Chikan is the Japanese word for pervert. It used mostly for men who inappropriately touch women on the subway. I know this because my roommate has this thing about Japanese porn. I never really paid much attention to his movies, that is until I became a chikan. I didn't set out to become one, it just sort of happened.
It was a typically morning commute. The subway, as usual, was jammed packed with souls traveling to work. By the time I got on, there were no seats and only a few places let to stand. Two stops later, those places were gone and the train was bursting with people. The train pulled into the next station and I watched with amusement as people pushed and shoved their way on decreasing even further the amount of personal space. Looking down I couldn't even see the floor, but just a mass of shoes and legs of various shapes, colors and sizes.
Holding on a silver metal pole for support, I listened to my favorite podcast and trying not to bump into my neighbors. As the train swayed back and forth, contact was inevitable. Riding the train means assuming the risk of unwanted human contact. It typically was an unwanted bump, nudge or elbow in ribs, at worst it was a stolen wallet.
The train rocked to the left has it turned in a tunnel, as I tried to shift my weight to compensate for the force, my hand accidentally slammed into the backside of the woman standing a few inches in front of me. Immediately I regained my position and instinctively mumbled "excuse me" in a soft voice. What was striking was that she didn't flinch or respond. She acted as if nothing happened. "Well, at least she didn't turn and slap me." I thought gratefully.
Then a couple of things happened: first, it dawned on me how soft, yet firm her ass felt. Then I remembered those Japanese movies that my roommates watched, where some Japanese business man would grope some well-dressed hot japanese chick on the subway. I cracked a smile. The more I thought about it the more I started to catch wood.
Let me check this chick out.
She was petiit, about 5'5'' in heels, She was older. Her gray teased collar length hair, matched her conservative, serious manner. She looked like an attorney or accountant. Not enough flair to be a banker. She was fit, with a slim figure and slightly plump butt. I liked the outfit: a tight fitting green business suit, tan stockings and green pumps. I have to admit I have this thing about women in business suits. Granted, not my grandmother in a business suit, but having just felt her ass, I was ready to put that aside.
Looking back, I must have been a total idiot to take such a risk. But what can you say, I got lucky. I scanned the crowd and noted that everyone had their head in a book, paper or was just not paying attention. I was curious that she didn't react at all, when my hand slammed into her ass a few minutes ago. So, I thought I'd nudge her again and see what would happen. As the conductor announced the next stop, l let my hand drop in front of me. Slowly and deliberately I firmly brushed it against her right butt cheek. It slid firmly against her backside, dragging along the coarse fibers of her wool skirt, while sensing the textures her undergarments. As I approached her crack, I quickly lifted my hand away and looked around for any reaction.
Success!! Except for her rocking back and forth with the motion of the train, she made no movements whatsoever. She just held the pole with one hand and clutched her brown leather purse and an expensive looking laptop bag in the other.
As we pulled away from the last station, more people had squeezed on to the subway car and personal space completely disappeared. I made sure that i did not lose contact with the woman. Instead, now, we were right next to each other, so close that I could smell her perfume.
It had a subtle, flowery scent. It smelled expensive. My body flowed with adrenal. I hadn't done anything like this before, and it was complete exhilarating. My self-restraint went out the door at the last stop. I became even bolder, almost challenging her to do something. Again dropping my hand, I deliberately grabbed her butt. I didn't squeeze, I just palmed it, like a basketball player palms a basketball. It fit nicely in my hand. I held it there for a few seconds. Again, no reaction.
Suddenly the train came to a stop on the tracks, jolting the subway car occupants. The conductor announced that there is a delay on the train line and that we will sit here for a few minutes. I waited for the commotion to settle down and before I resumed my activities. Within a few minutes, my hand was back on her ass. This time I was softly rubbing her round bottom, freely caressing her bum.
She again offered no resistance. Maybe she likes it., I closing my eyes and focusing all my senses on my fingers.
With each success, I became more emboldened. Slowly my hand journeyed down her leg, genteelly running my fingers along her skirt, looking for the hymn of her skirt. Glancing down I noticed that her skirt cut at her knees and that it would be too obvious if I bent down to lift it up. So, I again goosed her, placing my hand right the crack of her ass. I gently as possible grabbed her skirt and began to pull it up. I looked around every few seconds but had not been sighted by anyone. I raised her skirt up a few inches, then let it drop, acrobatically putting my hand underneath the falling garment before it returned to its normal length.
She flinched as my hand touched the back of her thigh and doubled the grip on her purse and bag. I stopped cold, my hand hanging under her arched skirt. I stood motionless for a few seconds waiting for her next reaction. It never came. So, I continued my exploration.
At first it was just a few gentle brushes, that grew to rubbing and caressing as my hand melted in the sheer silky pattern of her pantyhose. I journeyed along the edge of her panties, slowly reading the combination of her underwear and her flesh. Her skirt hung over my forearm like a hanger, my fingers walking between the smooth strands of her pantyhose. As the subway roared between stations, I began to take even greater liberties, squeezing her ass and even sliding my fingers between her legs touching the outskirts of her mound.
Still she stood motionless as my hand discovered and groped her most intimate areas. I have come this far and I wanted it all. My hand moved rapidly up her waist, obviously looking for something. It didn't take me long to find it. I fingered the tops of her pantyhose, testing the elastic top. In one motion my hand went sliding inside them, pulling her toward me. She still didn't utter a word or express any indication of my invasion.
My hands disappeared into her cotton panties. Her smooth, supple flesh filled the spaces between my fingers as my hand explored her bare skin. Her body was next to mine, slighting bumping into me with the vibrations of the train. I wasted no time as my index finger explored her canyon between her buns, grazing her pooper shoot.
Not stopping to explore, my fingers soon found her most private of places. Her mound was shrouded in a thick patch of hair, into which my fingers dove. Soon, her crotch was completely under my control and began to explore and play in her womanhood. First, I found and stimulated her clitoris. I could hear her breathe deepen as my fingers stimulated her love organ. Then I caressed her moist lips and spread them open enough to slip a few fingers between them. She just stood there as I touched her labia and the opening to her love canal.
I wanted to burst with jism. I slowly and very gently probed her pussy with my fingers and inserted two fingers all the way inside her. She moaned and leaned against me for support. Her hole was warm and tight. At first the walls of which stuck to my fingers as they bore in and out of her, then they loosened as I could feel her moisture increasing. I started out slowly sliding my fingers up and down, but soon my wrist was sore with the rapidity of my fingering.
After a minute or so, of really rapid fingering, She let out an audible moan, her puss clamped around my fingers and her cream collected in my palm. I slowly pulled my fingers out of her and spread her cream along the side of her thigh and her back, as I pulled her underwear and stocking back into place.
I was soooo horny now. I had to finish myself. So, I let go of the pole with my other hand and quietly unzipped my fly and pulled my dick out. Pulling my hand out of her underwear and pantyhose, I held her still as I began to rub my fully erect knob up and down the outline of her crack. My tip ran along the grooves in her pantyhose, extra sensitive to the silky smooth fabric and the silk panties underneath.
As the conductor announced my stop, I released, soaking her backside with my seed.
Realizing what I had done, I immediately zipped up letting her skirt return to its normal place and darted into the crowd moving toward the door. Outside the subway car, I looked back. She was anxiously looking around, pressing the back of her skirt to her body. We made eye contact for a second, her large brown eyes looked puffed and swelled, like she was about to cry. Her red lips were turned into
Lost in the vast humanity, I could hear screams and shrieks behind me. Soon, I watched as subway and regular police ran opposite me. Smiling, I continued on my way to work.
Thanks for reading! Any constructive comments are welcome.
