The new person who harassed me was, like the previous one, a university student in his early twenties. He didn't appear every day but came to make me climax about once every two or three days.
On the days he came, I felt incredibly good with his fingers and mine, but on the days he didn't, masturbating alone on the train wasn't enough, and I gradually couldn't forget about him.
About half a month later, on a day he came and made me climax again, I decided to skip school and follow him.
We talked over tea at a cafe, and he was surprisingly kind for someone who harassed me. His name was John, and we ended up spending the whole day together, visiting various places and exchanging phone numbers before parting ways. From that day on, a strange relationship continued for about a month where John would make me climax on the train in the morning, and we would hang out together in the evening.
Then came the fateful Sunday when I was invited to John's house.
When I looked around the room, I saw shelves full of videos and DVDs about harassment.
I laughed and said, "You really like harassment stuff, huh? But you should hide it when a girl comes over." He replied, "There's no point in hiding it from you, Emily, after all we've done." It was my turn to blush.
He asked, "Do you want to watch together?" and as we watched the DVD, he said, "Did you notice? You made such a naughty face too, Emily." I laughed and said, "It's your fault, John." Gradually, I started to feel aroused.
Feeling a bit wet, I rubbed my thighs together, and John put his hand on me and made me stand up.
After staring at each other for a while, we naturally kissed.
He pushed me against the wall.
He reached for my chest in that position.
When I asked, "Like this?" he said, "Isn't it like harassment?"
I called him a pervert, but I was already in the mood, being groped and touched.
When he asked, "Is it okay?" I nodded, and he turned me around and made me put my hands on the wall.
He pressed his penis against my vagina.
He said, "Tell me if it hurts," and then entered me.
Because I was so wet, I could accept his penis easily, though there was some pain.
He asked, "Are you okay?" I replied, "Yes, I'm fine," and he started moving gently.
It was my first time being rubbed slowly and having my clitoris stimulated at the same time, and it felt so good that I couldn't stand and collapsed on the spot.
He continued to thrust from behind, gradually getting stronger, and my mind went blank.
John called my name, "Emily... Emily," in a desperate voice, and his movements became faster.
Then he said, "Emily... sorry!" and thrust deeply, stopping his movements.
I felt his penis swell and pulse inside me.
Feeling John climax inside me, I also reached my climax.
My relationship with John continues to this day.
Our harassment play has escalated, and recently he has been using a remote-controlled vibrator on me.
The other day, we even had sex in the bathroom of an express train.
John is definitely a "pervert," but what does that make me for going along with it? Next, we're planning to have sex on a local train.
