At first, I thought being groped was (disgusting), but when it actually happened, I sometimes thought (it might feel good).
So, as long as no one around noticed, it didn't hurt, and my clothes didn't get dirty, I would allow it to a considerable extent.
Depending on my condition that day, the technique of the groper, and whether they hit my points, the range of what I could tolerate varied, but if they were persistent yet gentle, it was mostly OK.
On days when I encountered such a groper, I would feel like having sex all day long afterward.
The best experience I've had so far was...
It must have been that old man.
He was the first one to touch me directly.
In a crowded corner of the train where the door wouldn't open for 17 minutes, I was being pushed (probably by that old man), and I couldn't move. But thanks to a slight sway of the train, I felt a bit of space open up, and at that moment, I felt the zipper of my skirt being pulled down.
(What!?) I thought, and then a hand slipped in, bypassing my stockings and panties to touch my bare butt.
Usually, when someone puts their hand under a skirt, they gradually lift the hem, so I was super surprised!
Once a hand gets in like that, it's impossible to avoid it; it becomes like a part of my clothes.
(I've been caught) I thought.
After a few gentle strokes along my crack, the hand spread my cheeks and traced my back hole with a middle finger.
But the finger movements were never rough; they were quite delicate, like small tremors.
I felt myself getting wet, and it was so embarrassing.
It was the first time a groper had touched my bare butt, and the first time I felt so much that my panties got wet.
When the old man noticed I was wet, he pushed his hand deeper, scooped up the love juice on my panties, and returned to my back hole.
He smeared it on the hole and then inserted his middle finger a bit forcefully.
Since I was standing, my muscles were tight, so the finger didn't go in very far.
If he had forced it, it might have gone in more, but a skilled groper stops here.
While trembling the inserted finger, he continued to smear the love juice around with his other fingers.
By this time, I had completely lost my fear and disgust towards the groper and was filled with anticipation (What will he do next?).
The old man pulled his finger out of my back hole and finally traced my front hole.
It was completely slippery, so he could touch and insert as much as he wanted, stirring it up quite roughly.
But he touched my clitoris gently.
He pressed and lightly pinched it while trembling his finger.
Actually, at this time, my left nipple was also being attacked.
He slipped his hand under my jacket, lifted my tank top, unhooked my front clasp, and after massaging my right breast, he traced my areola with his finger, attacking my nipple with the same delicate touch as below.
With the attacks from above and below, I was losing my reason and completely surrendered my body to the old man.
In just 17 minutes, I came twice.
When we arrived at the station, I wondered if he would invite me somewhere.
I wanted to be pounded hard and come even more.
But when we arrived at the station, the old man quietly got off.
I felt relieved but also a bit disappointed.
I got off the train and headed straight to the restroom.
It was hard to walk because I was so wet.
When I entered a stall and pulled down my panties, the love juice dripped down.
I wiped the soaked love juice with tissue, wiped the stain on my panties with tissue, and since I didn't have a spare pair, I put them back on.
Since my first direct touch experience was like this, I still ride the train with a bit of expectation.
But unfortunately, since the train schedule changed, I haven't encountered that old man again.
