The man couldn’t decide.

He’d ducked into the specialty shop during his break in the photoshoot looking for a few Halloween items. The sight of jack o’ lanterns, ghoulish costumes, and ghosts made from sheets with cutout eyes had arrested his attention when he’d spotted it earlier. Unfortunately, it had also attracted half of London apparently, considering the crush of last minute shoppers that evening. He perused the dimly lit shelves searching for the perfect “something” for his young relative, but what would he like? The narrow aisles offered not much room, and he dodged and shifted as the people brushed past with a rushed “pardon” and “excuse me,” barely heard above the Creature Feature tunes playing in the background. Sometimes contact between strangers couldn’t be avoided like today, but it lasted just a second and was gone. He thought nothing more about it.

He was torn between two plastic tombstones, one saying “RIP Shawty” and the other “See You Soon,” when he noticed something different. It started as a faint brushing of fabric against fabric, then an increasing softness pressing into the middle of his back, accompanied by a whiff of floral perfume. Instead of stopping immediately, it continued, pressing more completely downwards, a ridge of buttons along his spine, past a belt in the small of his back, and along the curve of his arse. He would have sworn that he could feel every indentation and contour of her coat and body, as if he’d not been wearing two tee shirts and a bulky knit sweater. Mmm, nice, he thought for a second. Despite secretly enjoying their proximity, he’d have moved then, lest she think that he was taking advantage. He was a gentleman and clearly, the milling throng had forced her against him.

But just as he became aware of the delicious pressure of her body, a hand rose, lightly brushing his leg. Slender splayed fingers gently grasped his right hip. Again, instead of moving immediately, the fingers lingered. The hand shifted slightly, so that the thumb moved from the jutting bone to the soft area nearer his loins. At once, he felt electrified, as if his jeans and pants had melted away and the finger touched the soft sensitive skin beneath. He gasped at the sensation. A frisson of pleasure shot through him as her finger gently circled the area clockwise, once, twice, three times. Then he heard a husky “pardon” and the hand and pressure at his back disappeared.

He turned, open mouthed, as he watched her back, hair and coat floating behind her, retreating through the door and out into the street. Good grief, he thought. First it’s fans stroking his beard; now he was getting turned on by strange women frottering him in specialty shops among the plastic tombstones. What has gotten into him? What on earth would his mum say? At that thought, he chuckled. What would she say, indeed. Turning back towards the shelf, he finally noticed the teen a few feet away staring at him. She arched a brow in what apparently was part surprise, part amusement, as her eyes drifted significantly down and up again, before she engrossed herself suddenly in the fine print on a tombstone.

He looked down and covered himself quickly with the plastic prop.

Oh shit.


I totally blame Guylty after her post here. She’s out of control, I’ll tell ya.

34 thoughts on “Frotteur

  1. You guys are killing me! You just wrote that up in a flash right? Still don’t like the sweater, but the stories are great.

  2. Oh my goodness – this is delicious, fabulous. I LOVE this Judi. Of course I am extremely happy to think that The Man would take enjoyment from the frottage, instead of seeing it as sexual harrassment. You really wrote a convincing different POV here – and as usual you have finished with a punchline that really hits (the prop in his hand, I am still laughing).
    Brilliant stuff – we should do this more often *ggg*.

    • Thanks Guylty. I wasn’t intending for him to enjoy it that much but outrageous seemed the order of the day.

      I’ve got to stop reading the comments to your posts before I write. Y’all are a REALLY bad influence. ๐Ÿ˜‰

      • And you love the bad influence, I say ๐Ÿ˜‰ – But seriously, isn’t this the best thing, getting mutually inspired by something? (Maybe stimulated is the correct term *coughs*) Your post on The Man, pretending to be smugly leaning against a wall at a party, was what got my creative juices flowing. The comments are egging us on. Not a bad reaction, that…

    • BTW, I did take great pains to not make this seem like sexual harassment, as the teen might have thought until she spotted his discomfiture. Technically speaking it was sexual harassment at worst (if he’d felt that way) and wildly inappropriate behavior at best. But the emerging kinky side (the beard stroking) helped a lot. This was tricky to write. I applaud you for getting the frotteur ball rolling.

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  4. A hahaha! This was great Judiang! Thanks ๐Ÿ˜€
    Hmm..reacting like this in his forties?..this is undoubtedly science-fiction literature (with an emphasis on ‘fiction’) ๐Ÿ˜‰

    • I tried to be as convincing as I could, considering. LOL!
      But if we put our heads together on this, we could come up with reasons for his reaction: hypersensitivity? horniness? touch-starved? acquiring yet another fetish? Think of the possibilities!
      Yes, as many outrageous things I’ve done to him, this is fiction indeed. ๐Ÿ˜‰

      • Oh fiction, of course. All of it. But I do think The Man comes out of it better than the actual frotteur. And I could well imagine that even a mature man may react strongly to something so entirely unexpected. ๐Ÿ˜€

  5. Love it Judiang. And Loved Guylty’s, too. Now I’m think this should be a a semi regular exercise- using Ooof or not. Use a photo as a prompt and throw it out there. Different blogger or commenter chooses photo each time.
    You ladies are great. Like them both a real lot. Judiang- hahahhah – the Tombstone – haha,

    • (Kind of hijacking Judiang’s stream here – apologies Judi – I will be quiet again after this). Just to say that I like that idea very much, Perry.

    • Perry, you may be onto something here. Maybe we should all talk amongst ourselves and see what we can organize? It would be an excellent way to get me writing more regularly, for one thing. Guylty?

      • Oh Judi – sorry, didn’t see your reply. I am at your service, any time. In fact I would love a challenge like that. It would be fun and also great exercise! I’m game.

    • I love the idea of the photo prompt for ficlets!! I’ve actually been doing that on my other, smutty blog. (cough) I was just thinking of zooming over there to do a frottage post. For Reasons.

  6. *LOL* This made my day. Thank you so much for putting a smile on my face. I suspect it’ll stay there for a while. ๐Ÿ™‚

  7. Quite a saucy counterdraft, Judy! Mmmhhh.. very delicous and much to my liking. Yet what’s a bit irritating is, that said man thinks of his mother at this very moment! Still feeling guilty about sultry thoughts and carnal pleasures at the now advanced age of 42? Tsk, tsk, tsk! Ok, ok (he was 41 when the pic was shot) this unexpected touch has taken him by utter surprise…. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    • Thanks Linda. I imagine The Man to be a bit like a deer caught in the headlights of life. Giving him the worldliness and cynicism befitting a 42 year old man in the biz half his life wouldn’t be as fun. ๐Ÿ˜‰

      • You are soooo right, Judy! A certain bliss of ignorance about his attractions makes him even more worth desiring…. Though actually your imagination of the caught deer is now haunting my head!!

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  9. Loved this, especially the visual of RA hiding his response behind a Styrofoam tombstone. Priceless.

    • Thanks Kathy. I almost deleted the last few lines, thinking it might be going over the top. It’s a good thing readers like you are so naughtily encouraging! ๐Ÿ˜€

  10. Poor The Man. The frustration he puts up with for our amusement. I almost feel for him…almost.

  11. You are so baaaad, you’re good! ha!

    And if this is what the man does with Halloween props, I wonder what will happen at Christmas? I guess if we see him walking away from us covered in tinsel down his back, we’ll know. Ha!

  12. This is MARVELOUS. I love it!! ๐Ÿ˜€ Thank you for writing it!! Tremendous. And yes… I can only imagine what he could do with a Christmas stocking and flaming pudding. ๐Ÿ˜€

  13. Pingback: Happy Halloween [*ooof*let] | Guylty Pleasure

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