Message-ID: <5062eli$9710211715@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/5062.txt>
From: Senor Rojo <senor_rojo@bigfoot.com>
Subject: Girl on the Train (asian, mf, mast)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-Id: <v03110701b071bc58f02e@[207.171.231.80]>



*****

Note: This story is being posted in the alt.sex*
hierarchy. I'm old enough to be here. Are you?
If not, please read no further. Contains stuff that
you're not ready for yet. If you are not of consenting
age in your country, then you do not have the legal
right to (a) read this or (b) be in this newsgroup.

Batteries not included.

*****

This story and my other ones are available at
ftp://asstr.ml.org/pub/Authors/sr_rojo/

This story may not be distributed without my express permission, except to
public, unrestricted access sites such as this one.Å@These stories are
approved to be posted to usenet as long as this tagline remains intact.
Questions and criticisms to Senor Rojo (senor_rojo@bigfoot.com).

******

Girl on the Train

By Senor Rojo
Ben sighed, sweating profusely on the train. Why he had decided to ride the
Yamanote line during rush hour, he could not remember. Ugh, sweaty people
were crushing into him.

"Shibuya, stopping at Shibuya."

The doors snapped open, and a bunch of girls rushed in, surrounding him and
the other standing passengers in the train. The doors snapped shut, and the
train lurched on to the next station as Ben grabbed the strap.

Suddenly, he felt a familiar sensation; occasionally a woman or schoolgirl
would crush into him, and he would get to enjoy the only pleasurable
sensation that anyone _could_ enjoy during such a commute.

Ben looked down at the girl crushing into him, her forehead level with his
chin. She did not return his look. He could see the wire frames of her
glasses peaking through her short, shoulder length hair that hid her face.
He stared down the length of her, what he could see of the grey mini dress;
her bare arms swaying to the rhythm of the train. She moved against him --
he could feel her chest heaving against him, as the undulating of the train
pushed them against other people, and each other.

(Doh!) Ben tried to suppress it, but, as usual his tool had a mind of its
own -- and it was stirring. Ben tried to move his book bag in between
himself and the girl, but to no avail.

Ben winced as more people came in at Shinjuku, shoving him into the girl.
Ben sighed, and dozed as the heat and the staccato rhythm of the train
finally got to him. Suddenly, he felt hands at his waist.

(Pickpocket!) he thought, trying to move, too late. In the crush of people,
he couldn't get his arms down below the sea of flesh not his own. He could
feel hands at his waist shaking, and....???

Something was rubbing against his tool! He couldn't believe what he was
feeling! And in the crush of people he _still_ couldn't get his arms below
the shoulders of the sea of people around him. Suddenly, a small hand
started rubbing his hardness through his pants....faster....faster. As he
looked down at the girl, her face downcast, her body in the crush, the only
sign that she was excited were her nipples making points through the short
mini dress.

As the train rocked back and forth, Ben could feel the girl's legs shifting
in between one of his own, her hands increasing in tempo as his head began
to swim from the stuffiness in the train, and the girl's hands.

"The next stop is Harajuku. Harajuku is the next stop." The recorded voice
of the conductor took him by surprise, and he stiffened, coming in his
pants as the doors snapped open. With a start, the girl jerked her head
back, smoothed down the pleats of the dress, and in one fluid motion put
something in the front pocket of his trousers before getting off the train.

It was only after the doors snapped shut that Ben removed the what the girl
had put in his pocket. Ben had no trouble figuring out what the pungent
smell emanating from the card was. As he drank in her scent he read the
contents of the card:

Miyako Takahashi
Sign: Libra
Birthdate: Secret (^.^)
Pocket Bell: 03-3723-XXXX
Cell Phone: 08-6834-XXXX


Smiling to himself, he put the card up in his front shirt pocket, and sat
down in the now empty train for the ride home, covering his pants with the
backpack.

He hoped that no one would notice when he got off the train.

End.


~~~~Senor Rojo Mini-FAQ~~~~~
Numero Uno: "Yes, I am a sick cabron."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author, speaker of half truths in jest:
ftp://asstr.ml.org/pub/Authors/sr_rojo/
mailto:senor_rojo@*bigfoot.com
     (take out the '*' to reply)


-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/>    .../assm/faq.html> /