Travelling in to work on Tuesday this week I was stood on the Tube (London Underground Central Line) from Hanger Lane all the way through to Oxford Street pressed up against the hottest guy I have ever seen. Think of the perfect body, he had it. Think of perfect dress sense, he had it. Think of someone so good looking he puts the Hollywood "A" list to shame and that it was him. Twenty years my junior I guess but I could not keep my eyes off him and took every opportunity (jerk in the movement of the train) to bounce my chest off his arm as I held the handrail above my head. By Marble Arch, with only a couple of stations to go, the train was so rammed I was in constant contact with his body and even managed to contrive to have a few brief grinds of my lap on his hip. God I wanted him to notice and say something. In truth I think he knew completely what was happening but had no interest in me or in making a scene. Anyway I got off the train with my panties pretty much saturated and stuck to me. I got to work 10 minutes later really uncomfortable and had to go to the loo to freshen up but in a cubicle alone I did to myself what I so wished he had done to me.