Being Fingered on the London Tube – Summer 1994

In the summer of 1994 I was in London on my OE. I’d just moved out of my relatives’ place in Romford into a Kiwi flat in Hampstead Gardens. It wasn’t as flash as it sounds — we were in run-down flats above some local shops.

I got a temp job as receptionist at the Hurlingham Club in Fulham. I was 22. They expected me to wear a dress or a blouse and skirt, and I quickly worked out that my manager liked seeing my cleavage and legs, so short skirts, short dresses and plunging necklines worked best. I was receptionist for the catering department, dealing mainly with suppliers and tradies rather than guests, so everyone was happy to look at my tits and, if they could, look down my top.

My commute was from East Finchley station on the Northern Line to Putney Bridge on the District Line. In the mornings I’d walk to East Finchley, take the Northern Line to Euston, change to the Victoria Line to Victoria, then change again to the District Line to Putney Bridge and walk to the club. I usually travelled just before 8 a.m. to start at 9, and reversed the journey at 5 p.m. Most days the carriages were packed — standing room only, everyone crushed up against each other.

Standing there in a short skirt and low-cut blouse with men pressed against me, it never took long before I felt hands on my arse and my tits. It always went the same way. First a quick brush to see what response they got (I was still pretty naïve at the start, but already a slut). Then a longer touch. If there was no reaction they’d leave the hand there, then start properly feeling me. I never stopped them, so the next step was a hand up my skirt or up my blouse.

When it was up my skirt I’d feel their fingers between my legs. I’d open my legs “for balance” and they’d pull my knickers aside and slip inside me, fingering away. Some found my clit; others fingered my arse. They’d keep going until I got off or they got off. Then the next tube would be the same. Sometimes the same guy would follow me and do it again.

If they went up my blouse it was just groping and feeling my tits.

A few times there’d be a guy in front and a guy behind me at the same time. One would go for my cunt while the other went for my arse — one in each. That was always really hard to keep a straight face through.

A few times guys followed me home. There’s a walkway behind East Finchley station; they’d confront me in a hidden spot and we’d go into the trees and fuck.

It was always quite funny to me that I could usually spot the type of guy who was going to finger me.

At one point I started taking my knickers off when I left work, just to make it easier for them.