He leads you behind the station.

This stranger, fingers rubbing along your slit, continues to lead you along the front of the station before eventually turning the corner. His other arm goes to your breast, roughly kneading it through your shirt. While a far-cry from what was happening below, the added pleasure extracts a moan from you.

“Shit... hope you feel as good as you sound.”

His words don’t reach you, your mind too caught up in a losing battle:

Why does this feel so good…? You’re a man… you shouldn’t be feeling like this…

A part of you tries to hold on to who you were not but an hour ago, but that small part of you only exists in your mind now, your current being extending no further than the stimulation below.

His fingers push past your silken undergarment, the last barrier remaining before one of his digits sinks inside you. Only a bit… but it was certainly enough for your mind to become intensely aware that it was the first thing to ever enter you. Up to the first knuckle… and then the second, eventually a little further… before withdrawing and pushing back into you.

Your legs go weak and with each step your body sinks, your lack of support dragging you down, onto his hand, his attempts to hold you up only serving to drive his finger deeper inside. You clutch him tighter, both arms now clinging to his torso and his palm lifts against your groin.

Part of you still shouted from deep inside your mind, willing you to snap out of it: Trying to remind you how this was all due to the pill… and how it very well could be responsible for the rest of your life!

The man, casually fingering and fondling you, cranes his neck to give one last look out into the lot before finally rounding the corner to go back behind the station…