Pride on the bus

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The stranger thrust hard from behind, a sharp pain shooting through my groin. My mouth was covered, so I could only make muffled sounds, which sounded incredibly lewd. My chest pressed against the metal railing, my bra pulled down to my waist, the cold sensation stimulating my nipples. I felt anger, but even more so, helplessness. The sensation in my groin became clearer; he stopped, remaining fully inserted. His large, thick penis was tightly wrapped around my vagina, its shape crystal clear. The contrast between the heat of my groin and the coldness of my upper body was stark. The stranger's rapid breaths sprayed onto my bare shoulders, filling me with an indescribable disgust, yet satisfying my body's need for warmth. The most shameful feeling was the slippery, mixed fluid clinging between my vagina and his penis—the secretions of that ugly thing mixed with my own, and even blood! I couldn't see it, but I knew the feeling of a wound soaking in salt water. Especially in my tender, unprotected genitals, the feeling was unbearable. It was definitely torn! A gaping wound! It made the word "mating" crystal clear. I never imagined this stranger would go to such lengths! He actually…! At first, he was just like other perverts on the bus, just groping me inappropriately through my skirt and clothes. I was used to enduring it, pretending I didn't know anything. I'm not good at dealing with strangers, especially after someone once told me on the bus, "After you've made your mistake, just bear with it, you haven't lost anything!" Those foolish, sexually frustrated men acted as if such touching was a huge advantage. I didn't care! Let them touch me! This man was clearly bolder than most of his kind; among the perverts I've encountered, only a few would lift my skirt and directly touch my thighs. I should have realized it then and stopped him immediately. By the time I made up my mind, it was too late. The man's hands were rough and calloused. When he touched my thigh and covered my mouth, it felt like a slightly stinging sensation, like sandpaper. Then, he actually used his rough fingertips to tease my tender labia, right under the edge of my underwear. It was already a little sticky there; I knew it myself. I thought it was my own secret, but this stranger had roughly torn away that veil, exposing it to the light of day. When a second person knows, the secret is no longer a secret. I was overwhelmed with shame, my mind went blank. He was so bold! So many times I had endured the harassment of perverts, I had become accustomed to it ending with their self-satisfaction. They wouldn't know how I felt; they thought I was oblivious. I had become used to my body's natural reactions, and I was no longer ashamed of it, but I didn't know what the man who knew I had a physical reaction would think. He must know I wasn't oblivious, but just enduring it. Humph! Let him think what he wants! I only disdain to pay attention to this. I don't care about this level. If it goes any further, I will definitely... Now, the man has lifted my legs with both hands, forcefully opening them to the sides, but without applying any lifting force. My body's center of gravity is entirely on the metal rod in front of me—and the point where my lower body and his are joined. This action of spreading my thighs is too lewd, but my body also has a kind of decadent pleasure, and then that pleasure gradually gathers on that point—the hot penis, the lewd fluid, and my carefully protected, sacred, baby-like tender... lower body. The vagina, which has regained sensation, is trying to expel the invading foreign object, so it involuntarily squeezes in waves. But no matter what, it cannot squeeze the foreign object out, instead causing the man to make a "hoohoo" sound in my ear, and that thing seems to be growing bigger and bigger, expanding the vagina little by little. Then the compressed lower body secretes aggrieved tears, and the union becomes more and more lubricated. I felt like it had gone all the way in, yet it seemed to want to go even deeper. My lower body swelled and felt increasingly uncomfortable, and then I felt that thing touching my internal organs, a feeling similar to pressure on my throat. Could it be… my uterus? I felt like I was about to cry—I hadn't cried since my tenth birthday. Why should I cry? Don't cry! You only cry when you've done something wrong, and how could I have done anything wrong? It must be that some conservative ideas are still lurking deep inside me! Some subtle things that I haven't yet mentally refuted enough—a foolish concept of chastity. Sexual intercourse is a matter for two people, and both parties should be equal when doing it. Yes, that's it! I've never deliberately been conservative about virginity, or rather, I don't even acknowledge its existence. So even though it was taken away so roughly, and the blood of my virginity dripped onto the dirty floor of the bus, I… no, there is no such thing as a virgin or virgin blood, and it doesn't matter whether it was taken away or not. What I'm doing now is merely a part of my body coming into contact with a part of a strange man's body; it's essentially like shaking hands with a stranger, nothing to be alarmed about. These ignorant and backward ideas must be eradicated! But my throat tightened, and tears involuntarily streamed down my face. Why is this happening? These backward ideas are truly deeply ingrained! No! I must start today, slowly correcting these incorrect thoughts—even though changing the subconscious is difficult. The hand that slipped onto the man's hand covering my mouth instead aroused a tremor of excitement in his body. His penis throbbed suppressedly inside me; I almost thought he was about to ejaculate. But for some reason, he held back. Why did he hold back? Just finish already! He began to thrust his hips, gripping my thighs tightly to maintain my balance, and that wicked filth slowly throbbed inside me. I know how men masturbate. And his initial movements were somewhat like using my body to manipulate his penis. It was all because I was so light that manipulating me was incredibly easy for him. The lubrication was ample, and my narrow lower body resisted in vain, unable to offer any effective resistance. His swollen glans rubbed against my vaginal walls, causing a slight pain, and when it penetrated fully, the resistance of my vagina tightly enveloped his enormous penis. But because even the slightest movement sent an overwhelming, nauseating pleasure through my body, like fennel, the slight pain seemed insignificant. Although my mouth was covered, with each thrust of his hot penis, I involuntarily let out a "mmm" sound. Stop it! This isn't a moan of pleasure; it's pain! I'm making those sounds because I can't bear the pain! My body was also writhing in rhythm with his thrusts, but it wasn't a response to pleasure. Anyone hurt, and knowing when the next wave of pain would come, would instinctively try to escape, right? But clearly, the man behind me had misunderstood! He thrust even more vigorously! Did he think he was being considerate? Did he expect me to be grateful? Our loud movements had already attracted the attention of many people nearby—some pretended not to notice, engrossed in their newspapers, but their unfocused eyes were astonishing; they hadn't even turned their heads to the window, their eyes greedily eyeing me. Their cheeks were flushed red; I knew most of them knew how things had unfolded from the beginning, from his subtle harassment to the entire sequence of events. But they hadn't had the courage to stop him at first, and now that things had progressed this far, they were even less likely to interfere. Humph! I didn't care at all about these foolish people. This…this is what many people…hide so deeply…as sex…nothing more…so…uh…uh…uh…uh… The strange pain grew stronger and stronger, tormenting me, my mind becoming increasingly muddled. The intense sensation suddenly reached its peak, like being suddenly pushed into an abyss; my body convulsed, my lower body twitching uncontrollably. That filthy thing finally couldn't hold back any longer. The man thrust hard, and a surge of heat rushed into my body. It felt like there was a void deep inside me, which I only felt when the heat entered. The heat seemed to fill that void very quickly, but the man continued to ejaculate into my body. The filled void began to expand, and then the ever-increasing fluid found its outlet—the entrance. The penis finally went limp and slid out of my body along with the hot liquid. Then I heard the sound of a zipper. When he inserted it, he simply pulled my pants down to one side, making room for his penis. However, during the thrusting, I didn't feel my underwear at all. But after it was over, the stranger...I carefully put my underwear back in place. The fabric of the underwear was blocking the thick, sticky fluid that had overflowed and flowed back from my vagina. This fluid was trapped by my underwear, filling my lower abdomen, labia, and anus. The man seemed to have timed it perfectly; the bus arrived at this stop just in time. He got off the bus with a very "carefree" air, as if he were refreshed after masturbating, as if having sex with me was as casual as taking a bus. He even turned back and gave me a lewd smile. Sturdy, ugly, dark-skinned, poor. Humph! What's there to be proud of! I didn't care at all. The air was filled with the lewd smell of semen. I gripped the iron railing in front of me, my clothes disheveled, my body weak. The sticky fluid soaked my tender labia and sparse pubic hair, and my vagina still felt slippery. My abdomen felt hot. I dared not move, because the semen began to overflow from the edge of my underwear, sliding down my thighs little by little. I prayed the bus wouldn't shake too much, so the semen wouldn't slide onto my calves, and my skirt wouldn't cover it. It's best not to let others know about this. While I don't care, that doesn't mean others are as open-minded. It's not that I'm afraid of what they'll say, it's just that there's no need to deliberately let others know about something so ordinary. Even if people say I'm hiding it because I'm afraid of gossip, I don't care. I don't care what others think of me. It's okay! There's no need to deliberately tell others; it's all over! But I still have a little worry. Will I get pregnant from all that semen inside me? Since there's no need for others to know, I can't buy birth control pills. Silly girl, there's nothing to think about! I've heard that some couples who want children try every day but still can't get pregnant. It's my first time; how could I get pregnant so easily? Although I don't know about the safe period, there's absolutely no problem! Absolutely!

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Pride on the bus

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