Author's Note: All characters are over the age of 18. This is a story of a lesbian discovering her bisexuality at the hands of a skillful male molester on a train. If this theme bothers you, I advise you not to continue reading.
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I always enjoyed late-night train rides after a long day at work. I had been riding on the subway for many years now without incident. I used the time to read a book, check email, listen to podcasts, or just zone out to music while relaxing in one of the seats. The world didn't seem to matter during those moments.
It was when my schedule at work alternated that everything changed. Overnight shifts were cut due to the lack of customer base overseas needing support during the early morning hours. I wasn't looking forward to riding the subway during rush hour, but I had no other choice, as the hectic 9-5 schedule was the earliest one I could get.
My girlfriend Jessica was unhappy at first but worked in a hospital, so she switched to 5 am - 5 pm so she could be getting home at the same time I was. I had known I was a lesbian since I was five years old and had never been attracted to a single man in my life. I gathered now that I was 25 years old that wasn't going to change any time soon, but circumstances decided differently.
I was aware of the effect that I have on the opposite sex, as I had been hit on by several men over the years that had no idea of my sexual preference whatsoever. I always just laughed it off and never thought anything of it, sometimes even innocently flirting back just to be a tease. My girlfriend and I had a pretty active social life, and many mutual friends.
I wasn't unattractive by any means, I had a girl next door kind of look that most men and women found adorable and charming. Long brunette hair, emerald green eyes, and a bright, energetic smile that was said to light up a room. My figure was thin but curvy and I was shorter than most women at 5'4. Some thought I was just the right height, whereas others teased me for being little, which I didn't mind.
My first few afternoons riding the train went as normal without a problem. I felt like as every day came and went the carriages would become more and more packed with people. I was scrambling to get on the train quick enough to grab a seat but often found myself having to stand up between people or pressed tight against one of the poles. I had heard stories of women having less than fortunate situations unexpectedly if they did not find a good spot.
One particular afternoon I was running later than usual. Much to my dismay, I got on the train and had to stand and grip a pole toward the very back, nearly pressed against the door that led to the other carriages. It was packed tight with hardly any room to move.
My outfit that day consisted of a short skirt and a bright green blouse unbuttoned in the front that showed off my small breasts. I had not been very gifted in that department, but my girlfriend never complained about it, and neither did anyone that I flaunted them for. There was a time when I was younger where I was self-conscious about cleavage, but that ship had now sailed.
When there was a sudden jerk I felt a large hand on my left ass cheek over my skirt. Once the ride became smooth again I expected the hand to go away but it did not. Instead, it began to rub and give a tentative squeeze to gauge a reaction.
I was a bit shocked by this behavior, as I had been riding in this subway nearly every day of my life for years and never had anything like this happen. Instead of shrugging the hand away, I stayed still, my hands clutching the pole in front of me so hard that my knuckles had turned white. I didn't know what to do in this situation. I rationed I was fine with it so long as it didn't get worse. We were so close to each other maybe it was accidental?
I bit my lip to stifle a moan as a few moments later the hand grew bolder and began to squeeze and knead my ass cheek. Surely people were paying attention by now? But a glance from left to right showed men and women on their phones, staring straight ahead, or not paying attention t what was going on in general. That wasn't shocking to me at all. Every woman or man for themselves, I guess.
The hand moved between my ass cheeks and I felt long, thick fingers circling my puckered star. Thank God I was wearing panties, otherwise, I would be completely mortified at this point, though they were still thankfully touching me through my skirt. I tried to shift my ass away but my large purse against the pole prevented me from closing my legs very far to protect my most sensitive parts. I had nowhere to move!
At that point, I had to see who was doing this, male or female. I looked over my shoulder and saw a tall handsome man a few years older than I in appearance in a black suit and tie. He had shaggy brown hair and a strong jawline covered with a moderate amount of facial hair. His eyes were striking and hazel, staring up at the ceiling of the train to look inconspicuous as to what he was doing to me. He wasn't ugly but I wasn't going to say he was sexy either.
Things only went downhill from there. His free hand came around to my chest and began to grope and fondle my tit over my blouse. Fuck! Despite being bitty, my breasts were my ultimate weakness during sex. I loved to have them played with like this.
I bit my lip as his skillful fingers pinched and pulled my sensitive nipple. It became erect instantly through the cloth that separated it, much to his delight. I felt an unwilling spark of arousal between my legs as his hand abandoned my ass to cup my other firm globe to tug and pull on both of my nipples in synchronization now.
He somehow sensed he had hit the jackpot from my body's reactions. Sparks were flying straight to my pussy every time he manipulated my nips, and I knew I was starting to gather some moisture down there. He began to mercilessly pinch and jerk them, giving the two firm squeezes in between several harsh tugs.
