While I knew that playing dead or freezing didn't actually work for bears or wildcats -- a very real and present danger back home-- I thought for a moment it could work for human predators. Didn't they get off on resistance? Maybe just men. I know for me I'd much rather someone be into it than not, but I also wasn't what I, or really anyone, would consider an aggressor, let alone a predator. To be fair I'm not even sure what I wanted. Did I want her to stop? Did I want her to keep going?<i>No way she had two hands on my ass now.</i>Doing nothing certainly wasn't a deterrent, so my next logical step should have been to pull away... but I didn't. I mean, it was just over my skirt anyway. Was there really any harm? What would even happen if I addressed it that would have any kind of desirable outcome, anyway? What the hell was a desirable outcome h--<br/><br/><i>Oh my god she she's pulling up my skirt</i><br/><br/>My back straightened to the point where I felt a pull behind my left shoulder blade when she lifted my skirt out of the way and then her hands were on my skin, barely impeded by my panties and only me and God knew how equally terrified and turned on I was in that moment. There weren't words. I couldn't stop the small, sharp intake of breath when her fingers dipped low and goosebumps rose on my skin.<br/><br/><i>How the hell did no one notice this?!</i>There wasn't a soul looking in our direction. Was that on purpose?! It had to be statistically impossible that no one looked in this direction! And yet there I was, receiving what was frankly the hottest massage of my pathetic life.<br/><br/><i><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'">"Ladies and Gentlmen we will shortly be arriving at the London Terminus. When leaving the train, please make sure you have all your personal belongings with you, and thank you for travelling with us this morning."</span></i><br/><br/>I didn't realize I'd held my breath until she let go of me and a whoosh of air passed my lips. Everyone was gathering their things and making ready to leave and I still stuck like a deer in the headlights. Or, maybe I was the headlights because my nipples were tight against my blouse. I could almost believe I had imagined the whole ordeal-- maybe I just had a vivid daydream-- but then she spoke to me and I could have died right there.<br/><br/><b><i>"See you tomorrow"</i></b><br/><br/>Dear God of All Lost Gays, her<b>voice</b>. It should have been illegal to be literal sin in skin AND have a voice like that. The accent would have been enough to make me swoon but Christ on a Ritz Cracker she could read me the phone book and I'd melt. If I thought I'd never see her again, her saying those 3 simple words completely threw that idea right out the window. When she walked past me, I realized I needed to hurry my ass up and get off the train. I had to get to work! I bent at the knees to grab my bag and headed out to the platform. I didn't look up as I hurried out of the station and damn-near sprinted to work, least anyone see my blush, or worse, had seen what I'd allowed.