On the crowded train you reached, with ancient accuracy, two thin-boned fingers and found my jeaned member. With what Oriental precision you stroked it! What arcane wisdom was transferred by your delicate Eastern method! How rigid I grew! How inscrutible was your gaze! How we were pressed together! The crowd about us unknowing. My understanding of the moment so beneath your own that I too was, in comparison, unknowing. Like the flickering of the Dragon's tongue your fingers did press and stroke and then, as I achieved release, you were gone and I was left facing East and soundlessly crying, "Whither goest thou Old Chinese Woman who stroked my shaft on the F Train between 34th St. and Rock Center?! Whither goest thou!?"