<i>So Cute. </i>I smiled as the cuddledork pushed her way onto the extra full carriage. I didn't know if there was a reason the train was extra full today. I always got on at the third coach from the front because that was where the exit to the tube was at the main terminus, part way down the platform so we don't have to go out  through the ticket barriers and back in again. Our eyes met for a split second but she looked away before I could wink at her.<br/><br/>She turned her back after boldly going where no man had gone before, crossing the final frontier into my personal space. It was odd really, there was usually a decent sized breathing room left around me, probably because I do have this intimidating look, a "don't fuck with me" appearance that tends to make people keep their distance. All except for my little cutie, who slotted herself into a gap between me and a short but rotund fellow in a bowler hat. (And yes people do still wear bowler hats!) He looked a bit surprised and actually took a half step backwards, to give her more space.<br/><br/>The door warning sounded and the doors closed with a hiss, click and thud, and we were off on the last half hour (or so) of the journey, non-stop into the city.<br/><br/>Cutie leaned against the partition between the standing area and the back of the nearest seats, and braided her long mousey-brown but luxuriously thick hair that honestly I was longing to take hold of and pull! I caught her eye briefly in the reflection in the opposite door - being tall has a lot of advantages.  She refocussed almost instantly, looking through the glass at the scenery rushing past beyond it rather than at it and my reflection, but not quickly enough that I didn't notice. And then someone shifted their position and I lost sight of her reflection.<br/><br/>Now I swear to the Goddess, the first time was a complete accident. I mean I was always thinking about doing something to this cute little waif with the oversized torso, but thinking and doing are two different things. See, about five kilometres out from the station she boarded at, there's a junction. Two tracks come swinging in from the left, cross underneath the left-hand track that our train is on and rise up between the two.<br/><br/>And from that point on there are four tracks heading into the city. Why four? Two fast and two slow. The outer two tracks have platforms at every station and the stopping trains call at them. The inner two tracks don't. But our train is on the outer left-hand track, a slow track. And there are at least three slow trains in front of us that we are going to get stuck behind, right? So the people in the signalling centre change a couple of sets of points so that we get switched to the inner left-hand track.<br/><br/>Yes the train slows a bit for this but it's still going about 50 kmh or 30 mph, more than enough, if you aren't expecting it, to spill your coffee as the train suddenly slews to the right and straightens up. I was hanging from an overhead strap by my right hand, and everyone swayed to one side then the other, and my left hand that was just dangling loose by my side came into contact with the soft curve of the shorty's backside.<br/><br/>Just for a moment, less than a second, but I felt an unexpected jolt through my nerves from that random contact. I have no idea what that jolt was. I am pretty sure it was just my imagination. I suppose it could have been a static charge off her skirt, but it didn't feel like electricity. It felt like sex. And I definitely wanted to do it again.