Trish Mulligan was a red haired Irish girl who spent more time studying her books than thinking about boys. In fact, up until that fateful Friday afternoon on the subway ride home from school, she had been seriously considering the possibility of a vocation and dedicating her life to the care and welfare of the poor people in Africa.

Things had not gone well in school that day for either Trish or her best friend forever Kathy Sullivan who didn't have red hair but was Irish just the same. They were in the same grade at school and would both graduate together the following month in a ceremony downtown at the Cathedral with all the pomp and circumstance of a major achievement. Kathy had already gotten into a private college upstate that catered to girls with sports ability. Kathy was one of the best female basketball players in the city and she had gotten a partial scholarship to the Girl's Academy for her basketball expertise. Trish had no real sporting talent but she already had her heart set on either the role of a novitiate or to go to the nursing school run by the same sisters that ran the convent.

Although they were best friends, Trish and Kathy seldom discussed matters related to sex because in all honesty Kathy was a lot more interested in female to female relations than what the nasty boys had to offer a young girl. Trish had absolutely no idea about Kathy's predilections because the nuns repeatedly told them that God was always listening in to what they whispered to each other when they thought no one else was listening. That put a real damper on discussing the length of cocks, etc.

Kathy was a big girl.

She had well-developed muscle groups that make her clearly physically equal to any man. At the same time, she was blessed with long naturally curly black hair, impressive boobs and a pair of perfectly shaped legs that seemed to go up forever. She didn't have much to do with the opposite sex but bore them no animosity either. In her own way, she sort of envied them the fact they all had an advantage in wooing females with their distinctive third leg whilst she had to make do with her lips and her fingers. Poor Trish had not the slightest clue that when her BFF Kathy held her in her arms and cuddled her she was thinking those thoughts the nuns all warned her would lead them down the road to perdition but she felt safe with Kathy nevertheless.

On the other hand, Trish was petite, had shocking red hair, freckles and looked much younger than her actual eighteen years. She had only recently purchased a training bra because finally her breasts had started to blossom like a pair of reluctant rosebuds in dire need of fertilizer. Her very best feminine feature was her heart-shaped bottom that seemed to attract boys like a new toy on Christmas morning. Unfortunately for Trish, her delectable bottom was also a magnet of powerful attraction for middle-aged married perverts who also rode the mass transportation system on a daily basis. She was quite different than her BFF Kathy who shrugged off the nasty probing fingers interfering with her pretty posterior as an annoyance to be tolerated because the poor deluded males had no idea how much she found their advances disgusting before they even got started properly.

In Trish's case, errant male fingers were sinful only because in almost every instance she found them most stimulating and arousing emotions deep inside her that she would be most reluctant to mention on one of her many trips to reveal the inner workings of her soul. If the truth be told, she sometimes secretly wished for male attentions to her flanks innocently available in a crowded subway train like peaches to be poked in a test of ripeness for immediate consumption. For some strange reason, she attracted the most desperate of these dissolute groping addicted males with disinterested faces and busy fingers.

There was a young male student on her left side who had tentatively rested his stiffened member on her defenseless hip like a sausage with a mind of its own. She was fully aware of it and had even allowed her bare arm to drift down to caress the hardened beauty of the thing as if she had no idea what she was touching. She hoped the young boy had no inkling that she was being so filthy in her innermost thoughts as he pressed his impulsiveness on her teenaged bare skin. At the same time, she had her other arm around Kathy's waist and kept her BFF close enough to her on the other side of the pole that her entire frontal expanse was covered by the protective presence of Kathy to dissuade random gropers from a frontal scouting party.

It was not what she needed to quite get off before she got off but it was better than a boring ride with only her dirty thoughts to keep her warm. At the next stop, a horde of travelers boarded and the passengers were pressed even closer to each other. Now, she and Kathy were pressed hard against each other much to Kathy's infinite joy and Trish's relief that at least her frontal regions were safe from depraved contact with dirty minded males. Her BFF was rubbing her long lean muscular body with glee on her budding breasts and her pubic mound like a Siamese twin yet to be separated.

It was Patrick Malloy who spotted the young girl from the doorway of the car as he boarded. He quickly moved to a position directly to her rear and reached over to grasp the pole in a normal manner of most riders who wished to keep from being thrown off balance on the bouncing train. The movement brought the front of his body into direct contact with Trish's pretty rear and his groin fitted into her heart-shaped bottom like two perfectly mated parts of a jigsaw puzzle coming together with a snap and a jiggle that shook her to her very core.