My name is Kacey. It all started on the trip to Washington D.C. in my senior year of high school. I was going to a private catholic school of all girls at the time. I did like that school, it was rather refreshing not having to worry about boy drama all the time and if I got up late I could go to school without makeup and not be a laughing stock.
I didn't need too much makeup, my face was clear and smooth and my skin was olive naturally. I got that from my pure Italian father. He was the stereotypical Italian right down to the natural need to love anyone in his path. He did it one too many times and my Mom caught him red-handed. Well, he had his hand down the pants of a redhead in a bathroom at church. Yep, literally red-handed.
That was the end of his living with us. He moved out, well, he gathered his stuff off the front lawn that afternoon. My mom had a little meltdown and my brother and I just cowered in our rooms. It was weird. So that was how I came to have no male role model in my life after 4th grade. My brother is one year older than me and he has been my protector ever since. Now that was about 12 years ago, my brother is in college and I am 18 and on my own in a sense.
Sorry, back to my story. My senior year we decided to go to Washington D.C. for our trip. We were all very excited and I could not wait. My girlfriends and I were stoked. I roomed with three other girls, we were all athletes and all pretty. I played soccer so I was in really good shape. My legs were strong and firm and my tummy was really flat. My mom was very jealous. However, in the last year I had started to really blossom so my curves were starting to become obvious on my relatively small frame.
I was 5'4" tall and about 110 pounds soaking wet. I had always been small and that wasn't changing even though my body was changing a little. My hips were now full and filled out jeans very nicely. My boobs had grown a couple of sizes and now I filled out the white shirt of our uniform pretty well. I normally opened only one button but now the second and third ones were a little stretched. I probably needed a bigger shirt, but it was my senior year and I figured I could make it a couple of more months. Speaking of our uniforms the plaid gray pleated skirt was really the thing that made me a little famous. My legs looked awesome coming out of the bottom of that skirt and with the socks and sneakers I have to admit I looked nice.
Trips to the mall were very exciting and my friends and I would get a kick out of all the men staring at us. We didn't do anything on purpose but were never at a loss of male admirers as we strolled through the mall. Some of them were a little obvious and that was a little creepy but still sort of exciting.
Ok, back to the story. We took a bus to D.C. That sucked, it was 10 hours straight and we were about ready to kill each other when we got there. It may sound exciting to think about 40 catholic high school girls on a bus but it was not, believe me. Sorry to pop the fantasy of scantily-clad young girls giggling and dancing but this was lots of hoodies, sweatpants, pillows, blankets, and a lot of bitching about pretty much everything. We got there at 11:00 at night and I just crawled into bed with my sweatpants and t-shirt. I think I fell asleep within seconds.
My alarm went off at 6:30 and that was lovely. I stumbled out of bed and crept slowly into the bathroom. I wanted to be first because my friends took forever. I made it a point not to look in the mirror, showered and put on a little makeup. I brushed my long hair and put it in a ponytail. I inherited my dark flowing hair from my father. I know everyone loves blondes but I will tell you I still got a lot of attention. I had on my normal school uniform with white lace bra and panties underneath. We had to wear our uniforms every day while we were there. That kinda sucked but probably was best, some of my friends would get a little carried away if they didn't have that rule. That part would fit into the stereotypical fantasy. I walked out of the bathroom and woke up one of my friends. I made sure she was in the shower before I went downstairs to breakfast.
I was one of the first in the breakfast area and that was nice. The peace and quiet was a treat after that bus ride from hell. All of the teachers were gathered around a table and I walked up to say hello. I liked my teachers, especially the ones that came on this trip. They told me we would be going to the Smithsonian and we were going to ride the subway to get there. I had never ridden a subway. Our town was too small for that. We only had one bus. I was a little excited to try something new. We were leaving at 8:00 so I settled in and ate breakfast.
We left the hotel and walked a block to the subway. We must have made quite a sight, 40 girls in uniforms walking down the street. We got lots of honks from passing cars. We went into the subway, they called it a Metro. It was very clean and nice. I was surprised. The teachers bought cards for all of us and ushered us through the turnstiles. We waited on the platform for the train. It was actually above ground. That was surprising too. The train came and we all crammed in. I got a seat towards the back of the car in a double bench facing the middle of the car. One of my friends sat next to me. There were not many people on yet. My teachers told us we had about an hour ride to get downtown. That seemed weird but I pulled out my cell phone and I figured I could burn that time up easily.
The next stop we pulled into had a lot of people waiting. They poured into the car and all the seats were taken. They started standing in the middle of the car. I looked up to see an old black man shuffling towards the back of my car. I jumped up and offered him my seat. He smiled and sat down and thanked me. My friend did the same and now the bench was filled with older people. I was standing in front of the man I gave my seat to and holding onto one of the hanging straps to balance. When I looked up I noticed my friends were now all closer to the middle of the car with a lot of people between us. I looked back down at my cell phone.
Our next stop is when it got a little silly. More people crowded on and it got really cramped. I was actually standing next to the bench I had been sitting on and my left leg was touching the bench. I looked down and saw my leg was between the legs of the old black man. He smiled at me and shrugged, I smiled back. There were people behind me and in front. It was so crowded that anytime the train moved I would feel their bodies touch me as they moved with the train. It was a little weird but I blew it off, everyone seemed to not think anything about it as I looked around. My friends were way up now and I could barely see them.
The train went underground so it got darker but I could still see my phone screen. However, now I couldn't see anything out the windows so I was a little blind. The train shifted a little and I lost my balance a little. I held onto the strap above me with my left hand but I fell a little towards the side of the car. I felt a hand on my leg and saw the old black man had caught me before I fell in his lap. He smiled as I regained my balance. His hand was on the front of my thigh, a little over my knee and his fingers were so long they wrapped halfway around my leg. It felt a little strange to have a man's hand on my thigh but he slid his hand down my leg and off as I stood back up.
I looked straight ahead. I was afraid to look at him. I was a little embarrassed as I had little experience with men touching me, especially older men. I had a couple of boyfriends before but they didn't last long with my soccer schedule and my Mom's over-protectiveness. Suffice it to say no boy had ever touched me anyplace really important and really nowhere else very often. I did not want to blush so I stared straight ahead and convinced myself it was accidental and he had actually helped me.
The train made another turn and it got even darker and I fell again. I swear it was not on purpose but he caught me again with his hand in the same place. I straightened up again but he didn't move his hand. He was holding my thigh and moving his fingers slowly across my smooth skin. I shivered and kept staring at my phone.
My mind was turning flips. I didn't know what to do, it felt a little wrong but I didn't want to make a scene. I convinced myself it was innocent and he was just keeping me from falling. I kept looking at my cell phone and then I felt his hand move up a little. I froze and bit my lip. He was now touching my upper thigh and I was very sensitive there. The train shifted and I fell towards him again. He squeezed my leg and I felt his other hand grab the back of my leg. I looked at him. He smiled at me and asked if I was ok. I nodded and he smiled again.
I stood up and now I had two hands rubbing my leg. Had I given him permission with my nod? I was confused now. I looked up and I could not see any of my friends or teachers. I looked behind me and there were about three deep in people to the back of the car. I noticed most of the people behind me were young black men. They all seemed nice and a few of them smiled at me. When did that happen? I turned back and gasped as I felt a hand slide up the back of my thigh, under my skirt, and touch me right under the edge of my panties. I felt a shiver run through me.