It's Thursday Thrills again. Pop by the blog and check out all the other stories based on this picture.
The tube was packed, which didn't really surprise her. She usually stayed in the office a few minutes later just to avoid a crush like this. If she didn't have a date, and an early one, she would never have tried to travel at this time. She reminded herself to pinch Deidre the next time she saw her for setting this up.
Worse, she had to do a wardrobe change en route. Not a complete change, she wasn't an exhibitionist or anything, but she would swap her sweater for a glittery shawl and her pony tail for a pair of sparkling combs, and her shoes. All easy enough at her normal time, but it was difficult to spread her arms with so many people packed in the car.
She started with the easiest, her shoes. She fumbled in her oversized bag and pulled out the heels. Dropping them on the floor in front of her, she stepped out of her flats and into the heels. Spreading her feet she bent to pick up the flats.
She stopped with her hand not quite touching the shoes. A hand was on her ass. She tried to tell herself it was an arm or a hip, but it was definitely a hand. It cupped her cheek, squeezing, then slid toward the center. She held her breath. Should she hold still? It didn't feel bad, but...she shouldn't be doing this. Snatching her flats, she straightened quickly, stuffing them in the bag.
Turning, she tried to find the culprit. There were four men in reach. One was reading the paper but had a free hand, it might be him. Another had his phone out and was typing with both thumbs. Probably not. The third was eating a sandwich and leaning on one of the only posts. Nope. The last had his hand in his pocket. Her eyes narrowed, suspect identified. Sniffing, she looked away but kept him in the corner of her eye.
Dropping her bag, she unfastened the button on her sweater, revealing the sleeveless satin top beneath. She fanned herself for a moment, glad to have that off. Bending, she tucked that in the bag as well.
Her head turned to the right, looking for the man with his hand in his pocket. There he was, hands to himself. So who was touching her? They slid down her thigh and up under her short skirt. She looked over her left shoulder, but by then the groper had gotten his feel and backed away.
Nearly growling, she took the combs from her bag and pulled out the elastic holding her hair back. Reaching up she began pinning her hair.
Hands circled her from behind, ghosting over her ribs. Instinctively, she lowered her arms, catching those of her admirer. He didn't move, breath on her neck.
"Go on," a soft voice urged. "Finish. You know you want to."
He was right. Trembling slightly, she pinned the other side. Thin, agile fingers teased her breast and nipple, another hand worked up her thigh, under her skirt. The train stopped and started, people shifting around them, jostling them.
How could she be doing this? What were people thinking? She dared a glance around and noticed the man that still had his hand in his pocket. He was watching her and grinning. His hand moved slowly.
"I have to go at the next stop," the voice warned. It didn't sound right, high pitched. "I hope you'll take the same train tomorrow."
The woman eased her way past and she gaped. It had been a woman? Picking up her bag, she gripped it and then pulled out her shawl, suddenly very chill. She got off a Piccadilly, and so did Mr. Hand-in-my-pocket. She hurried away from him, eager for this date to start so it could end. Her body still tingled and it boggled her to know a woman's hands had made it feel that way.
"Reservation for Addler," she said to the hostess.
"Yes, follow me."
She had arrived before her date, so she used the time to touch up her makeup quickly in the washroom. Returning to her seat she found the man from the train.
"I think you might have the wrong table," she told him.
He looked her over carefully. "I don't. I'm Jason Addler."
She fought tears. This was the man Deidre had set her up with. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't think I can do this."
He stood and held her hand, urging her to sit. "Please, Mary, sit. It's all right. I...Don't think about it."
She put her head in her hands. "I can't believe that just happened. I can't believe you saw it. I've never-"
"Never?" he asked surprised.
"No! There's a reason I'm on a date with you and not a woman."
"Oh, I knew that, but I didn't presume to know what it was. I have to say, if you ever wanted-"
"Please stop," she said her face flush.
"Only if you promise not to rule out the idea entirely."
She closed her eyes and felt thin, agile fingers moving over her again. "Okay."
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