This was several years ago. I used to feel so gross for it, but I would imagine that I was on a later, empty train with the man, that I would’ve been preyed on and devoured instead of just felt him have his taste. He was old and breathing raggedly. He looked dirty. He was a big man though. He kept rubbing my ass, which in my naivety I might have written off, but I could see his hand in his pocket, vigorously rubbing his cock. I was too nervous at the time to bend over, give him something more to grope onto, but I could sense he really liked it that I was nervous and uncomfortable and I ended up just standing stiffly while he touched, stopped and repeated. It’s something I can’t help start pulsing over if I think about it, like I am now.