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Introduction:

A couple of years ago, train Strikes in South London resulting in passenger congestion like never before and led to some interesting moments
I arrive at the station, walked through the throng to the platform and expecting the worse, nothing could prepare me for the sight that met me. If you have never travelled at rush hour to central London at rush hour in the midst of a train strike, then you can’t imagine the mayhem this causes. With most trains either cancelled, running late or with insufficient carriages to cope with the thousand plus passengers that want to get on each train, this is mayhem, chaos!! All along the full length of the platform, people stand three deep, with more joining every second. I walk far along the platform trying to determine my best chance of getting on the train and join the throng in expectation that I might possibly get on the train.

Let me try to paint a picture of the scene…. The previous train was cancelled and this one is already running ten minutes late. When it arrives, several dozen people try to get on compressing the mass of people already standing at the carriage doors until finally pleading and cajoling, I and no more than six others manage to squeeze ourselves on. It’s so tigh,t my briefcase is jammed so hard, I simply cannot move my right arm. My body is pressed against the woman who got on in front of me, the remaining five passengers that managed to get on with me are crushed against my left and right arms and two more behind me. My body is held so tight by the weight of the other passengers that my left arm is stuck at an angle across my hip so that my hand, is more or less in front of my groin. The woman to my right is also at an angle to me and try as we might to try to create even a slight respectful distance, my right arm hangs down pressed against her right breast and I can feel her left leg against the back of my right hand. I look over my shoulder and do the typical English thing of apologising even though there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. She looks up, tells me its ok, apologises to me and with the train door closed, the train slowly moves away. For the next couple of minutes you can see everyone slightly fidget, desperately trying their best to maybe create the tinniest amount of space. There is not even a need to hold on, there is no point, as with this seething mass of bodies pressed so tight, even moving a foot or an arm is simply impossible.

A couple of minutes have now passed and a lot of people are simply closing their eyes as if to switch off from the real discomfort, knowing that at best you are going to be stuck like this for at least the next twenty five minutes. As I stand with my eyes closed, I suddenly come to the realisation that my right arm is pressed against the breasts of the woman to my right as my right hand keeps brushing her leg. We fidget until I just about manage to move my hand from her thigh but can do nothing about her breasts pressed against me. However, my left hand is actually resting on the left cheek of the woman in front of me, I can feel the swell of her buttock every time the train rocks slowly side to side on the tracks. Intrigued I open my eyes but all I can see is the back of her. She is about 5 foot, 7 inches tall, middle aged, long blond hair under a black and grey beanie and wearing a black top with scarf. I close my eyes again and as the train rocks slowly for the next couple of minutes, I can’t help but focus on her bottom as my hand continues to be forced backwards and forwards against her bottom. This is made worse by the fact I’m slightly enjoying the feeling of the back of my palm on her cheek, especially as my hand is also in front of my groin. The train movements result in my hand brushing repeatedly against my cock which is now started to respond and I feel it slowly harden. Feeling guilty and slightly embarrassed at what she may be thinking, I try to shift to move my hand down by my side and off her bottom but can’t. Feeling me fidget she then tries to shift position and I’m now convinced she must think I’m a pervert and stroking her bottom. She then tries to turn as if to look at me and for the briefest second, I catch a glimpse of the side of her face but can’t quite see her properly other than she is wearing glasses. However, what happens next totally throws me.

Just as I’m starting to feel uncomfortable, my cock now hard and wondering if she thinks I’m deliberately tying to touch her, she seems to lean back against my hand, shift ever so slightly to her left and even through her skirt, I can clearly feel that my hand is now pressed hard between her cheeks. I try to move away but again she shifts and I’m now in no doubt at all that she has done this deliberately. Now everytime the train rocks which is pretty much constantly, my hand either slide up and down between her cheeks several inches or in the extreme motions my hand rubs across both her cheeks. I can now clearly feel her manipulating the movement of the train and closing my eyes I focus on the feel of her full round bottom, the firmness of her cheeks and the feel of my hard cock against my palm. I can no longer ignore the pleasure and as the train rocks to and fro, my cock is gently caressed, partly by my hand but also but the way she is rocking her cheeks against the side and back of my hand. For some minutes this continues before the train halts and without the rocking of the train everyone, including me, tries to readjust our position to see if there is any way to create some space. I still can’t move. I can feel some precum in my pants and as the woman moves slightly once again, rather than creating space, I’m surprised when she pressed back against me slightly and my hand is now held tight between her cheeks. As the train once again ambles along my hand is now slowly sliding up and down with the train motion. I close my eyes again and for several minutes just focus totally on the feel of her bottom, its round, firm, wide and the effect on my mind makes my cock throb and pulse until I start to wonder how much more I can take. Just then the train slows, enters the station and coming to a halt. The doors open and as the women behind me move, a couple of the passengers make their way through the crush and suddenly there is space.

My companion who I have been intimate with for the last twenty odd minutes, is finally able to step forward and fearing any embarrassment I put my head down, close my eyes and as the train moves off, I pretend nothing has happened. Finally daring to look up I’m totally shocked and surprised. The woman is standing directly in front of me and rather than turning away she is stood facing me. She is very attractive, maybe early forties, nice cheekbones, smiling eyes behind dark rimmed glasses, she looks me in the eye and smiles sweetly. Feeling embarrassed I smile back before looking away but as I turn back again, she catches my eye and there is no doubt she is giving me a small, knowing smile. The train slows, pulls up to the platform and she is now standing right up close to my shoulder. I can feel my semi hard cock in my pants, the wet patch of precum and my cock throbs at her presence. As the doors open, she looks up at me, acknowledges me with a slight almost indiscernible nod, another small smile and she is the gone, immediacy swept up by the mass of people exciting the concourse. Just as I exit the concourse, I catch site of her, her shapely calves, her high cheeks bone, her lovely mouth and then is gone!

I walk to a café, order coffee, sit back close my eyes and feel my cock harden again as I relieve every moment. Whoever you are, thank you. Sometimes, train strikes aren’t all bad!
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