An office lady I happened to notice at the station. She seemed flustered, yet carried herself with a calm demeanor. I followed behind her and boarded the same train. She sat quietly, seemingly unaware of anything.
I carefully observed her back, slowly closing the distance between us. When I placed my hand on her ass, she didn't react at all, as if deliberately ignoring me. But when I gradually moved my hand toward her panties, she began trembling like a small animal.
Her reaction only deepened my fascination. As I started touching her crotch, a strained expression appeared on her face—like she was trying to suppress herself, as if losing control.
Captivated by her body's responses, I pulled off her underwear and touched her directly. She was soaked, clearly unable to hold back any longer. I focused entirely on her state, directing all my attention to her pussy.
That's when I noticed another molester was fiddling with her nipples. She reacted to his touch as well, growing even more aroused.
Still, she tried to endure until the very end. When she got off the train, she hurried away as if fleeing. She might even report us later.
Yet this is part of a charitable act—we can't stop. We simply respond to her reactions, stimulating her and drawing out her true feelings.