Some days it hurt more than others, but every day was a struggle, and yet in spite of it I had to get up, get dressed, go to work and be a productive team member in our small marketing consultancy. I had no safety net any more, and my job and my music were all I had left. .:. I’d climbed maybe a third of the way up the stairs when a suited man charged down past me. His backpack hung from one shoulder, and as he passed me it swung out and caught my violin case, and his momentum pulled me backwards. I screamed and tried to grab hold of something to stop my fall. But there was nothing but the empty space behind me, an empty space full of metal-edged stairs. I think I hit each of them on the way down. .:. I lay, curled into a ball, cradling my left wrist and gasping for breath. Vaguely I heard voices around me. ‘Oh my god, are you alright?’ ‘Come on love, come on, you’re OK,’ ‘Did anyone get a look at him?’ ‘Cunt didn’t even stop. Wanker.’ A big black man in a London Underground uniform. Her hands were on her thighs, and she was smiling like a true victor. Then she leaned forward, planting her hands to either side of me. This put her massive breasts -- which by this point were all but spilling out of her bra -- less than a foot away from my face. (Was that the edge of a nipple I saw?)"Correct me if I'm wrong," she said, teasingly. "But didn't somebody tell me that they weren't very ticklish? Or was that some other little boy with a big erection I was talking to this morning?" She glanced down, past her tits, past my belly, to my crotch. "No. That looks like the same big erection to me." You should know," I said, without really thinking about it."Oh? And why is that?" she asked."You know why," I replied, somewhat meekly."No, why is that?" Last night. When you thought I was sleeping." Ohhh. That." If her smile faltered, I didn't see it. "I have a little secret to reveal to you about that." With this, she leaned all the way forward, pressing her tits against my chest.
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