My Underground Tube Experience

Back in my early twenties I caught the underground each day to one of the inner Greater London suburbs where I worked.

I had been travelling to my new place of work there for about a couple of months before I experienced my tube molestation.

It occurred over three consecutive days and I have to rather shamefully admit I was the one who encouraged my abuser.

One morning having boarded the tube, and thirty or so minutes into the journey one station away from my stop, I felt a wandering hand around the front of my trousers. I thought nothing of it at first as by now the carriage had become packed tight with commuters and we were all well and truly pressed against each other, never-the- less!

On the second morning’s journey at the same station prior to mine, I again felt an explorative hand around my trouser zipper. I was wearing boxer type pants on this day so my cock was freer.  My abuser’s searching fingers soon discovered this as his fingers felt my stiffening shaft responding within my trousers.

I remember quietly and defiantly whispering, “come on then”, which he must have heard for he abandoned his tentative approach. Spurred on, his now confident fingers found my swollen head through the trouser fabric and gave it several hard squeezes and good rubbing around it.  I felt close to coming but thankfully at this point the train entered into my station.  I look up to face him as I went to pass him, I glimpsed a pleased sardonic smiling expression on a hardened face, then felt firm open fingers clench my left buttock giving me a hard parting squeeze as I pushed past his protruding belly.

To my utter surprise the same encounter occurred again on the third day. No sooner had he boarded the train at his station - one away from mine, he managed to ease his way through to where I was.  And, before I knew it I felt and heard my fly zipper being undone.  The sound of each cog slowly being released seemed to echo in my ear and I felt sure others around could hear it too.  I got such a giddy erotic sensation from that that my cock had already stiffened by the time he undid me and, before he had managed to thrust his hand in I was already ejaculating. 

As his fingers freely groped my genitals I had my eyes closed muttering, “too late, its’ too late”.  My head was swimming with emotion; the train was rocking back and forth and the wheels were intermittently screeching, tightly packed bodies were swaying with the motion and I was wondering whether other commuters around us were aware of what was taking place and could they smell my cum?  The whole scenario was absolutely surreal.  Finally he slipped his hand in underneath my shorts running his fingers over my dripping head and rubbing my stiff shaft.  Then, as yesterday at that point the train thundered into the station and he casually withdrew his hand wiping it against my trousers as he did so.

As I left I glanced up at him and saw again that sardonic smile and heard his whispered tone “ you’re mine now”.

Well, I never became his, as that was the last time I travelled to work by train.  Mother had given me her old car and from that day on I drove to work.

I was early in the office that morning and so had time to go to the toilet, remove my cum soaked shorts wash them in soapy water and clean my trousers and myself up.  Spent the day commando ( which rather thrilled me).

The memory though of that experience is still very vivid in my mind, and I do sometimes regret that I had not continued catching the train. Where would it have led to?