02-01-2019, 05:49 PM
(This post was last modified: 20-03-2019, 05:37 PM by BIRJO. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
MUMBAI SUBURBAN TRAIN
I have read many stories regarding wife's molestation, but they always seemed like a fantasy, rather than reality.
I'm about to describe only about what I saw. Since all this had happened more than a year back, the facts may not be very accurate.
It's all about me seeing a guy feeling up my wife in a crowded train.
I've always wanted to know whether it was normal to get aroused on seeing such a thing happen, that too with your own wife.
First, let me describe you my wife.
Her name's Ayesha (name changed for privacy).
She's a 27 yr old working wife.
Typical Indian woman in terms of nature, culture and even looks.
Although she works, her wardrobe consists mostly of Salwar Kameez.
She's a bit on the conservative side, also religious and pretty orthodox in her views.
In short, not the kind of woman who likes men ogling at her, let alone be exhibitionist.
Her not being adventurous in bed, our sex life was pretty boring until recently.
The only thing that made me long for her, is her figure.
Like a typical Indian woman, she had her curves.
In fact, when this incident happened, her figure was about 36C-29-38.
With a height of 5-3, she looked smoking hot in any tight dress.
But being of a reserved nature, she only wore loose fitting dresses.
An exception would be any occasion or function, wherein she would dress appropriately, doing justice to her front and back!
Coming to the incident, it all started with Ayesha insisting that she wanted to travel with me, in a gents coach in Mumbai's famed local train.
She wanted to go to her cousin's place, and back then I had just a bike and she didn't wanted to travel in a bike as her hair would get spoiled. I had warned her against travelling in gents with me, but she wouldn't listen.
Being a Sunday, her argument was that the trains wouldn't be crowded and she didn't wanted to get bored travelling in ladies coach alone. She was pretty excited to meet her cousin, who had recently returned from a trip and wanted to bore me with stories from their childhood. I knew that Sunday crowds are unpredictable, tried telling her that, but couldn't win the argument.
As we were at the station, I reminded her that it wasn't such a great idea travelling in gents.
Going by what she was wearing, she had already got attention of a couple of guys.
She wasn't wearing anything other than usual, just a Chudidhar-Kameez.
But her curves increased her sex appeal exponentially.
Even the flimsy dupatta couldn't do much in hiding her assets.
The train arrived, and we boarded.
It was pretty much empty and I got relaxed.
We both got a seat, and to my relief, she got a window seat, so no issue of her sitting next to a guy.
As soon as we sat, she started with her stories and gossip.
Even I got engrossed in her talks so much that I failed to notice that fewer people were getting down and more getting in the train with each passing station.
I got alert when at Kurla station there came the familiar noise of people pushing inside and the space between the seats getting filled up with standees.
That's when I turned to my wife and gave the the look of 'I had told you...'
But she didn't seemed that worried.
Of course, she had her husband to escort her out to safety!
I wanted to get up and proceed towards the corridor, the earlier, the better.
But she told me to wait, "we've only crossed Kurla, Dadar is a long way…."
After trying for 10 minutes I finally convinced her to get up.
Even as she was sitting I could sense eyes on her.
After she got up, more eyes went on her as she tried making way to go ahead.
The more guys heard her voice, the more she was ogled.
Getting her past the seats safely was a task in itself (by safely I mean without body contact with men).
I was extra careful, but it was in vain, as the first step she too to move forward, she had to rub her shoulder with a guy standing and legs with one sitting.
As she moved forward, twisting and turning to go ahead, I could see men eyeing her body as her curves were looking more prominent. I didn't like men eyeing her that way, even though it was not anything new.
I still remember the time when she had worn a saree for the first time at her friend's wedding. She was looking beautiful. I couldn't keep my eyes off her back and waist. Had passionate sex with her that night.
Coming back to the incident, after struggling a bit, she was finally out from between the seat to the aisle.
But as I started moving ahead, I found out that guys were not that cooperative with me.
Had to struggle a lot. By this time, my wife had tied her dupatta tightly across and had readied herself to go ahead.
I signaled her to move ahead as I was about to reach her place.
As luck would have it, it took more time for me to reach there and just as I was going towards her, an old uncle, probably sitting on the 4th seat got up and came between me and her.
She had reached near the corridor, when she turned and saw that I was not exactly behind her.
Since coming back was not an option, as the train was nearing Matunga, I signalled her to move ahead.
I saw her struggling for a while, pushing men and requesting them to give way.
Then in a few minutes Matunga arrived.
As people rushed to get down, I saw her turn towards the gate, I was relieved that she got to move ahead, just then the station arrived.
As people got down at Matunga, some space was created, but as I moved forward, to my surprise a lot more started boarding and I couldn't go any further.
I started searching for my wife.
I had thought that she may be near the door by now, but to my surprise, she was just away from me with a guy in between, but diagonally across.
I could see her right side and got worried about her, as she was completely stretched in order to catch the overhead handles, and was literally sandwiched by men.
The guy behind her was just a little more in height than her & could see his face buried in her hair.
Seemed odd to me. At first I didn't think much of it, as I myself was trying to go through to the corridor.
But then as I saw Ayesha turn her head around, as if looking for me, the look on her face gave an idea about what was happening. She had a look of desperation and anger both. I wondered what had made her angry, I had expected that she would look worried. But then she tried to look back, as if trying to see who was behind her.
Then my attention went towards the guy behind her, maybe he was making her angry.
I pushed myself forward to reach her, succeeded somewhat, but couldn't reach her.
The train by then was slowing down, perhaps stopping at the outer signal of Dadar.
I checked again, this time I could see more clearly, that the guy was stuck to her back.
I understood the meaning of this.
During my college days, when I used to travel by train, standing that close behind a woman was pleasure, because as the train moved her butt would eventually come and hit your crotch.
But this guy wasn't waiting for the opportunity, he had stuck himself behind her closely, given his height, his crotch must be right where my wife's buttocks would be, and moreover he was so close to her that perhaps she must have felt him too.
As the train was standing still, he didn't make any move, but as soon as the train started again, I could clearly see him smelling her hair.
She must have felt his breath on the back of her head. I was a angry at that guy, but not as much as I'd expected myself to be.
In a couple of minutes, the train entered Dadar station and was slowing down.
I knew that this is the time he would try to make most of.
As people started shouting and pushing, I saw just a glimpse of a hand trying to reach her waist, but couldn't see further as people had crowded too much to get down and were pushing each other.
As I got down, I expected to see Ayesha already waiting, but I couldn't find her, then as I turned, I saw her pushing the men near the door and coming out.
I pulled her out.
She was flushed, angry, and shouting.
She said something about a guy standing at the side of the corridor suddenly trying to get down first, due to which she was pushed to the side.
5 minutes later, she was still cursing and was very angry & vowed never to travel in gents coach again.
To this day, she never travelled again in gents coach in a local train.
As she was so angry that day, I couldn't ask her about what I saw, but I feel that there must be more than what I could see.
After a few days when I was giving her clothes for ironing, I saw that the slit in the kameez she was wearing was torn from the left side.
She had not worn that dress elsewhere, as far as I remembered.
I guess it will be a mystery as to what had happened back then, as I'm sure my wife will not speak of it anymore.
But after this incident, my outlook changed altogether. Instead of getting angry by thinking about that, I sometimes long to see it again. It has developed into a secret fantasy, of seeing guys getting all worked up on seeing her in normal clothes, or perhaps imagining of such an incident happening again, with me watching closely as she is felt up...
I have read many stories regarding wife's molestation, but they always seemed like a fantasy, rather than reality.
I'm about to describe only about what I saw. Since all this had happened more than a year back, the facts may not be very accurate.
It's all about me seeing a guy feeling up my wife in a crowded train.
I've always wanted to know whether it was normal to get aroused on seeing such a thing happen, that too with your own wife.
First, let me describe you my wife.
Her name's Ayesha (name changed for privacy).
She's a 27 yr old working wife.
Typical Indian woman in terms of nature, culture and even looks.
Although she works, her wardrobe consists mostly of Salwar Kameez.
She's a bit on the conservative side, also religious and pretty orthodox in her views.
In short, not the kind of woman who likes men ogling at her, let alone be exhibitionist.
Her not being adventurous in bed, our sex life was pretty boring until recently.
The only thing that made me long for her, is her figure.
Like a typical Indian woman, she had her curves.
In fact, when this incident happened, her figure was about 36C-29-38.
With a height of 5-3, she looked smoking hot in any tight dress.
But being of a reserved nature, she only wore loose fitting dresses.
An exception would be any occasion or function, wherein she would dress appropriately, doing justice to her front and back!
Coming to the incident, it all started with Ayesha insisting that she wanted to travel with me, in a gents coach in Mumbai's famed local train.
She wanted to go to her cousin's place, and back then I had just a bike and she didn't wanted to travel in a bike as her hair would get spoiled. I had warned her against travelling in gents with me, but she wouldn't listen.
Being a Sunday, her argument was that the trains wouldn't be crowded and she didn't wanted to get bored travelling in ladies coach alone. She was pretty excited to meet her cousin, who had recently returned from a trip and wanted to bore me with stories from their childhood. I knew that Sunday crowds are unpredictable, tried telling her that, but couldn't win the argument.
As we were at the station, I reminded her that it wasn't such a great idea travelling in gents.
Going by what she was wearing, she had already got attention of a couple of guys.
She wasn't wearing anything other than usual, just a Chudidhar-Kameez.
But her curves increased her sex appeal exponentially.
Even the flimsy dupatta couldn't do much in hiding her assets.
The train arrived, and we boarded.
It was pretty much empty and I got relaxed.
We both got a seat, and to my relief, she got a window seat, so no issue of her sitting next to a guy.
As soon as we sat, she started with her stories and gossip.
Even I got engrossed in her talks so much that I failed to notice that fewer people were getting down and more getting in the train with each passing station.
I got alert when at Kurla station there came the familiar noise of people pushing inside and the space between the seats getting filled up with standees.
That's when I turned to my wife and gave the the look of 'I had told you...'
But she didn't seemed that worried.
Of course, she had her husband to escort her out to safety!
I wanted to get up and proceed towards the corridor, the earlier, the better.
But she told me to wait, "we've only crossed Kurla, Dadar is a long way…."
After trying for 10 minutes I finally convinced her to get up.
Even as she was sitting I could sense eyes on her.
After she got up, more eyes went on her as she tried making way to go ahead.
The more guys heard her voice, the more she was ogled.
Getting her past the seats safely was a task in itself (by safely I mean without body contact with men).
I was extra careful, but it was in vain, as the first step she too to move forward, she had to rub her shoulder with a guy standing and legs with one sitting.
As she moved forward, twisting and turning to go ahead, I could see men eyeing her body as her curves were looking more prominent. I didn't like men eyeing her that way, even though it was not anything new.
I still remember the time when she had worn a saree for the first time at her friend's wedding. She was looking beautiful. I couldn't keep my eyes off her back and waist. Had passionate sex with her that night.
Coming back to the incident, after struggling a bit, she was finally out from between the seat to the aisle.
But as I started moving ahead, I found out that guys were not that cooperative with me.
Had to struggle a lot. By this time, my wife had tied her dupatta tightly across and had readied herself to go ahead.
I signaled her to move ahead as I was about to reach her place.
As luck would have it, it took more time for me to reach there and just as I was going towards her, an old uncle, probably sitting on the 4th seat got up and came between me and her.
She had reached near the corridor, when she turned and saw that I was not exactly behind her.
Since coming back was not an option, as the train was nearing Matunga, I signalled her to move ahead.
I saw her struggling for a while, pushing men and requesting them to give way.
Then in a few minutes Matunga arrived.
As people rushed to get down, I saw her turn towards the gate, I was relieved that she got to move ahead, just then the station arrived.
As people got down at Matunga, some space was created, but as I moved forward, to my surprise a lot more started boarding and I couldn't go any further.
I started searching for my wife.
I had thought that she may be near the door by now, but to my surprise, she was just away from me with a guy in between, but diagonally across.
I could see her right side and got worried about her, as she was completely stretched in order to catch the overhead handles, and was literally sandwiched by men.
The guy behind her was just a little more in height than her & could see his face buried in her hair.
Seemed odd to me. At first I didn't think much of it, as I myself was trying to go through to the corridor.
But then as I saw Ayesha turn her head around, as if looking for me, the look on her face gave an idea about what was happening. She had a look of desperation and anger both. I wondered what had made her angry, I had expected that she would look worried. But then she tried to look back, as if trying to see who was behind her.
Then my attention went towards the guy behind her, maybe he was making her angry.
I pushed myself forward to reach her, succeeded somewhat, but couldn't reach her.
The train by then was slowing down, perhaps stopping at the outer signal of Dadar.
I checked again, this time I could see more clearly, that the guy was stuck to her back.
I understood the meaning of this.
During my college days, when I used to travel by train, standing that close behind a woman was pleasure, because as the train moved her butt would eventually come and hit your crotch.
But this guy wasn't waiting for the opportunity, he had stuck himself behind her closely, given his height, his crotch must be right where my wife's buttocks would be, and moreover he was so close to her that perhaps she must have felt him too.
As the train was standing still, he didn't make any move, but as soon as the train started again, I could clearly see him smelling her hair.
She must have felt his breath on the back of her head. I was a angry at that guy, but not as much as I'd expected myself to be.
In a couple of minutes, the train entered Dadar station and was slowing down.
I knew that this is the time he would try to make most of.
As people started shouting and pushing, I saw just a glimpse of a hand trying to reach her waist, but couldn't see further as people had crowded too much to get down and were pushing each other.
As I got down, I expected to see Ayesha already waiting, but I couldn't find her, then as I turned, I saw her pushing the men near the door and coming out.
I pulled her out.
She was flushed, angry, and shouting.
She said something about a guy standing at the side of the corridor suddenly trying to get down first, due to which she was pushed to the side.
5 minutes later, she was still cursing and was very angry & vowed never to travel in gents coach again.
To this day, she never travelled again in gents coach in a local train.
As she was so angry that day, I couldn't ask her about what I saw, but I feel that there must be more than what I could see.
After a few days when I was giving her clothes for ironing, I saw that the slit in the kameez she was wearing was torn from the left side.
She had not worn that dress elsewhere, as far as I remembered.
I guess it will be a mystery as to what had happened back then, as I'm sure my wife will not speak of it anymore.
But after this incident, my outlook changed altogether. Instead of getting angry by thinking about that, I sometimes long to see it again. It has developed into a secret fantasy, of seeing guys getting all worked up on seeing her in normal clothes, or perhaps imagining of such an incident happening again, with me watching closely as she is felt up...
Hard when challenged
Soft when relaxed!
Soft when relaxed!
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