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Anything Goes
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Straight Male / 31
I'm A Guy But I Think I Got Touched On A Train
I was once commuting home on a crowded London Underground train. I was standing by the door at the end of the carriage, reading a book, as I usually did. During rush hour there's no chance of getting a seat, and I preferred just to stand at the end anyway, to avoid the hassle of moving every time people wanted to get on and off.
At some point, lots of people were crowded into the space I was in, and a guy was standing in front of me, facing me. He was shorter than me, probably mid-20s, dressed in office casual attire. I wasn't really paying any attention to the people around me, but at some point I noticed that as the carriage rocked slightly, something kept accidentally brushing very briefly against the tip of my penis. I was wearing skinny jeans, and I'm of an OK size - 5" when soft.
I figured the guy's leather satchel he was holding in front of him was being jolted into me, and unintentionally I began to get hard. I didn't look up or around, I just continued reading and my dick was basically straining to spring up, but was pinned against my leg by my jeans.
Soon though, I realised the thing bumping into me very subtly was actually kind of brushing across the head of my cock more frequently and boldly. I realised the guy must be feeling my cock, especially as it seemed to be responding and growing harder. Nobody else would have been able to see or notice this, as I was standing with my back to the end of the carriage, and he was effectively against me in front, with his satchel blocking any view from the side. As we stopped at another station, I took a quick glance at the people getting on and off, and for a second I looked at him to gauge if it was actually just his bag accidentally brushing against me, or if it was him. He didn't look at me, and I couldn't conclusively tell anything from his expression.
As we continued, the brushing against me continued, and I have to admit it felt good and sort of exciting. At the same time, however, I felt really angry. This guy was taking liberties and I think the sense of this not being consensual pissed me off that he thought he could get away with it. For a split second I was about to very loudly tell him in front of everyone that if he touched me again I would break his nose. But I didn't. I just buried my head in my book, feeling my head burning with a mix of embarrassment and confusion and anger.
Eventually, we arrived at my stop and I got off. I still think about this experience years later, although it doesn't bother me in any big way. I think in all honesty, I was sexually assaulted. It gives me an understanding of how a lot of women feel - who are almost universally targeted like this. Being touched without consent, or subtly assaulted in situations where the perpetrator can get away with it and claim innocence ("I don't know what you're talking about" or "it was probably my bag, sorry").
I understand the mixture of confusion and anger. Despite the fact it can actually feel good sexually, or may even be something you'd want to do if you gave consent, it makes you feel angry and violated. It's the arrogance that someone thinks they can touch your body like that without your permission, and get away with.
I think if I'd had time to think about it properly and decided I was OK with it, I'd have let him do it and enjoyed the experience - because I'd given him the go ahead. But as it was, I sort of regret not shoving him off me and embarrassing him in front of the carriage. Just to show him I'm in charge of my own body, not him.
At some point, lots of people were crowded into the space I was in, and a guy was standing in front of me, facing me. He was shorter than me, probably mid-20s, dressed in office casual attire. I wasn't really paying any attention to the people around me, but at some point I noticed that as the carriage rocked slightly, something kept accidentally brushing very briefly against the tip of my penis. I was wearing skinny jeans, and I'm of an OK size - 5" when soft.
I figured the guy's leather satchel he was holding in front of him was being jolted into me, and unintentionally I began to get hard. I didn't look up or around, I just continued reading and my dick was basically straining to spring up, but was pinned against my leg by my jeans.
Soon though, I realised the thing bumping into me very subtly was actually kind of brushing across the head of my cock more frequently and boldly. I realised the guy must be feeling my cock, especially as it seemed to be responding and growing harder. Nobody else would have been able to see or notice this, as I was standing with my back to the end of the carriage, and he was effectively against me in front, with his satchel blocking any view from the side. As we stopped at another station, I took a quick glance at the people getting on and off, and for a second I looked at him to gauge if it was actually just his bag accidentally brushing against me, or if it was him. He didn't look at me, and I couldn't conclusively tell anything from his expression.
As we continued, the brushing against me continued, and I have to admit it felt good and sort of exciting. At the same time, however, I felt really angry. This guy was taking liberties and I think the sense of this not being consensual pissed me off that he thought he could get away with it. For a split second I was about to very loudly tell him in front of everyone that if he touched me again I would break his nose. But I didn't. I just buried my head in my book, feeling my head burning with a mix of embarrassment and confusion and anger.
Eventually, we arrived at my stop and I got off. I still think about this experience years later, although it doesn't bother me in any big way. I think in all honesty, I was sexually assaulted. It gives me an understanding of how a lot of women feel - who are almost universally targeted like this. Being touched without consent, or subtly assaulted in situations where the perpetrator can get away with it and claim innocence ("I don't know what you're talking about" or "it was probably my bag, sorry").
I understand the mixture of confusion and anger. Despite the fact it can actually feel good sexually, or may even be something you'd want to do if you gave consent, it makes you feel angry and violated. It's the arrogance that someone thinks they can touch your body like that without your permission, and get away with.
I think if I'd had time to think about it properly and decided I was OK with it, I'd have let him do it and enjoyed the experience - because I'd given him the go ahead. But as it was, I sort of regret not shoving him off me and embarrassing him in front of the carriage. Just to show him I'm in charge of my own body, not him.
