Specifically, her tits. The train’s movements are making her tits jiggle up and down, and I’m almost hypnotised. “Like what you see?” Elly ask..., smirking.“I- I- uh, wasn’t staring or anything,” I lied.“It’s alright if you were. I was hoping you would make the first move,” she says seductively. She takes off her jacket and lowers her top slightly, just enough for me to see the top of her bra. I look around nervously, trying to avoid her gaze, and notice something. Everyone else on the train is. I can feel my eyes start to prickle and sting but I won't cry. I refuse to cry. And I slam my hand into the wall just to distract myself, the sear of pain blinding me as some of the stitches pop open and I feel a gush. The edges of my vision are white, and the pain gets sucked in with a whoosh and it feels almost good. It's enough to calm me down, because Carly is right behind me, and I thank god I'm a faster runner than her.But it's still hard to explain the blood running down my fingers and. More

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