Riding the bus in Roma

I don't know why I didn't say something, either while it was happening or after it happened. I've never been told what to do in that situation; it's always hypothetical. In circumstances of sexual harrassment, it become a question, "Why did she kick/scream/punch/yell?" It becomes a statement that, "Yes, she was wrong, but she could've done more." We say these things from a position of education middle-class safety in a classroom, but no one ever told me what to do on a city bus in Rome when a middle aged man pressed his crotch repeatedly against my leg. I wanted to yell, to tell my professor, but I was worried I was imagining it. Even though when the bus came to a stop the rhythmic pushing did not cease and I swear I could feel his erect penis through his pants. He got off the bus a stop early even tohugh it was an express bus to the train station and the stops were intended for entrance rather than exit. Still, I felt such an accusationw ould sound vain, that a man on the bus could become erect because of me. So I didn't say anything. I got off the bus, walked into the train station and gor on the train. I hadn't been taught what to do afterwards either. I tried not to think about it. I tried to make it sound lesser: it was just a man on the bus for ten minutes, it might all have been imagined and I was fine.