Work Text:
Kanako is lucky that she made it on to her usual train this morning. It had been thundering when she had woken up, and she had been afraid that she would be late. It wouldn't do for her to be late again, especially when she had already received a warning for it earlier in the month.
The sky had been dark and foreboding, but she hadn't thought too much of it as her flat wasn't too far from the station. Thankfully, the rain seemed to hold out until she was close, and by the time she slipped into the station, a light drizzle had begun. By the time Kanako made her way on to the platform, squeezing past the usual morning crowd, the rain had started getting heavier. At least she had been able to make her way to the women only train carriage. It had been chaos when the heavens had opened up, as if dumping rain on to the ground.
Kanako takes her usual spot on the train, close to the doors. She likes watching the world go by, likes watching the rest of Tokyo get on with their day. Today, the rain makes things a little harder for her to see, but there's a pleasant buzz under her skin as she looks out of the window. The train isn't too packed at the moment, but all the seats are taken, as usual. It's strange, this is that train that she takes every weekday morning, yet she doesn't seem to recognise the rest of the women today. The old lady in her faded kimono hasn't showed up, and neither has the young mother with her three children. There are fellow office workers like Kanako, but she doesn't recognise their faces. She frowns, but she doesn't think too much of it. People's schedules do change, right? Sometimes she doesn't take this particular train, especially when she's late.
As the train moves along, more and more women enter. It's not unusual for the carriage to be packed, but today seems worse than usual. Perhaps it's the rain, Kanako thinks. She nearly jumps when she feels someone's hand brush against hers, but then again, it cannot be helped. They are all far too close, and there simply isn't enough space for everyone in the train. It's inevitable that some contact happens.
Someone knocks into Kanako's back as the train jerks forward, and it's followed by a soft 'I'm sorry.' Kanako nods in reply. Things like these do happen. It hurts a little though, because whatever it was, a shoulder? An elbow? Someone's briefcase? It was hard and a little sharp. The train moves along, and Kanako continues staring out of the window, and that's when she feels it.
There's a hand on Kanako's buttocks. It's unmistakable. Someone has their hand there, palm completely pressed down. She can feel all five fingers. There's no doubt about it — it's a deliberate touch. She frowns, fidgeting, trying to make more space between the hand and her body to no avail. There isn't enough space on the train for her to move, and the hand seems insistent on following. How can it be? She's on a women only train carriage. Surely... She looks in the window, trying to make out the reflection of the person behind her. The train jerks forward as it pulls into the next stop, and the person behind her presses close. It's a woman. Her breasts press against Kanako's back, against her shoulder blades, and the hand stays on her buttocks.
'You've got a nice butt.' The voice is soft, high-pitched, and Kanako's cheeks flush.
For now, the hand stays on Kanako's skirt. Then the train starts to move again, and Kanako feels her cheeks burning as her skirt is hiked up, and the woman slips her hand underneath. Kanako's work uniform consists of a black pencil skirt, a long sleeved white button up shirt, a black vest and a scarf around her neck. The scarf is in her bag, she doesn't put it on until she gets to her station, then she goes to the toilet to get ready before heading in for work. And well, of all days, today had been the day in which she was heading for her high school class reunion in the evening. She had specially chosen a set of underwear for the occasion, hoping that she might have a chance with a particular classmate. And now? There's a soft whistle in her ear, and she knows that the woman must have seen her lacy underwear beneath her black pantyhose.
Kanako gasps when she feels the hand roaming across her buttocks. Lower, lower. Down the cleft of her buttocks and slipping in between her thighs. No, it cannot be. Not there. Her cheeks burn in mortification, feeling the woman's hand cup her through her panties, through the pantyhose. The woman's fingers press down, massaging her gently. Kanako balls her hands into fists by her side, fingernails digging into her palms. She should speak up. She should push the woman away. She should attempt to leave. But it's impossible, given how she had picked her spot on the train, where the doors wouldn't open until many stops later. There's no way she'll be able to make her way to the other door at this rate, and even if she wanted to, the woman behind her would never let her go. And besides, what would she say anyway? That another woman was touching her? That she didn't want it? How could she even say such a thing anyway, given how she can feel the wetness pooling between her legs as the woman continues with her ministrations?
To be honest, it has been a while since Kanako has experienced the touch of another. She had broken up with her boyfriend before she had joined her current workplace, and had been single for the past year. Intimately speaking, they hadn't gotten far, but Kanako had enjoyed it whenever he had touched her between her legs, although that had never lasted long. What the woman is currently doing, however, is nothing like whatever Kanako has had before. Her movements are slow, content with touching Kanako through the fabric, and Kanako squirms, horrified and ashamed to find that she wants more. This isn't enough for her, and she aches for more.
As if reading Kanako's mind, the woman's hand moves away, and Kanako bites back a gasp when she feels two hands on her breasts, cupping them from behind. Surely someone is able to see this, right? She takes a quick glance to her sides, only to find that the women beside her? They're openly leering at her. The woman on her right is slightly taller, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, dressed in a fashionable suit. Her glasses have fallen down her nose, and she's staring at Kanako's breasts, and how they seem to be bursting out of her shirt as the woman massages them. The woman on Kanako's right looks like she could be a university student. She's clad in a football jersey, with her hair in a bob cut, and she has her eyes glued firmly on Kanako's breasts too. Kanako swallows hard. How could this be? What had she gotten herself into?
Football Jersey takes Kanako's acknowledgement of her existence as the cue to help herself to Kanako's body. She reaches to unbutton Kanako's shirt, and Kanako cannot resist, given how she is boxed in by the three women. Her shirt is unbuttoned, pushed aside to reveal her breasts, and Suit Lady on her right undoes the buttons on her vest as well so that Kanako's breasts can be fully exposed. Kanako squeezes her eyes shut in shame, feeling the women's gaze on her body. The lacy bra she had chosen had been cream coloured, and it barely covers her nipples. Now that her breasts are exposed, her nipples are erect, reacting to the cool air of the train carriage.
'How lewd,' Football Jersey exclaims, reaching to pinch Kanako's left nipple through the fabric of her bra. Kanako bites back her cry, feeling Football Jersey roll her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Suit Lady follows her example, doing the same with her right nipple, and Kanako moans, soft and low.
'That's it, let your voice out,' the woman behind Kanako whispers in her ear. Her breath is hot against Kanako's skin, and her hand is on Kanako's hip. 'Let us all hear just how much you long to be touched.'
Kanako shakes her head, biting on her lower lip, determined not to make another sound. No, she's not going to give in. She's not going to give the women what they want from her, even as her thighs quiver and she wants to be touched oh so desperately between her legs. It's a strange sensation, having her nipples stimulated by the lace from her bra and by someone's fingers. They're too sensitive, far too sensitive, and when Football Jersey pinches her nipple hard, pulling at it? Kanako cries out this time, unable to take it any more.
'That's it,' the woman behind her murmurs. She hikes up Kanako's skirt again, this time, from the front. If the windows on this side of the door were a little longer, surely everyone would be able to see her expose Kanako's panties, already soaked through to her pantyhose. As it is, if anyone were to look, they can already see her breasts, with what little modesty she has left afforded to her by the hands of the two women beside her. The woman behind Kanako hums, low and appreciative as she feels just how wet Kanako is, using two fingers to rub against the place between Kanako's legs. Then she lifts her fingers up to Kanako's lips, forcing them into Kanako's mouth. 'Look at yourself. You're so wet and eager. Taste it,' she whispers, voice urgent. 'You want this, don't you?'
Kanako chokes back a sob. She wants to say no, but her body has betrayed her. Her body wants this, her body loves the way the women are touching her. They haven't even touched her directly between her legs, and here she is, already dripping wet. No, they haven't even touched her nipples directly, nor have their fingers slipped underneath her bra to touch her breasts, and she's already a whimpering mess, desperate for more.
The woman laughs, fingers leaving Kanako's mouth, tracing down her jaw, her neck, down her body, and back underneath her skirt again. Kanako gasps when the woman rips a hole in her pantyhose, cupping her through her panties. 'You're so wet,' she murmurs.
So okay, Kanako is wet. She's so aroused to the point that she might not be beneath begging to be touched. She hasn't been touched like this before, where the focus is entirely on her pleasure. The women who are having their way with her body are not asking anything of her, except that she enjoy the process. The woman behind her pushes her panties aside, touching her folds directly, rubbing at the wetness. Kanako knows what she is feeling, that despite the neatly trimmed bush of hair, the lips of her pussy are hairless, for she had shaved the night before. What had she been anticipating? When the woman dips a finger into the folds of Kanako's pussy, seeking out her clit, Kanako feels her knees buckle beneath her.
'Spread your legs a little,' the woman orders.
Kanako does so, feeling the woman slide a leg between her thighs. She moans, feeling the woman part her folds with her fingers to touch her clit, rubbing against it. The woman's fingers are rough, she can feel sharper edges around her fingertips catch against her sensitive skin, and it hurts from time to time. Yet at the same time it feels so good, with the two women playing with her nipples at the same time, and when Suit Lady sinks her fingernails into her nipple, pinching her areola too, Kanako can barely control herself as she climaxes. The finger on her clit doesn't stop, it continues with its rubbing and Kanako wants to move, it's too much for her. She can feel her wetness dripping down her thighs now, and it's embarrassing. But despite the stimulation, she knows that no, it isn't enough. Just an orgasm from her clit and her nipples isn't enough, and she hates how her stomach clenches in anticipation just because she knows she needs more. At night, when she masturbates in her room, she fills herself up with her fingers, fucking into her as she rubs her clit with her legs spread. This isn't enough, and even though she doesn't want to be touched by strangers on a train, her body craves more. Craves even greater release.
'My turn,' Suit Lady says. She pushes the woman behind Kanako's hand away, and this time, she reaches to grope Kanako's thigh, raking her nails across to tear at the pantyhose before reaching for Kanako's clit. Her movements are more forceful, and Kanako gasps when Suit Lady pushes a finger into her entrance, using the heel of her palm to rub against her clit. The sound of Suit Lady's movements, the first finger, then the second, steadily fucking Kanako's pussy, is defeaning to Kanako's ears. It's loud and lewd, wet sounds reminding Kanako of just how much her body is enjoying this.
Not to be outdone, Football Jersey pushes Kanako's bra down, exposing her breasts entirely. She leans in, biting hard on the swell of her breast, and Kanako bucks hard against Suit Lady's hand. Football Jersey leaves a trail of bites on her skin, down to her nipple and Kanako is whimpering as she sucks a nipple into her mouth, flicking her tongue over it quickly.
There's a hand on Kanako's buttocks again. This time, Kanako's skirt is hiked up fully, and she can feel more fingers at her entrance. No, she wouldn't be able to take this. Even if she's this wet, she doesn't think that she can take more than the three fingers that Suit Lady is thrusting into her pussy. Surely the woman behind her won't—
As it turns out, the woman behind her has other plans. She dips her fingers into the wetness, moving backwards to rub it against the pucker of Kanako's asshole. She rubs, slow, insistent, presses a fingertip there, before going back to gather more wetness.
'Please,' Kanako gasps. She's mortified that the word has made it out of her mouth. She had made it a point not to say anything, not to give them the satisfaction of knowing just how all of this made her feel. And yet she finds herself begging now. What does she want? The woman behind her is about to finger her ass, and at this point, Kanako doesn't even know if she's begging her to stop, not her ass too, or begging her to just fuck her already.
The woman behind Kanako laughs, pushing her finger into Kanako's asshole. Kanako groans, feeling Suit Lady pick up the pace. She's never had anything like this before, never been filled in two holes like this, while her clit is stimulated at the same time. She feels full, like she's about to burst. She cannot take any more, it's far too much, too much.
When Kanako comes, Football Jersey kisses her. She presses her lips against Kanako's forcefully pushing her tongue into Kanako's mouth, as if intent on devouring her, eating up her cries of pleasure. Kanako can feel herself contracting around Suit Lady's fingers, her ass clenching around the fingers of the woman behind her, and they make no attempt to move.
Kanako is vaguely aware when the train pulls to a stop.
'My turn,' Football Jersey says now, breaking the kiss. 'Let me feel just how wet you are,' she says, cheeks heated, a lecherous grin on her face.
Kanako wants to say no more. She's had a second orgasm already, to have a third? In public? She doesn't think she can take any more. But Football Jersey has made her move already. The doors open on their side, and Football Jersey has her body in front of Kanako's. The crowd pushes in, and Kanako is trapped. There's no way out.
The woman behind Kanako leans in, biting lightly on Kanako's earlobe. 'Let's continue, shall we? You've been enjoying this, haven't you?' Her fingers are still inside Kanako's ass, and she pushes them further inwards.
Kanako groans, and that's when Suit Lady takes the chance to press the fingers that had just been inside her into her mouth. She tastes herself, her wetness all over. She wants to say no to the woman behind her, wants it all to end. But in her heart of hearts, she knows, that to say that she hasn't enjoyed this would be a lie, and it burns.