Much is said about riding the public transport. ..and I had my share of it.
A middle aged man in his track pants stood beside my seat. The prominence in his crotch cannot be ignored, especially at the level of my sight…seated. Yes, the hesitations kicked in and the vivid picture of what could be a disastrous circumstance if in case I act upon it transpires. I cannot even process the thought of me being humiliated in full public glory. But my mind could not settle with the thought of the pursuit being bleak.
I was holding a bag of fruits and a separate one from a bakeshop I got earlier on and I was trying to balance the two off in my lap. Hmmm, a perfect cover up. I placed my hand on top of the bag of baked goodies, and cuffing its contents. Now, it’s only a few inches away from the target point. I raised my legs a bit and there it was, in perfect alignment to that obtrude package. With all things in place, the back of my right palm is now strategically adjacent to Kuya’s member. Everytime the bus moves (and you bet, MOVE it did), his’ would be pressed and at times even hardly against my virgin hands (yes, they are!). The chill that clung to my exposed skin from the air condition only amplified the warmth of that flesh that lay beneath. A sense of triumph already sets in as it went on and on through the whole stretch, though not as far, but did a flawless execution of what could only been just a scene-play on my mind. I led myself to be content of what has been accomplished, although one thing is certain that if opportunity presents itself I wouldn’t hesitate to take it further.
