Chikan is the Japanese word for pervert. It used mostly for men who inappropriately touch women on the subway. I know this because my roommate has this thing about Japanese porn. I never really paid much attention to his movies, that is until I became a chikan. I didn't set out to become one, it just sort of happened.
It was a typically morning commute. The train was jammed packed with souls traveling to work. By the time I got on, there were no seats and only a few places let to stand. Two stops later, those places were gone and the train was bursting with people. The train pulled into the next station and I watched with amusement as people pushed and shoved their way on decreasing even further the amount of personal space. Looking down I couldn't even see the floor, but just a mass of shoes and legs of various shapes, colors and sizes.
Holding on a silver metal pole for support, I passed the time by listened to the radio and trying not to bump into my neighbors. As the train swayed back and forth, contact was inevitable. Riding the train means assuming the risk of unwanted human contact. It typically was an unwanted bump, nudge or elbow in ribs, at worst it was a stolen wallet.
The train rocked to the left has it turned in a tunnel, as I tried to shift my weight to compensate for the force, my hand accidentally slammed into the backside of the woman standing a few inches in front of me. Immediately I regained my position and instinctively mumbled "excuse me" in a soft voice. What was striking was that she didn't flinch or respond. She acted as if nothing happened. "Well, at least she didn't turn and slap me." I thought gratefully.
Then a couple of things happened: first, it dawned on me that he ass felt pretty good and second, I remembered those Japanese movies that my roommates watched. The more I thought about it the more I started to catch wood.
"Let me check this chick out." I thought.
She was short, about 5'5'' in heels, older with a head full of gray teased collar length hair. She was fit, with a curvy figure and nice round ass. Plus I liked the outfit: a tight fitting green business suit, tan stockings and green pumps. I have to admit I have this thing about women in business suits. Granted, not my grandmother in a business suit but having just felt her ass, I was ready to put that aside.
Looking back, I must have been a total idiot to take such a risk. But what can you say, I got lucky. I scanned the crowd and noted that everyone had their head in a book, paper or was just not paying attention. I was curious that she didn't react at all. So, I thought I'd nudge her again and see what would happen. As the conductor announced the next stop, l let my hand drop in front of me. Slowly and deliberately I firmly brushed it against her right butt cheek. It slid firmly against her backside, dragging along the coarse fibers of her wool skirt, while sensing the textures her undergarments. As I approached her crack, I quickly lifted my hand away and looked around for any reaction.