Be careful who you perv onSubmitted by w_t_a_y_s_t_r_m at 2009-05-07 12:22:15 EDT
Rating: 1.65 on 63 ratings (63 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
My train into work every morning is shit. I don't know why, what with me having some level of intelligence and those in charge seeming to be faceless bunch of assholes who probably get a private helicopter into work each day to avoid the hell that is London transport. There's never enough space, enough trains, enough air, enough anything, except conflicting body odour.
At first I thought that it's just a problem for big fat bastards like me, but from the glum looks on everyone else's face, it's them too. My station is the start of a bottle neck for about four different routes, so even if you decide to wait for the next train, it will be just as busy. So everyday I just about manage to get on a train, typically squashed in an aisle between another fat fuck and a dog ugly woman. Whenever I can, I'll take a spot by the doors so that when we stop at another station and people open them looking in helplessly for a bit of space to force their way into with their suitcases, pushchairs and children I can get a bit of a breeze that can relax me so much.
This morning was just such an occasion where I had positioned myself facing towards the front of the train, right next to the doors. It's the closest thing I can get to a fun journey in.
Two stops later, the train which had no room on it to begin with had another fifty or so people onboard, so hardly anyone could even lift their hands, let alone manouver. We came in to the stop, and a young woman, probably about 26 or 27 managed to just about make it on to the train. Much like everyone else, her arms were pinned to her sides. This woman wasn't too bad to look at generally speaking. She certainly wasn't a knock-out stunner or anything, but she had a nice face, long, dark hair and quite a nice figure. The only thing that really stood out was the size of her chest.
I'm not really one for the large, oversized breasts. I'm just happy with a pleasant handful, I don't need more than that. She had a handful for maybe Galactus, but no one else. And they were impressively firm. She either had good DNA or a great bra. There seemed to be no sag in them at all.
As the train doors closed on her, her chest and feet were blocking the doors. She managed to shuffle her feet back a bit, and was even able to push her top half back a bit to make room, and the doors quietly slid back into place. This was followed by a quiet 'pop' and then the rattle of a small piece of plastic hitting the floor.
The force of this lady moving backwards had somehow caused the top button of her already straining shirt to pop off. The only ones who could really see was me and the guy stood on her other side, but this didn't stop her panic. However, with her arms stuck, she couldn't really do anything about it, and as she was wriggling her arms and shoulders around, there was another 'pop' as the next button came off.
Now she was pretty much exposing full bra, which just cupped the bottom half. I just did my best not to stare, not wanting to offend the girl, who learnt her lesson and just stayed still. The guy stood opposite me, however, could not stop staring.
"Excuse me," He said after a short while. I turned with complete horror, not believing he was actually going to try and break the ice. "I can see your chest."
"Well maybe you should stop looking then." She was surprisingly calm about all this.
"I want to, but I just can't." He almost sounded breathless.
After another seven or eight awkward minutes of silence (except for panting) the train arrived at London Bridge. With a lot of effort, I positioned my shoulder and pressed the "Door Open" button. With a bit more space to move, the woman turned sideways, pulled the top of her shirt closed with her right hand, and with her left, swung a well placed fist into the man's sack.
"Fucking pervert." She said, walking towards the exit.
As I stepped past the now doubled over man, I swear I heard him say "Score."