Kate had just flown into the airport in Rome and was looking forward to a nice week touring the museums, palaces, cathedrals and ancient historical sights. Later in the week she was meeting up with some friends in Venice but for now she liked the adventure of seeing Italy on her own. But Kate also found out that because of a huge international soccer match the following day in Rome, that it was impossible to get a hotel room. So she had booked her trip with a train ride up to Florence this evening and a nice small hotel near the Uffizi Museum.
The cab ride from the airport to the downtown train station was harrowing. It appeared that the cabbie was trying to prove that he was capable of being a world famous international race car driver. The fortunate part of her race to the station was that she managed to get on the train with five minutes to spare. She settled back in her compartment as the train was just pulling out. Not feeling too tired yet, she pulled out a book and sat back to relax and enjoy some scenery as the sun was setting. Her compartment was otherwise empty her and she had noticed that the train itself had very few passengers aboard. It probably had something to do with the soccer match she thought. As she watched the darkness take over the countryside, Kate began to read and bought a coffee and some crackers from the vendor who was going from compartment to compartment. She felt content.
About a half hour into the trip, her compartment door opened and three burly, rough looking Italian men entered her compartment and sat down across from her. They looked like laborers with their broad chests and thick necks visible through their open shirts. One attempted to say something to her in Italian but she made it clear that she only spoke English. They seemed to be in active conversation about this when one of the men got up and walked across to sit down beside her.
"You from New York, lady," he asked her in very passable English.
"No, I am from Boston," Kate replied. She was surprised he spoke any English and was a bit put off by his closeness to her.
"Ah, Boston, I like Boston. North End is good place," he said. His eyes roamed her body and seemed to rest on her breasts before dropping further. She knew her legs were sticking out of her skirt showing her smooth skin several inches above her knees.
"Yes, the North End is very nice," she answered politely.
"You very pretty woman. Tell me your name," he asked as his eyes were back on her breasts again.
"I am Kate," she said as she hoped this conversation would end soon.
"I am Enzo. I see you are alone and I am glad we can keep you company on the train," he told her as his hand reached out and lightly touched her on her leg just below the hem of her skirt. He was smiling as his hand rubbed lightly.
"Enzo, please don't touch me. Thank you but I really am not looking for company," Kate told him with as much force and firmness as she could muster. His size and strength was intimidating. She took hold of his wrist and attempted to push his hand away. But he just smiled at her and she felt his grip on her leg tighten. While this was happening, she failed to notice that one of the other big men had moved to sit on the other side of her. His hand also came to rest on her leg and she snapped her head to her left to see this man also smiling at her as he too stroked her leg. Looking back to Enzo, she saw him looking at her breasts again. Her tight black top was cut a bit low and allowed him to see a good glimpse of cleavage and the swell of her sizable tits. As she watched him his hand rose from her leg and moved to capture her right breast in his big hand.
