My (35, M) Fantasy about Being Groped on the Train

It has been a long day at the jewelry store where I am head manager and I am ready to go home. I check my watch, a shiny Rolex: 10:30 pm. Yikes! It is there to represent the company, the watch. We are all supposed to look the part. I bought a shiny new wedding band the day I got this new job as well. It is all part of the brand of a jewelry professional. Never mind that I had to finance the jewelry I wear. Yep, I couldn’t afford them, not even on a jewelry store manager’s salary. The company helped me out. The short trimmed beard, the suit, the financed jewelry. It is all there to represent success, luxury, the company brand.

I check my phone. There is a text from my wife. She wants me to buy some things at the shops. I laugh at myself, but also at my wife. I am a dual citizen (British American) and we and my wife (all American) moved here to England for my career. Jesus, getting her a visa was hard and I have thankfully blacked out much of the memory of that process from my mind. But holy cow, Jenn, what stores do you think are still open? Tesco it is. She says she will text me the list. I lock the door of the store, set the alarm, and head to the train station.

I’m sitting down on the train. I frown at the forty minute commute I need to take to take to work and back. I had to switch stores to move up with the company, and alas our house is on the outskirts of town. We can’t afford to live downtown. Not with these prices!

So there I am, texting my wife as you enter the train car. I definitely notice you as you walk into the train car, I’m not blind, just married. You are wearing a nice skirt, professional and a flattering but still modest top, probably commuting back home from work just like me. I take a quick glance and go back to my phone. My wife keeps adding stuff to the list. The screen of my phone is non-stop dot dot dots. You sit down beside me and I cough in disapproval. My British side has definitely taken over. I don’t make eye contact, just try to scoot as far away from you as possible and fold my arms. My body language says I’m not interested. I worked hard as hell to get my wife and toddler here and family is important to me. ‘I don’t cheat, go away’.

The train car is pretty empty. Why did you have to sit right next to me. Little do I know how lucky it is that I chose the window seat.

I go back to my phone, but register you unbutton a few buttons on your top. Your cleavage is more visible now. If I wanted to I could easily look down your top.

I don’t want to. THIS IS NOT HAPPENING! I go back to my screen. I make sure to hold my phone high, my expensive wedding band in your face.

I sigh. You put the back of your hand against my thigh. I feel your knuckles against me. I gulp a breath. ‘What’s going on.’ I am not positive but I thought I just felt you move your knuckles back and forth against my thigh. A jolt down my spine. A tingling sensation through my body.

There again. You did it again. Very subtle, almost unconscious rubbing against my thigh with your knuckles. Now you are wiggling your fingers. I take another quick inhale. Another tingling sensation shoots through my body. The expensive fabric of my suit pants makes it worse, magnifying every tough.

Please stop. Just stop.

I see your eyes look down, a smirk on your lips. Your touches are having the intended effect. I’m not hard, not yet. But I’m not flaccid either. I’m somewhere in between, but I know you can see a prominent bulge that wasn’t obvious before. Your smirk grows. You unbutton two more buttons on your blouse. Your cleavage is now prominent, even gaping.

I look back to my phone. The shopping list grows, not unlike something else. Finally, the list seems to end. A dozen or so products that I need to grab.

You won’t be ignored. You are done being subtle. You grab my dick over my pants. I look at you shocked, mouth agape.

You look me in the eyes and shake your head, a smile on your lips as you hold your finger over my lips. You gesture to the handful of other commuters sitting randomly around the train car. ‘Wouldn’t want them to catch on, would we’, you imply.

“Text your wife”, you whisper in my ear. You tighten your grip on my dick.

“What?”, I whisper back.

“Tell her you want her now”, you whisper back. I text my wife.

‘That’s abrupt’, my wife responds. ‘What made you think about that.

You whisper responses into my ear as you grope my dick over my pants. I am getting harder and harder as you roughly grope me over the fabric.

‘Your massive tits’, I text shivering, my anxiety growing. ‘Can you send me a picture of them.’

‘But you are almost home, can’t you wait.’

‘Now!’, I respond as you unbutton my pants.

My wife sends me a selfie, with her smiling and holding up her tshirt, baring her D cup tits. I look down, surrendering as you unzip my pants, pulling out my erect 7″ dick. You start pumping and stroking up and down.

“Not bad”, you whisper into my ear, eyeing up my wife on the screen. I sigh as you continue stroking my cock, trying not to moan.

You let go of my cock, taking the phone, typing in a message. You press send. I grab my phone from you, as you get back to stroking my dick.

‘I wish you were in the train with me and I was groping your titties. Full on fucking them with my hands. Rough and hard.’

I wait anxiously for my wife to reply.

‘Kinky, what has gotten into you Rich’, my wife writes.

“Continue, or I’ll stop”, you say, as you stroke me to the edge.

‘I want to be fingering you and I want your hands on my dick’, I write as I come close to the climax.

I tell you I am about to cum and say I don’t want to get it all over my suit. You stroke faster and faster, and just as I climax you bend down and take it all in your mouth. You swallow the mouthful of cum and without a word, just as quickly as you arrived you run out of the car at your stop. I zip myself up as I wait for the next stop where I get off.

This has been a crazy night!

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/vhis5d/my_35_m_fantasy_about_being_groped_on_the_train