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Past Blogs: BBWTALES gathered speed again and started its regular gentle rocking, I froze, then gasped quietly... there was a hand on my bottom, coming from behind, a large male hand gently caressing the curve of my buttocks, one finger pressing up against my skirt, between my thighs. I clamped my buttocks together, but the hand didn't retreat. I dared not try to look around, but just stood there. After all, in this crowd, what man would dare do more than the most surreptitious fondling? I might as well enjoy it... and I relaxed against the hand, opening my thighs and shifting slightly so the material of my skirt was freed up and there was space for his fingers to move. My breathing became shallow and excited as the hand explored my buttocks, the crack between them, and then tried to follow around and under, between my legs. My skirt prevented that, but he could tell I wasn't wearing any knickers. Another jolt of the train and our relative positions changed, so that he was standing directly behind me, and I could feel through his trousers a most impressive hardness nudging at my bottom.
