When I was about twenty years of age, I used to commute to the centre of London using the London Underground ('The Tube') and work on various construction sites. In those days, I wore running shoes ('trainers') with jeans, a tee shirt and a bomber jacket. I was pretty fit, muscular (I went to the gym four nights a week) and standing at six foot tall, I would venture that I was presented as, all in all, quite a good looking guy!
I was waiting on the underground platform at a central London station, taking a typical autumn journey home from the centre of London to the outer suburbs, a journey of twenty odd stops which took about an hour. When the train rolled into the station, I stepped into a packed carriage which was already pretty much cheek by jowl because the train had filled up several stops before I had alighted. As each stop would pass, more people would push through the doors to get on and you were required to shuffle further toward the centre of the carriage to accommodate the new arrivals.
On this occasion, I found myself stepping into the carriage immediately behind a woman who was wearing a pair of high heeled boots that were just below her knees, a mid-length skirt and waist length jacket with a hood. She had a bag over her left shoulder and was about three inches shorter than me in her heels.
As I had entered the carriage, she had turned to look at me, revealing a very pretty and freckled face with green eyes; I aged her at early thirties and she shuffled slightly forward to let me have a bit of room to stand. She had long and curly strawberry blonde hair which billowed over the hood of her jacket and, somewhat annoyingly, she insisted on shaking her hair every now and then which caused me to receive a mouthful of it! I'll admit it was very soft indeed, she smelled wonderful and strawberry blonde happens to be my favourite!.
She stood grasping the vertical handrail with her right hand as the train rocked and rolled and I tried valiantly NOT to press against her from behind, as I was being pushed toward her by someone behind me and following yet another head shake and mouthful, I emitted a pretend "spitting" noise to let her know what was happening.
She turned immediately to reveal a lovely warm smile, which I returned, and she apologised as she did so. I actually think she KNEW what she was doing and was playing with me, a conclusion I soon found to be correct!
We passed through the next station and even more people crammed into our carriage from behind us until it was nigh on impossible for me to avoid being pressed hard against her from behind. If you've ever travelled under these conditions on the London Underground, you'll know just how intimate this can become with the sway and rocking of the carriage and you make a point of trying not to touch and be touched in certain areas! An attempt at groping or goosing a woman in London under such circumstances would most likely be unwelcome, would attract a verbal tirade and chances are; even a punch in the face!
She was positioned immediately beside a vertical rail within the mid carriage entrance area, which she grasped at waist level for support and I had my hand above hers on the rail, again making sure to avoid contact (as is generally the accepted norm when commuting in London).
Particularly, I was trying not to allow my cock to press against her bottom, which would be regarded as particularly 'non-Politically Correct' in English society, by shifting my hips sideways or at an angle to her bottom. However, this woman would adjust herself and by the bend of a knee, shuffle of her feet and arching of her back, actually pushed her buttocks back onto me! It became blatantly obvious that she wasn't doing this accidentally, as she turned coyly and smiled at me a couple of times after she had successfully sought out my bulge and strategically positioned it within the warm and inviting crack of her bottom. Her right hand had moved up the vertical handrail to be in contact with mine. Meanwhile, her left arm hung down over her bag to her thigh and she stared straight ahead into space as if nothing untoward was happening.
At one stop, she cheekily pulled her hair sideways onto her shoulder, thus alleviating the hair issue and I felt her deliberately arch her back a wiggle her bottom hard against me. I just stood looking into space and pretended nothing was happening and she glanced round to me to see if I was reacting. She needn't have bothered, as my cock was now wide awake and starting to engorge and this must have been obvious to her as it was rubbing between her buttocks through the thin material of her skirt.
At the next stop, she just stayed still, pressed against me as people shuffled around us to allow leavers and newcomers to do their thing, then the train set off, rocking and rolling along as the tube does, with all standing passengers stood shoulder to shoulder (or back to front!) swaying in unison.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on the front of my jeans, stroking up and down my (now) semi erect cock! I glanced down without appearing to react and my lady friend had reached behind her with her left hand and was now gently stroking and squeezing my cock and looking into space as if there was nothing at all happening!
Each time the train stopped, she let go and her hand fell to her side as she just pressed herself against me to hide the evidence of my now rudely erect member. As the train would set off, her hand would reach back slyly behind her and she started squeezing my now rigid cock and grasping the shaft to slowly masturbate me through my trousers, occasionally stroking my balls then up along my shaft to the swollen tip...
I was just starting to feel myself getting pretty horny and needing to cum which although very erotic, I must confess instilled a bit of panic in me! She continued this torture for few more stops then, suddenly, the carriage emptied slightly at one particular stop allowing more space for those who remained. To her credit, she continually covered me by still pressing back and even slightly raising and lowering her bottom on me but now, once the train had set off and was not as intimately full, she did not reach back and actually "let me down gently" so to speak!
This respite actually permitted my erection to subside sufficiently (assisted by also crossing my legs and hunching slightly forward!) and she turned to me and just smiled mischievously. The train pulled into the next station and as it slowed, she turned to face me, looked me square in the eye and just announced in a matter of fact manner "Goodbye!"
With a knowing smile she was gone, leaving me to wonder whether I should follow her, stay, or what to do! My cock was tingling, I could feel the warm wetness of the pre-cum that had gathered in my briefs and my mind was churning through the need for relief, the time, the possibilities and all such manner of things. I quickly decided to stay after all, putting the whole thing down to experience and watched through the window to see her disappearing up the stairs the street level as the train accelerated toward its next stop.
Even now, I imagine and fantasise about a range of alternate outcomes, but let me tell you; what an erotic experience that was!
If you ever travel on the 'Tube' I advise you to look out for a strawberry blonde with a glint in her eye.
And make sure to "mind the gap!"