no barrier to the warmth that his cock exuded. No accidental bumping of two bodies in crowded carriage; he meant for me to feel his erection pressed right where he no doubt dreamed it would go if he ever got me alone.

I turned my head but kept my ass against his crotch. Not as tall as I in my heels, balding and wearing shades, at first guess I would say around fifty years old. Not strikingly handsome but none-the-less appealing in a strange kind of way dressed as he was in a city suit. I glared at him but he face remained expressionless and his cock continued to rake my ass up and down. Deciding to let him continue to see just where this situation would go, I turned back to face the passenger in front of me, a girl of around eighteen years of age, whose personal hygiene was appallingly lacking.

The paraphilic had become bolder so that his thrusts almost overbalanced me as I was unable to move my feet forward. Moving my hips as far forward as the crowd allowed I bumped my butt back sharply in an effort to force him back but he took it as a positive sign and so encouraged, his hands gripped my hips and he pumped his cock all the harder at my butt. An unexpected consequence of thrusting forward my hips was that my crotch impacted on that of the eighteen year old in front of me and it elicited an “mmm” and a broad smile from her. I wondered if I was the only one thus far this morning that hadn’t woken up horny.

Other passengers around us seemed intent on their own person situations; reading novels, newspapers, work files and otherwise occupying their thoughts. Only my young neighbour was unoccupied other than now smiling sweetly up into my eyes and moving somewhat closer.

It was impossible to see just how this situation could develop further with any positive benefit to any of those involved. The guy could cum in his pants I guessed but I wasn’t prepared to allow such a selfish conclusion. If I was party to his weird masturbation then I was determined to get some enjoyment too.

To this end I winked at my newly acquired and smelly girlfriend, and with a struggle turned to face the “by proxy” masturbator. His face fell as I robbed him of the “anvil” that was my ass upon which the “hammer” of his cock had been falling but his face returned to normal as he felt my gloved hand grasp at the satisfyingly hard lump in his pants.

Our eyes locked as I fumbled for his zip, and I prepared to remove a glove to improve purchase but he stopped me indicating that a gloved hand would make the experience even better; this guy was kinky. Finally the zip yielded enough for me to insert two fingers into the fly in search of what I honestly imagined would be an inconsequential bit of flesh wrapped in a length of plastic tubing or some other aid to phallic proportions. In fact his cock flipped into my hand and wow it was suddenly my birthday. Unfortunately I couldn’t see it but fortunately my hands are well practised in the art of holding and manipulating the hard, hot flesh of a male on heat and this guy was hung. I have long, slim fingers but I was only just able to encircle his staff and when I used a stretched thumb and little finger as a make-shift measure, which I know will reach nine inches, it just about stretches from base to tip. This guy’s tool is something that a girl only gazes at in porn videos and pictures but never dreams she will hold.

As I began finally to stroke this meat the eighteen year old squeezed from behind me so that she was now beside both the guy and me, at her gasp I looked at her face, her eyes were bright and a look of wonderment spread across her face. I released the hard flesh from my gloved hand into her insistent hand and she grasped it tight. Not a word was said between us as the guy removed her hand and insisted that I grip him again with the nylon of the gloved hand. She looked crestfallen but stayed transfixed as I pumped the long, thick hardness.

The continuing crush made it difficult for me to stroke as I wanted on this gorgeous member and my new girlfriend became increasingly agitated until finally, dropping to her knees she grabbed the guy’s cock from my grasp and pulled it to her mouth. To my disappointment the frotteur didn’t complain or insist that the tool was returned to my grasp but began to enjoy what appeared an expert assault by the girl who seemed not to have eaten in a week.

If I thought that my part was over, the hand pushing my thighs apart and insistent fingers clawing at my panties seeking out my pussy renewed my interest. Looking up from the girl’s head bobbing vigorously back and forth my eyes met those of the guy still pressed to me, they told me nothing but that he was determined to extract all that he could from having found two willing females to share his weird pastime.

In order to stop the fingers that were scrabbling at my pussy from injuring me, I took the hand and indicated by movements under my control what I wanted it to do to give me pleasure. The frotteur settled on rasping his thumb over my clitoris while grazing his knuckles up and down labia that were aiding his pleasure and mine by becoming soaked in my vaginal juices. Then another set of digits joined his, this time delicate small fingers unlike the fat stubby finger already there. I stroked the girl’s hair and she grunted on the guy’s cock in response.

The two sets of finger seemed to work in unison as if to a well establish script; the fat fingers now concentrated on fucking deep into my begging tunnel while the delicate, cool fingers demonstrated that they new just what a girl needs and deftly massaged my swollen lips and spent just the right amount of time teasing the bruising my clitoris.

Inevitably my temperature rose, the carriage felt as if it was on fire, so hot I became. No longer could I control my breathing and I heard from my mouth the noises that were so familiar to me at times of utter capitulation to my carnal desires… uh uh uh mmmmnnnnoooh… oooh goddddd yesss yesss… then that sensation which, no matter however many times it hits me, never fails to surprise and please me… it starts at the base of my spine, yet also at my pussy… and I grabbed at the fingers on my clitoris pressing them hard to it to reinforce their actions. Then the tsunami of sexual pleasure/pain swept over and through my entire body as a climax hit me. I delighted as contractions gripped and released both my pussy and anus and continued to the depths of my being.

Finally I am able to open eyes that the intense pleasure had caused to shut tightly and see for the first time a smile on the guy’s face. The girl is now standing again, albeit licking from her lips cum, her reward for a successful blow job; she smiles triumphantly, takes my hand, raises it to her lips and kisses it. “Thank you honey” she whispers.

At the next stop I watch the pair, hand in hand skip across the station platform, giggling at yet another successful early morning’s ride on the underground.

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