Groped and Used by a Stranger

It was a hot summer day and I had come into central London for a day of window shopping and socialising. Because of the weather, I had decided to wear my favourite light summer dress. I am fortunate in that I can get away without wearing a bra if I want to, and today was one of those days where to be free of restraint was very appealing, however the material of my dress was quite thin and sheer and to go without anything underneath would have resulted in a lot of attention, so I elected to wear a lacy camisole underneath. That way I could enjoy the freedom of being braless without drawing undue attention to myself.

I had a lovely day with my friends but eventually it came to an end and we parted company after a lovely late lunch in the Tate Modern. I was heading towards Shepherd Bush as I wanted to carry on window shopping in the Westfield Shopping Centre. I decided to enjoy the weather a little more and walk over the river to St Pauls to catch the tube. As I walked I noticed a guy looking at me. He smiled but I blanked him and continued to walk. He was a reasonable looking guy, but I was just trying to enjoy the day, so I didn't want to give him any encouragement.

I crossed the Millennium Bridge luxuriating in the feeling of the gentle river breeze caressing my skin and providing a welcome relief from the still hot sun. I stopped halfway across to admire the view and as I did so, I looked to my side and noticed the same man who had smiled at me, also stopped looking out over the Thames just a short distance from me. As I watched him, he turned to me and smiled again, this time with more than a hint of a leer on his face.

Suddenly, my mind was in turmoil. Was it just a coincidence or was he following me. It seemed unlikely that he had accidentally stopped at the same time as me. I didn't feel scared -- just strangely excited but for reasons I couldn't understand. I broke his gaze and resumed my walk, still at a walking pace but with a modicum more urgency.

I descended into the hot, sticky tube station of St Pauls and headed for the Westbound Central Line. It wasn't quite rush-hour, but the weather must have driven a lot of the city workers home early because the station was packed with people. I do not suffer from claustrophobia, but I do like my personal space and it was clear from the number of people purposefully striding towards their platforms that personal space was something I may need to forego for a while.

The heat rose unbearably, only alleviated momentarily as the trains pushing through the tunnels blasted a jet of air out into the tunnel system. All around me was the smell of hot, sticky bodies. My light summer dress started to cling to me as my own perspiration started to take its toll. I waited patiently with my fellow travellers for the next train to arrive.

When it finally burst out of the tunnel, it was clear that this was not going to be a comfortable journey as most carriages were already heavily loaded. I managed to jostle and push my way into the nearest carriage and resigned myself to my fate. Anyone who uses the tube regularly knows what it is like -- just something you must put up with. In fact, I actually find it fascinating how civilised most commuters behave in very uncivilised circumstances. How we all unconsciously participate in this secret ballet of shifting weight around and trying to find your own comfortable spot within the mass of human bodies.

However good you are at this, on days such as this, you know that unexpected contact with strangers is unavoidable and nothing to worry about, so I was unconcerned when I felt a warm body pressed against my buttocks and lower back and my breasts crushed up against a lady in front of me.

The train left the station and as it lurched and rolled, our bodies followed its lead and bumped and grinded against each other as usual, but then something felt odd. The ill-defined, general pressure against my bum changed. It became more defined and specific and -- well - harder! Not only that, but the hard, sausage shape lump nestled between my bum cheeks was no longer moving purely in response to the train's motion, there was a definite, rhythmic thrusting against me.

It was clear what was happening. I was surrounded by strangers and someone I couldn't see was dry humping my bum. I tried to turn round but the crush of bodies prevented me from easily doing this, however I managed to crane my neck into a position where out of the corner of my eye I spotted the guy who had followed me. He still had a big smile on his face and being seen did not result in any change in his rhythm.

I probably should have screamed and made a fuss. There were plenty of people around me who could have helped me but instead of feeling outraged and scared, I discovered that my pussy was soaking wet. I was aroused -- REALLY aroused. A stranger who had slightly spooked me just a few minutes previously was using me for his own pleasure in public, seemingly with none of my fellow passengers being aware of what was happening literally inches from them.

I SHOULD have screamed. But I didn't.

Instead I faced forward and enjoyed the attention.

We pulled into Tottenham Court Road and the carriage occupants reconfigured. Some got off, more got on. Same crush, different people, slightly different position. But still I could feel this strangers cock drilling into my backside. As the train left the station and the people around me busied themselves on not looking at anyone in particular, the grinding restarted, but this time I felt something different. This time I felt the material of my dress being lifted and a hand sliding down into my knickers.

Still no-one around me showed any sign of being aware of what was happening to me and still I felt inexplicably aroused by this invasion. I felt the hand sliding my knickers down to just below my buttocks and then a finger exploring the crevice between my cheeks. The finger tickled and stroked the entrance to my anus for a while and then was removed and replaced once more by the trouser covered erection, this time rubbing directly against my skin.

The newly freed hand however managed to find a route around my waist and before I knew it, the front hem of my dress was lifted, and the hand found itself inside the front of my knickers. I felt it moving downwards until it eventually parted my lips. At this point of course, my assailant would have felt how wet I was -- soaking wet. My underwear was soaking too. In this instant, he knew for certain that it was not fear that stopped me exposing his actions, but pleasure. His hand sought out my clitoris and started to stroke it. I wanted to cry out with pleasure, but I had to bite my tongue.

I became aware of a sudden warmth against my left shoulder and realised that it was his head. He leaned in until I could feel his breath against my temple and quietly whispered one word in my ear:

"SLUT!"

I came. In public, surrounded by strangers, I experienced an orgasm as he stimulated my slippery, angry clit, and whispered the terrible truth in my ear. I tried my best to hide the involuntary spasm's that overcame my body and to stifle the shrieks of pleasure that I desperately wanted to let out. A couple of my neighbours were aware of some movement from me, but they just adjusted their stance to accommodate me, thinking perhaps that I was trying to get more comfortable. One or two perhaps wondered why I was perspiring so much and had a crimson blush on my cheeks, but no-one really reacted, not least because seconds after that amazing climax, the train sped into Oxford Circus station. The hand that had been violating me was removed and my dress fell back into place. To the passengers around me, I was just a slightly flushed girl in a summer dress.

Again, the passengers reconfigured and still the train was packed. And as the train left the station, the hand found it's way back into the front of my soaking wet knickers. This time though, the fingers ignored my clit and were thrust into my pussy. Almost instantly, they were removed and moved back to my bum. Now covered in my pussy juices, the slippery fingers traced an urgent pattern around my anus and gently and slowly one of them was inserted into me.

Once more I felt the presence of the man's head at my shoulder, leaning into me, preparing to give me a message.

"I'm going to fuck you slut! Get off at the next stop and wait on the platform."

Almost immediately, the train pulled into Bond Street. I did as instructed and left the train. I did not look behind until I was clear of the train and by the wall. The other disembarked passengers made their way to the escalators and the train pulled out of the station. We were momentarily almost alone on the platform.

"Take your knickers off and hand them to me."

I did as instructed and he pocketed the soaking underwear. He instructed me to leave the station and wait for him outside. Again I complied. As I was travelling up the escalator I became acutely conscious of my state of undress. My light summer dress was flapping in the breeze, threatening to lift at any moment, but even without the peril of an unexpected gust of air, the shortness of my skirt must have meant that people below me on the moving staircase, may have had a reasonably good chance of seeing up my dress.

I loved that thought. I wouldn't have believed that I could have been more aroused, but the thought of public exposure had a very stimulating effect on me. I almost wanted to be seen by all these strangers. Men, women, young, old -- it didn't matter.

I left the station and waited on the street. The man arrived soon after me. He didn't say a word; just grabbed my elbow and steered me off up the street. It was still busy and there were plenty of people around. As we walked, he scanned the street and finally found what he was looking for -- an alleyway.

He bundled me down the ally. We were only 15 or 20 metres from the main street, packed with people walking within hearing distance of us. There was one of those smelly commercial refuse bins against the side of the wall which afforded a small amount of privacy from the main street. He pushed me up against the wall and ordered me to kneel and suck him. I obeyed, kneeling amongst unspecified refuse and grime, I reached out, unzipped his trousers and reached in. His cock was hard, average length but quite thick and sticky with pre-cum already.

I opened my mouth and wrapped my lips around his helmet. I snaked my tongue over the tip of it as I started to slide his shaft in. I started to slide it in and out rhythmically, trying to suck, although his girth made it difficult. I gently fondled his balls as he started to thrust himself against me. My attempts at an accomplished, blow job were superseded by the vigorous thrusting I was subjected to as he grabbed the hair on my head and fucked my throat hard. I gagged and choked several times before he stopped and ordered me to stand up. As I obeyed, he reached down and pulled the hem of my dress up and over my head. He then ripped the cami top from my chest and I was naked in an alleyway, just feet from one of the busiest shopping streets in the country.

He grabbed my boobs hard and pinched my nipples and for the second time that day I felt the stirrings of an unexpected and very public orgasm. He pushed me up against the wall and with one hand grabbed my wrists and lifted them high above my head. He leaned forward and nibbled at my breasts. Then standing upright, he grabbed his cock and started to position it near my pussy. I was quite a lot shorter than him, so he had to pick me up and as he did, I felt the tip of his cock nuzzle against the folds of my pussy.

Establishing a comfortable hold on me, he thrust forward and was inside me. He moved forwards, pinning me to the wall and supporting me with his hands under my thighs. His thrusts were vigorous and hard. He pistoned in and out of my soaking pussy relentlessly. I could feel every vein and contour of his cock as he stretched me wide. I could feel the pulsing of the blood in his erection and I loved every minute of it. The cold roughness of the wall against my naked skin and the violent pumping motion merged into a crescendo of sensual pleasure and I orgasmed again. This time though, I made no attempt to stifle it. I didn't care who heard me this time. It was pure pleasure and I was determined to enjoy every millisecond of it.

I sensed that my own climax had brought his closer. He withdrew from inside me, lowered my feet to the ground and told me to turn round, and bend over. I knew where this was going before I felt the tip of his cock pushing against my arsehole. I had a moment of panic as the memory of his girth could still be felt inside my pussy, but before I had time to worry any further, he was pushing hard against me. I felt myself starting to open up to him, the power of his hard cock gradually but relentlessly overcoming the resistance put up by my body.

I breathed in hard as I felt his helmet slide inside my most intimate region. One final concerted thrust and he was deep inside me and cumming hard, pumping his sperm deep into my bowels. His climax was accompanied by a similarly vocal grunting and swearing. He pulled out of me, slapped my bum hard and zipped himself up.

Without uttering a word, he leaned down, picked up my dress and walked off chuckling, leaving me naked in the alleyway. As he reached the street, he turned round, gave his leering smile, waved, and walked off, dropping my dress at the entrance to the ally...