EXTRACT FOR
Tokyo Shark
(Kelly Addams)

Ayumi Tanaka had always considered herself well balanced, even if her fashion sense did shift like the wind. She just liked to try new things, and a few old things she reminded herself as her kogal phase drifted up from memory... not that it had been that long ago. Sixteen had seen her rebellion truly start, and for strict parents the flirtatious school uniform that became her street wear was the perfect weapon, demure white blouse and expression... combined with heavy make-up and a navy blue skirt so short that her frilly white panties were always on display. She had been a tease, but it had been fashion and the young Ayumi really had no idea what she was doing to her more mature male audience, it was a look that drove men crazy... right down to the virginal white socks that she always wore crumpled and around her slender ankles above black platform boots.

She had certainly drawn attention to herself, sometimes the wrong attention as she found herself frequently touched and accidentally groped when she was crushed into the subway trains. So much humanity pressed tightly together, body against body. Often she felt the solid bulge of a hard cock pressed against her firm buttocks or thigh, sometimes fingers would press against her ass or mound, she had even experienced a time when a hand had been pressed flat against her pert breast. But she had learned to accept it, every young woman in Tokyo knew she was going to get groped accidentally or openly at least half a dozen times each month... and usually much more than that. It was a fact of life, but she soon understood that the teasingly innocent kogal look fed the fire considerably.

Ayumi moved on to the next and most extreme stage of "gal" fashion, manba, the application of overly dark make-up and fake tan combined with white markings around her eyes and white lipstick, almost a reverse Goth many westerners said who saw her. As an act of rebellion and a deterrent against gropers it had worked perfectly, but Ayumi soon accepted that it really wasn't her. She loved the lighter kogal lifestyle, and she was particularly well suited, she came from the right background, she moved in all the best circles, and manba style was gradually alienating all but her hardcore friends.

It had also attracted only the wrong boys, and as Ayumi turned eighteen that suddenly began to make a great difference. She had been developing feelings, she had been drawing strange sensations from the attention she was receiving again on the subway. She found that she was travelling more often at peak times, she was selecting the most crowded carriages, and by not wearing a bra she was drawing attention to the tight tube tops she had begun wearing. Standing on the bustling platform she felt her little raisin-like nipples begin to harden in anticipation, a pair of pronounced nubs that showed clearly through the tight elastic fabric of her top. Often she would stare into space in the carriage as though nothing untoward were happening in the crush as a hard cock pressed against the crack of her ass, or fingers traced the shape of her mound through her short skirt. 

I must give off some sort of aura she decided one day as a hand lingered against her naked thigh and a thumb lifted to press against the damp gusset of her white cotton panties. How do they always seem to know I won't complain or make a scene. She had seen other girls and their reaction to the compulsory groping, she had heard the shouting, the insults, she had witnessed onlookers take the offended girl's side in condemning, the same men who would have probably been doing the groping themselves had they been standing closer! 

But they seem to know they can get away with it with me. The thumb twitched but Ayumi remained passive. There was still a good distance to go before her stop, and in her heart she knew that the groper wouldn't be going anywhere until she did, even if he did pass his own stop. She wanted to look down but knew it would be pointless, she was pressed against him tightly, she was trapped on all sides so effectively that she could have lifted her feet from the floor and still not fallen.

His thumb stroked the gusset again and Ayumi felt a shiver run through her body, no-one had ever been so forward or intrepid before, his confidence was offensive and arrogant in a way, yet still her lips were sealed. Surely he isn't that bold she questioned in silence as the thumb worked to get under the now soaking cotton. 

Damn he is! Ayumi stifled a groan as he eased her underwear aside and traced between her hairy labia, it was the most audacious thing she had ever experienced, and the most erotic... and at that exact moment she didn't care who he was, she didn't care how old, his social standing... she didn't want to see his face and she sure as hell didn't want a name... she was focussed on one thing only... the thumb that had begun to slide up inside her. 

On the subway, he's doing this to me on a public train... Ayumi closed her eyes and bit her lip. And I haven't said a word, I haven't even tried to wriggle away or get my own hand down there to stop him... Am I a slut?

I must be she decided as a shiver ran through her body. His thumb was buried deep and moving, curling forward to rest behind her pubic bone, gently pressing and massaging a super sensitive spot that was beginning to make her head spin and her breath come in silent gasps. He was an expert, and he knew just how and where to touch her...

And to her shame, Ayumi clenched her teeth and submitted to the orgasm that she had been fighting so hard.

I really am a slut she told herself as her mind began to clear and she found her pussy to be suddenly devoid of stranger thumb. The train had stopped, he had stepped away... and she had been too far gone to notice his departure!