Don't Touch

After I broke up with Paul I needed a change of scene. He had been my first true relationship, we met at university, became lovers, spent all our hours together. But by the end of our final year something wasn't right between us. It was no longer exciting and we started to spend more and more time with our own friends and less and less time in each other's company. Inevitably, within a few months of leaving university we decided to go our separate ways, amicably, and with a lingering feeling of regret for the end of an innocent adventure.

I was living with my parents at my suburban home in northern England. At the same time as my relationship with Paul started to fade I gradually began to feel that the town I had grown up in was now too small for my ambitions. I was working for a local government agency, a repetitive, dull job, but the other employees were good people and the time passed agreeably, if uneventfully. But inside I was becoming more and more frustrated. I had never been a rebel as such and now at the age of 21 I started to feel that I needed to escape.

That was when I got an offer from Bella to move down to London. She had a small flat in Acton with a spare bedroom. I could stay there rent free, till I found a job... if I found a job. Bella was from India, we had been good friends at college, her parents were pretty loaded. I think they were unhappy at the thought of her living on her own in London, they had met me and I must've made a favourable impression as a quiet, sensible girl. My mother is Chinese, often I tend to get stereotyped as the standard bookish Asian student type. Bella later admitted to me that I was supposed to be some kind of chaperone to her, we both laughed at the idea.

My own parents had steadfastly insisted that I work my way through university, with their support, hence I was one of the very few of my social group to graduate without exorbitant debts. I had some savings, I was living rent-free, my parents gave me an allowance, I was single and I was living in a real metropolis for the first time in my life. I was determined to enjoy myself. Bella was looking for work as a solicitor but she really didn't look that hard. We would go out almost every night, mainly to bars and clubs in Soho, Fabric was a favourite, but most of all China White. Bella had an English boyfriend, Tom. Obviously her strict Hindu parents knew nothing about Tom. I colluded in the deception. Meanwhile I made up for lost time. I usually had 3 or 4 what you might call boyfriends at any particular time. They each had their own particular charms and attractions. Some were pretty, some had a nice body, some were well-endowed, some were rich and liked to spend it on me, some had talent, others were just fun to be with. When I wanted company it was always available. I found I liked sex more than I had realised. I was choosy too. If a man wasn't up to it in bed I would cast him back, but that was the way of things at that time. I always practiced safe sex, so I asked myself why not take what was on offer. I saw others act in the same way and I was emboldened. When I went back to a guy's flat we both knew what was happening. I don't remember feeling any guilt, it was just London.

Bella and I became incredibly close. We never judged each other, we knew it was a special moment in our lives. For Bella the likelihood of an arranged marriage loomed on the horizon, for myself I didn't know where I was headed and I tried not to look too far into the future. Tom was good for her and they were very much in love. Their relationship had a desperate intensity coming from the knowledge that it couldn't last. He was fun to be with too and the three of us were inseparable.

In the evening we would plan how our night would unfold. Bella and I would prepare dinner listening to Ministry of Sound compilation albums, a bottle of Chablis shared between us. Tom would return from work around 8pm, usually to find Bella and I dancing manically round the kitchen. More wine, cigarettes, music, call for a taxi, a rush for the shower, call another taxi, sharing make-up, a change of dress. Tom throwing a shirt and some aftershave on, I always loved a man who can be ready that quickly. Finally giving up on the taxi we would decide on the tube instead.

We ran for the tube, laughing when I lost a shoe on the escalator and apologising profusely when we almost knocked over a very surprised looking Afro-Caribbean gentleman. More often than not the tube was still busy at that time. If there were two seats together I would insist on Bella and Tom sitting beside one another, it gave me a warm feeling to see them arm in arm. I gripped the pole and braced myself against the glass. When the train stopped at a station I could feel the icy cold air whip against my stocking-clad legs. A man got on and stood alongside me, his back to me, leaning on the glass divider.

I continued chatting with Bella and Tom, they asked me who I was meeting up with tonight. I told them nobody, Tom laughed slightly drunk. His big blue eyes looked a little glassy. 'Don't you believe me?' I asked indignantly. He smiled innocently and raised his hands in mock protestation. 'Whenever you say that you always end up getting off with someone', Bella retorted shooting me a sly grin.

'OK, so I'm a slapper. Happy now?'

'Good! That makes 2 of us'

'You mean 3', Tom raised an imaginary glass. 'Here's to rampant promiscuity.' We shared his toast willingly. The man next to me shifted slightly.

'Where are we headed for first?'

I felt something warm brush against my lower back.

'Why bother asking, you know where we'll end up.'

'Next stop, White City' intoned the automated voice. The train whistled into the station, once again the icy air caught me by surprise. The alcohol in my blood rushed through my body keeping me warm. Nobody got on our carriage. When the doors shut something else other than cold air touched the back of my legs. I stiffened slightly. The back of his hand moved against my thigh.

'Perhaps we should try that new bar in Mayfair?' I spoke up.

His hand was warm, his fingers toyed with the silk of my stockings.

'Which one?'

I felt fingertips slowly snaking up my leg.

'She means that ice bar place.'

Suddenly the train swept into a tunnel, we were jolted slightly and the hand found its way to my behind. I gripped the pole tightly and I shifted the weight onto my other leg. The hand cupped one cheek softly and gave a gentle squeeze.

'I don't think any of us are dressed for that.'

'Next stop, Shepherd's Bush.'

One or two passengers got off, a few more boarded the carriage. The man didn't remove his hand from my body. He didn't move it either, just held the presumptuous embrace. Just as the doors closed I glanced over my shoulder. I saw his profile. I was surprised. He was so young, younger than I was I think, and good-looking too. Tall, slim, smooth pale brown skin, well groomed and a hint of expensive fragrance, not too strong. He didn't return my gaze. He was staring intently at his mobile.

'Its OK, they give you fluffy coats to wear while you're in there.'

As we set off again his hand began to move once more, pulsing rhythmically with the rocking motion of the train. He traced the curve of my cheek, running his fingers along the division between them, over the soft cotton of my dress. I crossed my legs but made no effort to stop his investigation. My body was blocking his actions from view by the other passengers. I knew nobody would interrupt us. Even if they did notice what was happening they would naturally come to the conclusion that we were already acquainted. He reached the hem of my dress and paused for a second, then grasped it firmly. Involuntarily I drew a sharp intake of breath; if I was going to stop it then this was the time. I wasn't sure why I had let him continue so long. I guess I felt I was doing this young guy a favour, allowing him a brief taste of fruit he couldn't afford in reality. But if that was the case what was that warmness between my legs and why did I feel such a strong urge to squeeze my thigh muscles tightly and repeatedly. The moment he gripped my dress in his fist I could feel my resistance melting even as a sense of mild panic arose.

'Holland Park.' The stations came more frequently now. He didn't even wait for the doors to close before inching the dress upwards to reveal the tops of my stockings and the merest hint of silky underwear. Bella and Tom were chatting amongst themselves now. I stared at my reflection in the window opposite, watching the slow, deliberate movements as his fingertips brushed against my knickers. I knew I must be wet, I knew he would feel it too. I felt a sense of shame but it was quickly brushed aside by a wave of erotic sensation. I unclenched my thigh muscles and adjusted my stance, parting my legs a few inches in silently offered permission.

'Notting Hill Gate. Change here for District and Circle lines.' He paused for a moment, as if suddenly unsure of himself. Perhaps my brazen actions had disturbed his fantasy of control. I worried that if he stopped now I would really start to feel ashamed. I needed his complicity in this transgression. At this moment, with a stranger I'd never so much as seen before let alone spoken to, I had bared myself, literally and emotionally. He had intruded upon my private space and I had welcomed him in to a secret room of darkness and hidden desire. I'm sure I held my breath till the moment his touch found my hot, moist sex, feeling the slick wetness through the material. He dextrously slipped his fingers beneath the underwear and tantalisingly caressed me. I crushed his hand between my thighs as we pulled into the next stop. I kept my eyes closed, willing him to not stop, willing even more that the rowdy group of city slickers on the platform board the next carriage instead of ours.

His long fingers moved inside me. I arched my body slightly, pressing against the hand railing. Surely this was going too far. There were only a few stops left and they were all short ones. But still I drove willingly into the risk, even as the train plunged headlong into the underbelly of the gaudy metropolis. I felt as though the city itself was sucking me in to its heart in one long, ragged draw of breath.

'Next stop Queensway.' I felt his fingertip slide between my lips, spreading the wetness through my hair. I knew this had gone beyond my control now but I was helpless to stop it. When his touch reached the centre of my pleasure I felt as if the top of my head had just come off. I wanted to turn and face my tormentor. I was desperate to know whether he was still keeping up that cool, implacable façade or whether he was having as much difficulty as I was in maintaining composure. Yet I refused to allow myself to turn around, partly to prevent any wrong step from breaking the delicious tension of the moment and partly because that self-denial was itself a source of erotic stimulation. I bit my lip and pressed my forehead against the cold metal pole. I imagined how hard he must be now. How much he must want my body right now. To wrench my clothes aside and take me right there in front of everyone, ignoring their shocked expressions and tuts of disgust, making me scream with lust. I allowed the mental fantasy to take over, fuelling my intense arousal.

'Lancaster Gate.' That meant only a couple of stops left to go! I opened my eyes and concentrated on the reflection of myself in the window. The carriage seemed quiet now, only the noise of the tracks and the roaring of the air blowing through the half-open window. I moved with the train and the unseen hand in one symbiotic rhythm. His fingers sustained their wavelike motion, such a tiny delicate action somehow elicited more pleasure than anything I could remember. I could see his hand under my dress, crudely pressing into my flesh. I began to wonder whether it was possible for me to climax here in front of so many strangers. I wondered whether it would show in my face, whether I would be unable to prevent myself from crying out and drawing all eyes to the spectacle of my wantonness.

'The next stop is Marble Arch.'

'We'll get off at the next one after this.' I heard Tom say to Bella, but somehow they both seemed very distant to me now. Whether the youth was listening and picked up on that, or whether he was merely responding to my body's silent entreatments, his pattern changed. His touch became firmer, more insistent. His finger pressed harder against my clitoris.

'No, its closer from Oxford Circus.' I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed when Tom said that. An extra stop. Another 2 minutes to be subjected to this obscene groping. Internally I was pleading with the man to release me from his control, yet physically I craved his touch. The unyielding pressure coaxed indescribable pleasure from my body, the delicious friction was all that I could think of now. I could feel it building in my abdomen. 2 more stops! I knew I wouldn't be able to make it. My heart thumped in my chest, I was sweating. My underwear and stockings were soaked. Damn him!

Then I heard the shutter of a camera phone behind me. I didn't dare to look. I knew what the photo was of. My mind immediately pictured him showing his friends the proof of his conquest and of my surrender. I imagined their lewd comments, their hormonal jealousy at the grainy image of my bared flesh. And then I could hold back no more. I squeezed his hand with all my strength as the passion overtook me. It must have hurt him as I heard a barely-audible moan escape his lips, the only sound to escape his lips the entire journey. My climax was hard and fast. A pleasure that seized me and shook me roughly, leaving me spent. My gaze remained fixed intently upon the floor. I swallowed a cry of anguished ecstasy and I shuddered once... twice.

'Bond Street. Change here for Jubilee Line.' I hadn't released my grip on him when he pulled away from me. Something trickled down between my thighs. The door opened and the cold air upon hot skin drew a final shudder from me. My tormentor swiftly exited the carriage without a word. I tried to catch his eye as he walked off down the platform but he didn't look back once. The doors clamped shut and he was gone. As I regained my presence of mind I quickly reached behind to readjust my clothing for the sake of modesty. I looked down at Bella and Tom, she was resting her head on his shoulder. They both looked up at me with mischievous smiles.

'Were you enjoying that?' Tom spoke up.

I blanched. Panic and desperate embarrassment welled up in equal proportions. I could tell from the look in Bella's eyes that she knew everything. I felt my face redden, the thought suddenly crossed my mind just how many others in the carriage may have been aware of it too. There was nowhere to hide, no way to disguise the fact. I summoned all my dutch courage.

'Yes, thank you. Very much.' My voice didn't tremble even though my body was quivering. Then I laughed, my hair falling in front of my face as I blushed again. My companions laughed too, I was still embarrassed but their gaiety prevented me from being crushed.

'Quick, this is our stop.' Bella seized my hand as we pulled into the station. With her other hand she hauled Tom from the seat and pulled the two of us close to her in an affectionate embrace.

Still laughing, she turned to him and whispered, 'How come you've never done that to me?'