Lisa felt the warmth of two fingers running up the back of her leg. She wondered if they would stop if she screamed; but really, she wondered if she wanted them to stop. They continued caressing her thighs for a moment, before finding their way upwards, reaching under her pleated skirt, massaging at first, but then grasping at her buttocks. The touch felt foreign and aggressive, yet she couldn’t help but to lean back into it, giving her unknown assailant even more to grasp at.
As she stood in the middle of the train car, she glanced without moving her head to see if anyone else around her had noticed her situation. If she tried to lurch forward, she would land on the man dozing in front of her on this early morning commute. She was closely surrounded on all sides by others in their normal morning ritual, sipping coffee or reading news on their phones. As the hand grew bolder, rubbing along the gap between her inner thighs, Lisa felt not only vulnerable, but also a bit excited. As the fingers began working their way along the bottom of her black panties, she became undeniably aroused, her body betraying her mind as the situation evolved. Or was it?