A gentle squeeze

It seems to me the world stops when I feel
Her hand upon my hip;  and, if the train
Begins to move again, I'll sense the steal
Of hand against my body; it is plain
That she will  take my breath away before
Her fingers touch my ribs and then caress
My torso - she is gentle; I'd implore
Her to do more, but covering my breast
Is all I could have asked for and the squeeze
That follows on is more than I can bear
As are the words - you naughty little tease;
Then, with deliberation in the stare
She gives me, as she'll touch beneath my top
So, unlike trains; I know she'll never stop.