Travelling on the London Northern Line in rush hour was always a crush. Unlike the modern Lizzy Line, the carriages were cramped and dirty. If tubes were nightclubs, then this was the gritty underground club where masses sweated and had no choice but be pressed together in an orgy of bodies. The unexperienced office chicks would always topple on their heel's with the jolting motions of breaks and speed, but maybe this was on purpose so their prince charming would catch them? Angel always preferred to get a seat. Being petite, at only 5ft 3, getting away from the mosh pit was a relief.
Of course, it did occasionally have its advantages. She liked to wear tight pencil skirts and heals for client meetings or for the hot men who worked in her office from time to time. On these days Angel would always stand in the central throng by the doors where the people pack in extra tight and absolutely no rucksacks on shoulders are allowed. Sometimes a bad Brixton boy in trackies or a smutty minded city trader would stand behind her. She would feel the hips push against her butt, but much closer than was socially acceptable. Hard on getting harder, as the train rocked all the bodies in a motion together. She mused how many other people were receiving the same naughty, (maybe even slightly criminal if the woman was to complain?) un-consensual rubbing of ass with some random stiff dirty dick. She would never look behind, ever, what if it was someone she knew?
Today was not one of those days though, a standard day in the office, no client meetings or hot consultants working so she was casually dressed. Still a cute shirt with the buttons done up to her bra line. Obsessed with lingerie, Angel liked to look and touch herself throughout the day. Lightly on the breast or hand between her legs pushing her tight jeans against her, it was an easy way to please her raging mojo.
Tactical seat positioning, i.e., getting a seat, is an art on the rush hour tubes. The trick is about noticing when someone is preparing to move at the major interchange stations and getting in front of that seat. As Angel dived for a seat which she wasn't totally in front of, so did the same 6ft hunk that was sharing the space. Oh, he was cute, deep brown eyes, broad shoulders and big hands. As their eyes locked, he smiled and gestured if to say 'ladies first'. For the rest of the journey Angel sat facing his crouch. His body loom over hers and, without intention, kept thrusting his dick in her direction as the carriage rocked against the old rails. If there wasn't 100 other people in the immediate vicinity Angel would have just loved to reach out, unzipped his pants and see how much of gentleman he really was.
All day she couldn't get the tall tube guy out of her mind. Touching herself in the bathroom it occurred to her she hadn't actually screwed anyone over 6ft in her life. She had a running joke with her model like buddies that she 'would leave the tall ones for them!' and hadn't really experienced being lifted for more than a minute or held like a puppet on the end of a man's dick. She liked the idea...being a little puppet for a tall guy.
Her tall guy fantasy had taken an up-turn the minute Angel changed her preferences on the app. Her adverts always took a while to write as she was a creative experimentalist and like to intrigue her audience.
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SEEKING: Little pint pot auditioning Puppeteering Masters for an intimate home show.
The successful candidate will have good stage presence, creative staging ideas and can guarantee a minimum height of 6ft to perform.
Please apply within, together with suggestive photo/video.
