This is a work of fiction. All characters included or referenced to are above the age of consent. Any names or resemblances to any person, location or event is purely coincidental. This is purely for entertainment and never meant to happen in reality.
***
I am hurrying down the crowded stairs, trying to reach the platform of the subway station. I can see the train ahead of me, with people still filing into the obviously cramped cars. I am concerned as I realize that I don't know which car my boyfriend, and friend Mike, has gotten on.
The three of us had come into the city earlier today to meet up with a couple other friends to have a post birthday lunch for me, in recognition of my 24th birthday last week.
After lunch, we enjoyed a couple drinks, which is something that Thomas and I don't do often. We stayed longer than expected and wanted to hurry back home. But I had to pee really bad and wasn't about to risk being stuck on the subway for the forty-to-fifty minute ride to our stop, which was at the very end of the line. So I sent them ahead while I located the ladies room, promising to meet them on the platform.
Thank god my mother had taught me the art of hovering when urinating in public restrooms, because this toilet seat was filthy. But fortunately all I had to do was pee. So I did my business and vacated the stall, stopping momentarily to wash my hands and look at my reflection in the mirror.
My shoulder length, light brown hair is pulled back. I am wearing large, round glasses that match my oval face. The lenses accent my large blue eyes.
I smile, remembering how Thomas had commented on how pretty I looked today. Sure, he is exaggerating some, but I have always been considered to be an attractive girl.
I'm wearing a oversized t-shirt that somewhat hides my C-cup breasts and hangs down to cover my butt. I am wearing black yoga pants and have crocs on my feet. I am 5'8" inches tall and have a firm, 36-25-38 body. I am very toned thanks to my years of being on swim teams. I even coached swim teams up until last year, when I began working full time.
My cell phone beeped and I saw a text from Thomas saying, "Grace, where are you.
The train will be here any minute now and the next one won't get here for 14 minutes."
I hurried out the door and texted him back, "On my way. At the top of the stairs now. Just get on and grab us a seat if it gets there before me and I'll meet you in the back of the car."
And that's where I am now. On an overcrowded subway train trying to make my way to the back of the car, and hoping that Thomas and Mike got on the last car too.
All the seats are filled and people are standing in the aisle. I squeeze between men and women, slowly making my way through. The trail begins moving and several of us who are standing jolt from the sudden movement. At that same time I jump as I feel a hand caressing my butt. I immediately wish that I had not worn my yoga pants.
Wait, is that Thomas? I think I recognize him in the crowd. His back is towards me, but his body shape and shirt color match. But upon getting closer I realize that it's not him. I reach the back, my usual favorite spot on the few times I ride the subway, where two seats sit sideways against the wall as opposed to the other rows that face forward or backwards. But instead of Thomas and Mike, I see the guy who is dressed similar to Thomas, seated next to a Hispanic looking man. Across from them are two more men.
The man I had mistaken for Thomas has dark brown hair. He appears to be my age, or maybe just a little older. Not a bad looking man, but rough looking at the same time.
The Hispanic man seated next to him looked a little younger. He had brown skin and dark eyes, that I see looking me up and down.
Across from them are two other men, both of whom also look to be about twenty. One of them was heavier than the others, with light brown hair and he appears not to have shaved in two or three days.
The last is a skinny blond haired man with several tattoos on both arms. He looks up and me with a grin and says, "You're welcome to sit on my lap."
There is a little room in the small area where they are sitting, but people are pressed up against me behind me. I want to say something to the blond guy, but I'm too shy to do it. I've never really been able to speak up in public.
Then I feel another hand on my butt. What the hell is wrong with these perverts on the train? I turn around to see who it is. There are three primary suspects right behind me. But I'm certain that it's a man who looks to be in his mid forties, with Short brown hair and a full beard and mustache, all of which has streaks of grey in it. He is well dressed and is just a little closer to me than the other two, both of whom have their backs to me. I am grossed out that a man as old as him touched me like this.
I glare at him, but keep my mouth shut.
I hear my phone ding. I look at it and realize that I have missed three messages from Thomas, telling me that the train is moving and wanting to know where I am at. I quickly reply, letting him know that I am on the last car and will see him when we reach our stop.
I have been dating Thomas for two years now. He is a great guy and I like everything about our relationship. Well, everything but one: sex. I wanted to remain abstinent until getting married. He has accepted that to a point, but over the past two years he has pushed for something, so I have agreed to ways to get him off.
What bothers him most is that I had this stance while I am not a virgin. I have had sex with three men in my life before I decided to stop and wait for marriage.
Truth be told, I was really sexually unfulfilled when I was sexually active. And there were other reasons why I have been hesitant to have intercourse.
My mother got pregnant with me when she was still in school. She was an 18-year-old senior who had a random encounter with an older guy she met at a party and never saw again, so I never knew my father. I was raised by my mom while living with my grandparents. They are great, but they, and now my mother, are very religious, so that made me a church girl by default. Not that I mind that. I actually met Thomas in church. But my family has done their best to discourage me from having sex to avoid me following my mom into unwed pregnancy.
As a result, I remained a virgin until I was 18.
My first experience was nothing to write home about. I had fallen in love with Jimmy Humphries, who was also an 18-year-old virgin like me. I decided to make love to him, but since we didn't have a condom, I made him promise to pull out before he came.
Unfortunately, Jimmy came no more than a minute after entering me, and ignored his promise to pull out. Instead, cumming inside of me. I was pissed, but he claimed that it happened so fast he couldn't pull out. So I was terrified that I might be pregnant until I had my next period. Worse, Jimmy bragged to all of our friends about fucking me. So that was the end of things between us.
From the ages of 19 through 21, I dated a few guys, but only had sex with two of them. I screwed each of those two several times during our relationships, all with condoms. Even though they were my age, they apparently were as inexperienced as me, so, much to my dismay, neither man had ever lasted more than a couple minutes in me either, so neither had brought me to orgasm through intercourse. Although, being the people pleaser that I am, I always lied and told them I did.
A couple did make me orgasm, but by using their fingers on me. They both tried going down on me, which is something that I wanted, but for some reason I was always too sensitive to take it and could never let either man lick me long enough to climax.
Both of those relationships ended as a result of them cheating on me. So I just don't trust men enough to screw them. Don't get me wrong, I really want sex. I often watch porn and masturbate watching couples fuck. I hope that one day Thomas can screw me like the men do in those videos. So, yes, I want sex. But I want it from a true committed relationship and from someone who is going to fulfill my needs.
So, at 24 years of age, I have yet to orgasm on a cock, or even a tongue.
Thomas isn't a virgin either. He confessed to me about having sex with five girls he went to college with. But when we began dating and I shared my desire for celibacy he had understood at the time. Of course, the longer we've been together, the more he pursued something physical. So I gave in and began providing him some sex acts, if nothing else than to keep him happy.
This started with handjobs, and he would rub me to make me cum too.
Eventually we began doing oral. Mostly because he kept asking to go down on me. But, just like my previous two boyfriends, while it felt good initially, I became too sensitive to let him continue and have to make him stop. He felt so bad the first time I made him stop that I decided to suck his dick to make him feel better. But when I wouldn't let him cum in my mouth he asked if he could tit fuck me.
Now those have been added to our routine. I have sucked him to orgasm a few times, but make him wear a condom when I do so I don't get it in my mouth.
Of course, he suggested that if he wears a condom and fucks me that there would be no real contact. But I refuse to do that.
My mind was brought back to the present by the feel of another hand cupping my right buttocks. This time it has to be one of the guys sitting in the last seats. I try to move forward, but can't do so without pushing up against the older man who I suspect of groping me too.
The hand gropes me again. "Stop." I whimper, too afraid to speak up, out of fear of someone hearing me. I use my hand to push the hand on my butt away.
A hand grabs my left butt cheek. I slide my hips from side to side to get away from it.
"I said stop." I dare to speak a little louder. Then I realize that at least two of the men are now standing behind me.
The car stops again, and I attempt to move through the crowd, intending on exiting the train. I think it would be best to wait for the next one to come along.
As soon as I try to step forward a pair of arms encircle my upper body. The hands grab both of my boobs and pull me back. A third hand is now on my ass, and, as I struggle, it slides down between my legs and begins rubbing up against my crotch.
Oh my god, I am being molested by two men. Surely someone would see this and put a stop to it. But the only one who appears to notice is the older man with the beard. And from the look on his face I am certain that he is enjoying my predicament.
I try to squeeze my legs together. "Come on, stop it. You can't do this."
I bring my hands up and pull at the wrists of the man fondling my tits, as the train begins to move again.
Another pair of hands join in my assault. "Come on, guys, please stop." I still don't dare to raise my voice. I am too humiliated to let others know what was happening to me.
"Turn her around." One of them said. His voice was barely audible over the noise in the subway car.
I am spun about and pushed up against the wall of the subway car. The Hispanic man and the chubby guy grab an arm on either side of me and pin me into place. The man I mistook for Thomas steps forward and grabs my T-shirt and yanks it up, exposing my tits. I struggle against the men holding me as he pulls my bra up to reveal my boobs. Then he grabs them in each hand and begins squeezing them, using his thumbs to caress my nipples, which grow hard from the stimulation. "Oh, these are nice." He says.
"Stop it, let me go." I insist. I look at the older man and say, "Help me."
But he just watches. I see his right hand rubbing his crotch. The bastard really is enjoying this!
The guy before me squats down. He grabs the waist of my yoga pants and jerks them down along my legs.
"No, please stop." I beg.
Once he gets them to my ankles, he does the same to my panties. Now, these four men, plus the older man watching, and anyone else who might turn around, can see my bare tits and my exposed, shaved pussy.
"Get her on the seat." The man at my feet says.
The other two men sit down and pull be down between them. The first guy gets on his knees, pulling my legs apart while he moves his face between my legs.
"No, don't." I say. Still too mortified to cry out for help.
He starts licking my pussy. I squirm between the other two men, unable to believe that this is happening to me. And that anyone who looks will be able to see it.
The man enjoys running his tongue along my slit, and inserting it into me several times before moving up to my clit.
