Young married women who don't wear underwear, add me: 506593984

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

When I was in high school, I commuted to school by bus

. Back then, the bus line near my home didn't have a special student bus, so I took the regular bus. Since it was a regular bus, it was also used by ordinary working people. The seats on my bus line were like those on a train, row upon row with an aisle in the middle. It was usually incredibly crowded during the morning rush hour. My school was good, and I was pretty decent-looking—at least not too unpleasant! So these external factors were my best cover.

You readers might think I'm a lecherous pervert, but you'd be wrong! I'm not really interested in girls my own age; usually, I'm the one being pursued by them! Instead, I'm quite attracted to mature working women.

Among the many women at the bus stop, I admired one older working woman. She was elegant and well-dressed. She was always driven to the bus stop by someone on a motorcycle. Judging from the way she was hugging that person, I figured it was either her boyfriend or her husband. Initially, I didn't have any particular intentions or actions towards her; I just enjoyed seeing her, and consequently, I paid attention to her demeanor and clothing.

One day, when boarding the bus, everyone usually squeezed together without queuing, and I unfortunately ended up in front of her. Because of the crowd, everyone pushed forward, and naturally, she was forced to push against me as well. I don't know what happened, but suddenly all my senses focused on my back. She was holding a purse in one hand, her fingers pressing against my buttocks, and her other hand, holding a ticket, was pressing against my shoulder. I guessed she was protecting her chest.

The sudden contact of a woman's hand against my buttocks, and the friction from the pushing and shoving, aroused my desire. I could have easily dodged her, but I didn't want to miss the opportunity. On a whim, I turned around abruptly and glared at her, then my gaze swept over her hand holding the purse… By then, she had realized what was happening, and clearly, she felt embarrassed.

Once on the bus, I found an opportunity to block her path and stand face-to-face. I deliberately acted very unhappy and stared at her brazenly, while she shyly and awkwardly lowered her head. As more and more people boarded, the distance between us increased until we were practically touching. I think it was psychological, right?

Her initial protective posture disappeared. She let go of her handbag, only holding the straps on her shoulder, while my hand, holding my backpack, pressed against her lower abdomen. With the swaying of the bus, the back of my hand rubbed against her lower abdomen.

I felt very guilty, but also very comfortable! Her only reaction was to turn her blushing face away. People say, "Take an inch, and you'll take a mile!" I even stretched out my fingers and rubbed directly against the hollow of her lower abdomen. I was actually more nervous than excited! To be honest, I didn't feel anything, and it wasn't as outrageous as described in typical adult books! But I'm certain of one thing: she was genuinely shy, not faking it!

Since I got off the bus before her, before I got off, taking advantage of the movement of the crowd, I secretly spread my palm behind my backpack and stroked her buttocks piece by piece. I could feel the line formed by the edge of her underwear and her buttocks, and the two bumpy buttocks. Wow! So good!! I was intoxicated by this feeling all day!

The next day when I saw her again, we were both a little embarrassed, and I didn't want to look at her. When the bus came, I bravely squeezed on and managed to get a seat. She was slower, and by the time she got on, there were no seats left! She was standing only one row away from my seat, so I could see her. I noticed that her gaze was also on me, thankfully without any malice! So I started to focus my gentle and not too annoying gaze on her. By the end of the journey, she was flustered and very uncomfortable looking at me! In the

following days, I would search for her gaze on the bus in the same way, and I think she seemed to have gotten used to me looking at her like that. One day, I deliberately wanted to play a trick on her. When I knew she was standing nearby, I didn't look at her once until I was about to get off the bus. Then I caught a glimpse of her looking at me with a questioning gaze. Ha! She still cared quite a bit!

Then one evening after school, I was surprised to see her on the bus when I got on. There weren't many people on the bus, and there were still empty seats, but I still walked over and stood next to her. The window seat next to her was empty. She saw me standing there for a while, then she moved to the window seat. I still didn't move. She probably felt a bit embarrassed. She tilted her head and looked at me, then patted the chair, gesturing for me to sit down. I sat down without hesitation.

The seat wasn't big, so we were close together. Actually, I did it on purpose. I put my backpack on my lap, and my hand casually moved between her thighs and mine. I slowly moved my palm, caressing her thighs, which were covered in stockings, causing her to sometimes close her legs and sometimes cross them. Finally, she probably couldn't take it anymore and grabbed my hand. I had no choice but to obediently let go. I saw her glaring at me, her face flushed and her neck thick with breath, but her eyes held a hint of ambiguity.

Then I reached my hand from behind her back and started fiddling with her bra straps. She twisted and turned, trying to avoid me. I then tried to unhook the back of her bra, which terrified her! She whispered, "Don't go too far!"

I said guiltily, "I didn't!"

At the same time, I crossed my arms over my chest and, under the cover of my arms, touched the cups of her bra with my fingers. Even through the bra, I could still feel the softness of her breasts.

Although I had touched my older sister's breasts before, this was the first time for someone else. It felt both novel and nerve-wracking, and of course, I longed to have my hands on her breasts. I thought for a moment, then pretended to open the window. I stood up slightly to do so, and as I opened the window with one hand, my other hand slipped in and grabbed one of her breasts. I felt incredibly good! She nervously adjusted her shirt, trying to avoid being seen. I understood her anxiety; anyway, I had achieved my goal, and a smug smile crept onto my lips.

She gasped, "You're so bold! How could you do this..."

I maintained my smug smile and didn't reply, since we were almost at our stop anyway. Just as I was about to get off the bus, I whispered in her ear, "I want your underwear!"

She was startled and said, "Say that again! "

I said, "Or you won't wear underwear tomorrow! "

She got angry, "You still said that!!" Then she turned her face to the window and ignored me.

She didn't get off the bus; I don't know why. Anyway, I went home with a victorious smile.

The next morning, while waiting for the bus, she ignored me with a tense expression, and she still ignored me after getting on the bus. I carefully examined her skirt, trying to find traces of her underwear. Ah! What a letdown, she was wearing underwear! But when I was about to get off the bus, she handed me a 7-Eleven plastic bag. I was so nervous!

In a quiet spot on campus, I took it out and looked at it. It was a pair of pinkish-purple briefs! ? Very conservative, washed, so it smelled nice. There was also a note that read: "Damn it! Pervert!"

Throughout the day, I ran to the toilet almost every break. What did I do? You can imagine!

After school, I tried to get to my bus stop before her and waited for her. After a long wait, she finally got off the bus. She looked a little surprised when she saw me, then gave me a sly and playful smile and said, "Can your mom wear this?" I said, "Sister, stop messing around!" Then we slowly started chatting haphazardly.

Then she said she needed to transfer to another bus to go home, and I playfully teased her, saying, "I want the one you're wearing!" She said, "Stop it! We're outside, how can I?" I pointed to the gas station across the street, and she looked at it for a while, then said, "Wait a minute!" She crossed the street to the gas station's restroom.

About 7 or 8 minutes later, I watched her come back. Haha! The way she walked was so strange; even though there was no wind, she was still clutching the hem of her skirt, and her feet were still turned inwards. When she handed it to me, she said, "I didn't wash it, it's not clean!"

But I noticed she was still wearing stockings, so I asked her, "You're still wearing stockings! How did you take them off?" She said, "None of your business!" and even hit me on the head!

Then she said she was going home and told me not to follow her, or I'd never see her again. I asked her for her phone number, but she refused; however, she did write mine down.

That night, she called and we talked for a long time. She was very interested in my relationship with my older sister. She said her younger brother, who was in elementary school, would go through her underwear in the bathroom, which scared him so much that he hung his own underwear to dry in his room…

From then on, we would chat naturally every morning, seemingly like siblings, but actually, our conversations were all about adult topics. We had a serious discussion about our relationship, and we both agreed that it was a way to relieve stress (an excuse).

About a month before my university entrance exams, she said she was going to be transferred soon and wouldn't have many opportunities to see me anymore. I nervously arranged to meet her at the bus stop. After we met, we talked for a long time. I asked her to go to a hotel with me, but she refused no matter what I said, not even for a coffee or a drink. I remember begging her with red eyes, and in the end, she only agreed to give me another pair of underwear, and then we went to the gas station across the street together.

I asked to go in with her, and at first she refused. Then I brought up my older sister's example, and it actually worked!

She agreed! Then we busied ourselves choosing whether to go into the men's or women's restroom. We finally chose the men's restroom because there were two stalls, and since most men use the restrooms to urinate, they rarely use the stalls, making it safer and cleaner.

Once inside, she lifted her skirt and told me to take it off myself. She was wearing pure white underwear—was she being very conservative? When I took off her underwear, I noticed she had very little pubic hair. I wanted to touch her labia, but she refused. She whispered to me that she was still a virgin and I could only look, not touch. Actually, I touched her several times during the struggle, but she couldn't accept my caresses.

After taking her panties, I held her tightly, rubbing my face against her breasts. She hugged my head tenderly and asked, "Do you and your sister do this too?" I nodded, then slipped my hand inside her t-shirt, caressing her bra. When I found the back clasp, I unhooked it when she wasn't looking!

She hadn't expected me to take off her bra, and she started to struggle! Just then, someone came in to urinate, and she didn't dare make a sound anymore. I then became even more unrestrained in rubbing her breasts.

Her breasts were similar to my older sister's, but my older sister's nipples were a lighter color. I saw her brows furrowed, looking both excited and sad. I put her nipple in my mouth, and I couldn't help but think of my older sister's nipples. I really missed them! So I cherished this opportunity even more.

I licked and sucked her nipples while caressing her genitals until her legs went weak… After I was done, I considerately helped her fasten her bra and pull up her t-shirt. She was panting and leaning against the wall, looking at me. I didn't know if she had orgasmed. Still

not satisfied, I took out my penis and asked her to hold it. She was too shy to look and just held it with her eyes closed. I took her hand and guided her to masturbate me. Because we were both very nervous, I ejaculated soon after!

After we tidied up and made sure no one else came in, we "escaped" the gas station as quickly as possible! Then, very tacitly, we left one on each side! That night, I was in a terrible mood. I kept masturbating with those two pairs of underwear until I was completely exhausted before I fell asleep.

The next day was the last time I saw her. While waiting for the bus, she told me that she was getting married and moving to Nantou. She was going to handle the handover that day... I just listened, suppressing my sadness, without saying anything. Unexpectedly, she told me in a very soft voice, "I'm not wearing any today... and I'll do this whenever I think of you..."

(That's probably why I often asked my wife to go out without underwear later!)

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