Vive La Frottage!!

I was in the Centre of the Universe [ Canada Division ], Toronto, on some business and was obliged to take public transit at the height of Rush Hour, during one of the more tropical moments in the fair city [ 40+C ]. thankfully I was dressed appropriately.. .clean white T-shirt with no annoying corporate slogan/logo, no statement or comment that could possibly offend anyone, anywhere and, most importantly, no crusty yellow stains under the armpits, topping a pair of decent length, pressed summer weight khaki shorts. I was, however, travelling in the ' Scottish style ' as I could not find clean white skivvies and the coloured ones could be seen through the light weight fabirc.

so, there I was strap hanging within a small pool of the sea of humanity, packed on a bus, not so much like sardines in a tin, but more like flaked tuna, trying to avoid eye contact or acknowledge that there were anyone else close at hand, enjoying the brief moments when the warm air generated by this press of flesh was replaced by fresher warmer air flowing through the open windows as the vehicle lurched from stop to stop.

I gradually became aware that the person in front of me had ' changed' at the last stop. Tickling my chin and lips was now a froth of brown curls, radiating the scent of fresh cut wild flowers to my nostrils. There was also a ' pressure' against my chest and stomach. I chanced a look down and tight against me was the soft curving back of a young woman in her prime.. A slight shift of one foot and I was welcomed with a view of the top of her white tank top straining to contain a deliciously rounded set of breasts, pert and perky and barely constained by the cotton..Obviously a view not generally allowed the casual observer..The bus obligingly shuddered a bit and she leant back against me with more pressure and I realized that the smootheness of her shirt against mine indicated that she was ' unrestrained'.. those lovely puppies were not strapped in!!

well, this elicited a feral response and I felt a shifting of my own in the lower abdominal region.. Quite a rapid response, actually given the exclusive view and, I was unable to ' disassociate ' myself from her proximity. The bus stumbled once more and my ' presence ' was more forcefully imposed on her torso.. I bit my lip waiting for the inevitable scream as she could not help but feel my stiffening resolve prodding the small of her back.. there was an awesome silence.. I found myself unable to find another focal point for my eyes and was rewarded by a moment of two of nipple freed from shirt and then rubbing once more against fabric..

Again, the bus shifted and so did we.. I was able to free my right hand which had been clutching a bottle of water and raise it above me to where my left hand held the strap.. I needed to wet suddenly parched lips.. This movement exacerbated my growing tumescence and,.at the same time, she turned in place from facing away to facing towards me, causing my manhood to track across her midriff, just below those pert and perky attributes to rest close within her sternum..

I was unable to ' withdraw ' and had no alternative but to attempt a distraction and grasp the cap of the bottle with a couple of fingers on my left hand, still clutching the strap, I attempted to unscrew the water bottle with my right and bring some liquid to my cracked lips and parched throat.

diabolically, the bus hit a pothole or other obstruction and some of the water, not more than an ounce or two sloshed from the lip..
There was nothing I could do.. It was Matrix bullet time.. I stood , aghast, as the thick droplets descended in slow motion past my arm and toward the floor..but not the floor.. no!.. directly into that open cleavage to caress the tops of those pert and perky puppies and to roll langorously into the deep and beckoning creavasse between them...

My reaction was visceral at one level and hopeless at the other..Below the belt I was suddenly ' pushing' her away, yet still in tight proximity, while my brain struggled to offer apologies for spilling on her..She, for her part, had reacted, too, to the intrusion of the liquid on her person. Shocked by the intitial touch of cool water she stiffened, her chest pushing out to press ever tighter against my groin and her breasts heaving to attention.. then a response to my apologies reassuring me that, the cool water was actually quite refreshing, the incident was too trivial to worry about, etc. etc. and so on.. She then noted that her stop was next and that she had to make her way to the exit..

Then, a brief miracle happened.. She reached up and with the briefest of grasps encircled my engorged member through my shorts and smiled up at me and said.. " Glad you enjoyed the view ."

and left..

I'm thinking of travelling by bus a bit more often...

Those Frenchies.. they have a word for everytthing.. " Frottage " ...
Bet you didn't try get her number though did you? Poofter.

Are you sure you're not confusing some letter in your favorite grot mag and reality?

Edit: TA_Sigs ability to type properly falls slightly behind his ability to lead a platoon attack against a colony of badgers... and his ability to set up a relay det in force 12 gale, whilst being beaten with BFH's and under attack from said (now annoyed) badgers... whilst staring down his oppo's frottage.
HA!! T.A.:

1] I'm an old married man and want to grow a bit older so having a young woman's phone number on my person would be cause for extreme prejudice from certain quarters..

2] I can send you the , now ' lightly stained ', subject khaki shorts for DNA analysis..

thankfully the press of humanity on the transit vehicle allowed the results of the encounter to go unnoticed [ I fervently hope ] the remainder of the trip...
Rocketeer said:
, her chest pushing out to press ever tighter against my groin ...
So she was a 3 foot midget then?
Woopert: I believe the word you are looking for is ' petite' ..

I could rest my chin on the top of her head in that confined space [ not that I did ] ..if in the course of my sketch of this incident I ' exagerated ' some dimensions.. I plead literary licence [ Can. Govt issue # A-7645/3433996 form C ]
Top man, Rocketeer. My opinion of you just went up several hundred points. I actually felt your 'oh crap' moment. Fantastic :D
I found that all strangely arousing. Would quiet like for some kind lady to come and relieve me... if anyone is not too busy.

More smut stories please.
As our beloved leaders are constantly encouraging us to use public transport more, would it not be worthwhile them planting a few "professionals" on the transport system to precipitate this sort of thing. They could work incognito, a bit like store detectives, and have a quota to fulfill daily. Once a few of us had experienced a nubile young wench like that grinding their moneymaker into your crotch on the bus/train/tube, we'd be fighting to get on there. You ladies would have the roads to yourselves, unless of course you're up for some of the same :wink: .
Reminds me of my ex uni's 'Go Commando' nights - free entry and a drink if you're dressed as a Commando or 'going scottish', photographic evidence was taken at the door and best contenders were posted on the net - there's a challenge for you to locate my old uni now! Although this occured at several unions around the country.

Some very interesting times on dance floors after a few to many £1 vodkas/pints were to be had...

There's not enough quality letching to be had on public transport these days, maybe I'm on the wrong services.
Not letching, T.A. , so much as ' surveillance '.

.given the recent unpleasantness in London, and this recent experience, I firmly believe one should be more vigilent in scrutinizing one's fellow travellers..From now on, when I do partake of public transit, I will make it my mission to keep close proximity to ravishing young women who may be potentially dangerous to good order. Heaven forbid that they should distract the driver or , perhaps, upset a captain of industry deep in thought over the economy, who may be communing with ordinary folk by journeying on a bus..

I'm also considering modifying my attire to allow for more freedom of movement so that I can respond in an emergency.. I think an 'au naturelle ' stance surmounted by a nice beige or ecru trenchcoat by London Fog in a light blend over black knee length socks held by garters, comfortable black Oxfords, would be most effective. The classic look is always best...
Mmmm nothing like a bit of 'close contact' on public transport - often brightens the day

P.S I am generally on the district line Mon-Fri!!! :lol:
There's not enough ladies like Flowers in the world.... Although Flowers may well be a great big hairy sweaty slightly perverse 40 yr old bloke calld Ramram.... Could be CGS (possibly, maybe, hopefully not). Just who knows?
flowers said:
Mmmm nothing like a bit of 'close contact' on public transport - often brightens the day

P.S I am generally on the district line Mon-Fri!!! :lol:
Can you give us an indication of timings :D :D
Rush hour generally! :lol:
It would be very pervy otherwise having a random man squash up against you in an empty carriage! 8O

You need extra bodies in there to make more of a reason to push back against a guy!

Crikey maybe I do need a bloke to 'play with' more than I thought!! :)

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