What happened on the long-distance bus last weekend is absolutely true.

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

I'm Liu, a 26-year-old assistant manager at a four-star hotel. I've been working here for a little over two years. I'm 1.67 meters tall and weigh 50 kilograms. While I wouldn't call myself stunningly beautiful, I'm still pretty and charming, and what I'm most proud of is my curvaceous figure. After graduating from university, I got a job at this hotel as a front desk receptionist. Because of my diligence, warm and attentive service to guests, and my major in tourism management, I was promoted to assistant and personal secretary by the manager in less than two years.
This year, during the Mid-Autumn Festival holiday, I planned to accompany my boyfriend to visit his parents by train. However, the hotel unexpectedly arranged a holiday banquet for a large company, and the manager assigned me to handle the reception. Although reluctant, I had to tell my boyfriend to go back by train first to prepare, while I would take a long-distance bus the next day, arranging for him to pick me up at the station.
The banquet went relatively smoothly that evening; the performances and reception went without any major problems. However, the follow-up work kept me busy until after 1 a.m. before I finally dragged my tired body out of the hotel. I woke up at 9 a.m. the next day. Not wanting to be impolite at my boyfriend's house, I quickly dressed up, grabbed a quick breakfast, and rushed to the long-distance bus station. By the time I reached the ticket hall, it was already 11:30. After buying my ticket and boarding the bus, I asked the driver and learned that a section of the highway was closed for construction, requiring a detour. What used to be a four-hour journey might now take six hours. The regular seated bus had been replaced with an old-fashioned "2+1" double-decker sleeper bus. "2+1" means there's a single row of seats on the right side of the bus, while "2" refers to the upper and lower berths, each with two adjacent sleeping positions, separated by a narrow aisle. I had a bad feeling. I had specifically chosen to wear a black Korean-style office lady short-sleeved fitted dress and black stockings to make a good impression on my boyfriend's family, showcasing my perfect figure and unique charm. However, on this kind of sleeper bus, my attire was extremely inappropriate. All my advantages turned into disadvantages, making me prone to accidental exposure and attracting perverts. I carefully looked around the bus. The single berths on the left were already full, and although each row of double berths on the right had two seats, they were right next to each other, with a combined width of less than a meter. Wearing a skirt, I naturally didn't want to squeeze in with strange men. I walked all the way to the middle and back of the bus before finding that the lower berth in the last row was still empty. I secretly rejoiced, thinking that the bus would depart at 12 o'clock, and even if a few more people got on, they would sit in the front and wouldn't squeeze into the last row with me. So I lay down in the last row by the window. Sure enough, two or three more passengers got on after me. Seeing that there were no single seats, they found empty seats in the front. But it was this seemingly clever decision that made my memory of the long-distance sleeper bus unforgettable.
As the bus started moving, a man in his forties hurriedly boarded. After glancing around the carriage, he headed straight for the last row, and I inwardly cursed my bad luck. He approached me and politely asked, "Miss, is this seat taken?" I had no choice but to shake my head. He smiled and nodded, placed a large suitcase on the shelf opposite me, and then sat down in the seat next to me. While he was putting down his luggage, I secretly sized him up. He had dark skin, wore a dark red men's t-shirt tucked into blue jeans, and was reasonably clean, which made me secretly breathe a sigh of relief. Perhaps due to regular exercise or manual labor, he placed the suitcase with ease, and his movements revealed strong arms and a robust build, without the typical potbelly of a middle-aged man. However, what made me uncomfortable was that when he lay down in the seat, our shoulders, backs, and legs inevitably pressed together.
"Hey little sister, you're a college student, right? Are you home for vacation?" The man probably thought I was a college student because I was young and pretty and not wearing much makeup.
I remember blushing and my heart pounding when a boy approached me for the first time in middle school, but now, much later, I'm much more experienced. Although this was the first time a man so much older than me had approached me, I didn't take it too seriously. I just thought he was a bit shameless and had questionable taste. But perhaps out of professional habit, I smiled slightly at him and politely said, "Sir, you have good taste. I'm home visiting family, but I've been working for two years now."
The man, realizing he'd guessed wrong, chuckled awkwardly and said, "Oh, seeing how young you are, I thought you were a student! I run my own business. I live here, and I'm going to ** city for business." I thought to myself, "I didn't even ask you, and you're already introducing yourself. You're so informal." But then I thought about how mature and sexy I looked, and how my dress was an office lady style, and he still guessed I was a college student, and I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. After exchanging a few polite words with him, I turned my head to look out the window and ignored him.
About half an hour after the bus left the station, we entered the highway. I noticed the passengers were all drawing their curtains, so I did too, and the bus gradually darkened. Perhaps because of the dim light, or perhaps because I had stayed up too late the night before, I felt waves of drowsiness wash over me. My eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and I slowly closed my eyes… I don't know how long I slept, but I was suddenly awakened by an itchy sensation on my inner thigh. In my drowsy state, the feeling seemed familiar, because it made my heart itch too—it felt like my boyfriend's hand… I suddenly snapped back to reality. No, this was a long-distance bus; it must be the middle-aged man next to me groping me. I slightly opened my eyes and glanced to the side. Sometime during the journey, a blanket had been placed over me, and the middle-aged man was groping my body under the thin blanket.
The middle-aged man next to me was lying flat on his seat, pretending to be asleep with his eyes closed. His left hand, hidden under the blanket, was caressing the inside of my thigh through my skirt, slowly moving towards my private parts. His movements were very gentle; his fingers rhythmically circled my skirt. At first, I only felt an itch on my thigh, but gradually I felt an itch all over my body from his touch. He seemed very familiar with the female body, quickly finding my genitals—how audacious! I didn't know what to do, so I continued to pretend to be asleep, feeling utterly disgusted and ashamed.
This middle-aged man was cunning. He pretended to be asleep while slowly caressing my private parts. He placed his palm on my vulva, his middle finger searching for my slit, while his little finger and thumb rested on my soft inner thigh… “What should I do? If I just push his hand away from my private parts, he might continue to harass me! If I shout ‘sexual harassment,’ not only will I be embarrassed, but if I anger him, will it be bad for me?”
That’s it! I’ll pretend to be asleep for now, then squeeze my legs together, and when he tries to pull his hand away, I’ll suddenly turn my body inward to escape his clutches. At the same time, I’ll let him know, “I’m awake, get your hand off my body…” This way, we can both have some leeway.
Thinking of this, I suddenly squeezed my legs together forcefully, intending to startle him and make him remove his hand. But unexpectedly, as I squeezed my legs together, I also tightly gripped his palm. Even more surprisingly, he was very experienced, and his caressing technique was very skillful. Not only did he not leave my body, but the side of his palm, under the pressure of my legs, pressed firmly against the slit of my vulva.
Oh... how could this be...? This man's hand stuck there only intensified my physical sensations; my heart started racing, and my private parts felt hot—probably because my body is more sensitive before my period.
Seeing me suddenly squeeze my legs together, the middle-aged man's rough hands began to caress the inside of my thighs, while the side of his hand rubbed back and forth between my labia. My squeezing my legs together didn't stop his assault; instead, it made him think my body was aroused by his touch.
I decided to take further action to stop his assault. I suddenly turned and moved my body towards the inside of the carriage, simultaneously changing the position of my legs, allowing my private parts to escape his clutches. My movement seemed to startle the man; his hand stopped moving.
Just when I thought my actions had warned him and he wouldn't assault me again, the middle-aged man rolled over, pressing his strong chest tightly against my back. He then used his entire body to push me into a corner of the carriage. I knew I was in trouble; he was going to continue assaulting me. Sure enough, a moment later, one of his hands was on my calf again. Seeing that I didn't react, he slowly moved his hand up my inner thigh. This time, he was bolder, actually slipping his hand directly under my skirt, slowly moving along my smooth stockings. His fingers found my vulva again and began to caress it.
Before, his harassment was through my skirt, which, although it made me feel itchy, my body could still tolerate it. But this time, his fingers were directly pressing against my vulva, with only a thin layer of lace panties and sheer black stockings on the outside. Soon, I blushed and my heart was pounding from his caresses, and my vulva slowly became wet. I couldn't help but squeeze my legs together again. At this moment, the middle-aged man seemed to notice the change in my body. He suddenly grabbed one side of my panties and stockings, pulling them tightly between my labia, and began to shake them back and forth.
I knew he was rubbing my panties and stockings against my labia… I had never felt this before, but it did feel very good. He seemed to know a lot about the female body, knowing how to tease my sensitive areas to arouse me. He was doing such a disgusting thing to me, yet my body became more and more aroused, and this excitement kept battering my self-esteem.
I knew that if this continued, my vagina would become even wetter, and my juices would slowly flow onto my panties and stockings, which would undoubtedly excite this man even more. I couldn't let this happen. Thinking of this, my shame overcame my excitement, and I forcefully pushed his hand away, then used my hands to firmly block my vulva.
Then there were a few minutes of calm. The middle-aged man knew I was resisting, but he pretended to be asleep as if nothing had happened. After a while, the middle-aged man turned over, facing the aisle. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but still didn't dare remove my hand from my private parts. At this moment, the middle-aged man pretended to yawn, then slowly stood up, took a small pouch from his suitcase, placed it under his pillow, and then turned around to pull the curtain of the last row of compartments closed, so that the passengers on the opposite side of the aisle couldn't see what was happening in our berth. Although I didn't know what he was going to do, I was certain that this man hadn't given up on my body.
The middle-aged man covered me with the blanket again, then slowly lay down. I felt his chest pressed tightly against my back again, and a deep voice sounded in my ear: "Little beauty, did you feel good just now? Dressed so sexily on a long bus ride, with that tight skirt and black stockings, isn't it just so you can get someone to touch you?"
Although I wanted to refute that it wasn't a tight skirt, it was true that I was dressed like that. I was afraid that if I spoke, he would say something even more embarrassing, so I didn't answer him.
"This is the first time I've met such a young and beautiful girl like you on a long-distance bus. If you just listen to me, I guarantee I'll make you feel incredibly good and let you experience the joy of being a woman." After saying this, he reached under the blanket again and placed his hand on my hand, which was protecting my private parts. I immediately covered my private parts tightly with one hand and placed the other hand across my chest to prevent him from violating my breasts.
Seeing that I was protecting my private parts tightly, making it impossible for him to find a way to do anything, the middle-aged man reached into the pouch under the pillow and started rummaging for something. Suddenly, I felt a chill on my face. It turned out that the middle-aged man was using the sheath of a small knife to slash at my face. I was so scared that my heart almost jumped out of my body, and my whole body began to tremble uncontrollably, my chest heaving violently. Just then, the voice came again: "Little beauty, don't be stubborn. I'm going to take you down today. You'd better behave and not move or make a sound, or I'll feel sorry for you if you get a scar or two on your pretty face."
I was spoiled by my parents growing up, and I'd never experienced such a tense moment before. My mind went blank, terrified that he would actually pull out a knife and hurt me. Normally eloquent, I was now too nervous to utter a single word. I tried to catch my breath, regain my composure, and stammered, "B-Big brother, let's...let's talk...what...what do you want?" The
middle-aged man, perhaps seeing how frightened I was, chuckled and said, "You're an educated college student, don't you know what I want? As long as you behave and don't move or scream, I won't hurt you. Besides, a beautiful woman like you, I'm too busy being nice to you, how could I bear to be rough with you? How about it?"
I knew there was still a long way to go before the bus arrived at the station. For hours, no matter what I did, I couldn't escape his grasp. Today, I was doomed. A beautiful woman doesn't fight fire with fire, so I slowly nodded and said, "Then... put the knife away first." Seeing that I had yielded to his request, the middle-aged man immediately put the knife back in his bag. Then he moved closer to my body again, one hand reaching towards my private parts. I was already frozen with fear, my hands still in the same position. He slowly took my hand that had been protecting my private parts and gently placed it on the outside of my thigh. Then he slipped his hand under my skirt and began his previous actions, slowly stroking from my inner thigh towards my vulva. I knew it was wrong for him to touch my body like that, but the memory of the knife that had just slid across my face made my body feel like it had been frozen in place, unable to move.
Seeing that I was compliant and no longer resisted, the middle-aged man began rubbing my panties and stockings against my labia again. As the rubbing continued, the fear and stiffness I had felt earlier were gradually dispelled by this strange sensation, and the initial excitement surged back. It was itchy, and my vagina felt hot again, as if it had already begun to moisten.
At this moment, the humiliation of being forced by a stranger, the excitement of being touched by a pervert, and the thrill of being discovered constantly assaulted my fragile psychological defenses. This strange feeling was unbearable. Although I was being forced, I suddenly felt a strong urge not to let the stranger leave my body. Involuntarily, I straightened my legs and leaned back into the middle-aged man's arms. The
middle-aged man seemed to sense the changes in my body and mind, and began to stroke my panties and stockings between my labia with his fingers. An even stronger itching sensation washed over me, and I couldn't help but let out a soft moan. Just then, the middle-aged man's heavy breathing reached my ear again: "You little slut, you don't want the whole busload of people watching your performance, do you?!" I snapped back to reality, tightly covering my mouth with my hand, trying to stifle a sound, while simultaneously feeling waves of pleasure emanating from under my skirt.
Just as my fear began to subside, my body slowly softened, and my vagina enjoyed the stimulating and exciting sensation, a familiar phone rang from the bag above my head. I knew it was my boyfriend's phone. A surge of nervousness welled up inside me. What would he think if he knew his girlfriend was being played with by a stranger on a long-distance bus? I turned to the middle-aged man and whispered, "It's my boyfriend on the phone!" At the same time, I put my left index finger to my lips, gesturing for him to be quiet. He grinned wickedly and nodded, removing his finger from my vagina. I gave him a grateful look, then took the phone out of my bag.
"Honey, are you on the bus?" my boyfriend's concerned voice came through the phone.
"Um, I'm...I'm on the train, the noon train." I answered my boyfriend's phone, glancing at the middle-aged man staring at me, and couldn't help but feel nervous.
My nervousness probably piqued the man's interest again; he suddenly reached under the blanket with both hands, lifted my skirt, and began to pull down my black stockings and underwear. I was on the phone with my boyfriend and, fearing he might cause trouble, dared not offend him. My body could only falter under his advances, slowly shrinking towards a corner of the carriage.
My boyfriend, unaware that his phone call had become an accomplice to a stranger assaulting his girlfriend, continued, "Then you'll be here before five this afternoon, right? I'll pick you up at the station!"
"Oh, okay, but the driver said the highway is closed for roadwork, so we'll have to take a detour. It might be two hours later than usual. I'll call you then." Suddenly, the middle-aged man reached out and pulled me into his arms, lifting me gently and pulling my stockings and underwear down to my knees. I felt a little anxious, and my speech quickened considerably.
My boyfriend, of course, was unaware of my situation and continued his incessant chatter: "They always do roadwork on weekends. I really don't know what those highway workers do all day. Remember to buy something to eat when you stop." Then, the middle-aged man slowly moved his hand from my waist to my left shoulder, then slipped it under the neckline of my dress, pushed aside my bra, and roughly kneaded my right breast with his large hand, while his other hand simultaneously reached under my skirt and pressed against my vulva.
I gasped softly, "Ah!" A hand landed on the middle-aged man's hand that was violating my private parts. My boyfriend's concerned voice immediately came through the phone: "What's wrong, honey? What happened?" I quickly explained, "Nothing, nothing. A big truck just drove past me, it startled me." At the same time, I pouted and glared at the middle-aged man. He gave me an admiring look, then inserted his fingers into my vagina. I clamped my legs tightly around his hand, but immediately a tantalizing, tingling sensation spread from my vagina. At that moment, I had no mind to talk to my boyfriend on the phone.
"I'm not talking to you anymore, my phone is almost out of battery. Don't call me again, I'll call you when I'm almost there." Without waiting for my boyfriend's reply, I quickly hung up the phone. At that moment, the middle-aged man held my full breasts with one hand, gently stroking my already hardened nipple with one finger, while the fingers of his other hand kept teasing my clitoris. Just as I hung up the phone, I felt as if two streams of heat flowed from my nipples and vagina throughout my body, and soon my vagina was overflowing with moisture.
Seeing that I hurriedly hung up the phone with my boyfriend, the middle-aged man seemed satisfied with my behavior and began kissing my earlobe. He whispered in my ear, "You little slut, you're so wet down there, is it good? I really have to thank your boyfriend for the call, otherwise it wouldn't have been so easy to disarm you. Being touched while talking to your boyfriend, isn't that exciting?" I playfully retorted, "You're so naughty!" Seeing that I acquiesced to his actions, the middle-aged man went further, saying, "You're so slim, but I didn't expect your breasts to be so big. Being your boyfriend must be so lucky." At this moment, under the teasing of the middle-aged man's hands and lewd words, my body and mind were almost on the verge of collapse. My already pitiful self-esteem was shattered, and the guilt towards my boyfriend and the shame of being played with were fading under the impact of the intense physical pleasure.
I slowly rested my head on the middle-aged man's shoulder, leaning my body against his strong chest, my buttocks raised, my legs slightly apart, welcoming his fingers as they teased my clitoris. Gradually, my body grew hotter and hotter, and my body twisted uncontrollably. Seeing that I had completely let go, the middle-aged man began to kiss my neck, while his hands kneading my breasts increased the pressure, and his fingers inside my vagina went straight to my clitoris, rhythmically teasing the most sensitive part of my body. At the same time, I was enduring the middle-aged man's teasing of three different parts of my body. I admit that even my boyfriend had never given me such intense pleasure in so many sensitive areas. Under the middle-aged man's simultaneous three-pronged attack, my body grew weaker and weaker, and three different pleasures washed over me like waves. After about ten minutes, I suddenly wrapped my arms tightly around the middle-aged man's neck, my body twisting violently in his arms, and I couldn't help but let out a soft moan again. In an instant, my body reached the peak of pleasure, and I actually orgasmed... This was the first time I had ever been brought to orgasm by someone's touch, and it happened on a long-distance bus, in the arms of a stranger. The feeling of orgasm slowly faded, although the excitement in my body continued to surge, but reason was slowly overcoming desire. The moment I regained my senses, I couldn't help but blame myself. Was I a slutty woman? How could I orgasm on a long-distance bus, under the teasing of a stranger? My situation naturally didn't escape the notice of the middle-aged man holding me. His voice whispered in my ear again, "Little beauty, you've come, haven't you? How does my technique compare to your boyfriend's?" To be fair, the middle-aged man's technique was indeed very skillful. He made me feel very comfortable all over. Through his initial caresses of my body, he gradually mastered my sensitive spots. Later, whether it was kissing my earlobes and neck, rubbing my breasts, or teasing my clitoris, he could find the most sensitive spot for me in every way. The difference between my boyfriend and him in this respect was like heaven and earth. Although I didn't answer his lewd question, I knew that as long as he saw the contradictory look in my eyes—a look of desire mixed with resistance—the answer was self-evident.
Just as I was wondering what the middle-aged man would do to me next, the car's loudspeaker announced: "Passengers, due to highway closure for construction ahead, the bus will be taking a detour and will stop at a rest area before exiting the highway. Passengers who need to rest may disembark. The stop will last 15 minutes. Please be prepared." Hearing the announcement, the other passengers opened their curtains. I quickly used the time it took for the announcement to repeat to put on my underwear and stockings, which the middle-aged man had pulled down to my knees, and tidied my disheveled hair. The middle-aged man stared intently at me as I finished dressing, and whispered, "You're so beautiful. Do you want to get off later?" Hearing him compliment my beauty, I felt a surge of excitement, and nodded at him, my eyes filled with longing. He added, "You can go down if you want, but I need to ask you two favors." I couldn't figure out what he was up to. Suddenly, it occurred to me that he might want to use the restroom with me while we were down... I decided to strike first and immediately said, "It's only ten minutes or so. We both need to use the restroom, and the gas station isn't very big, with so many people. You want to..." He suddenly interrupted me, grinning mischievously, "What are you thinking? I just want you to buy some food and drinks. We still have several hours to go. Don't let my little beauty get hungry." Hearing him say that, my face flushed instantly, and I cursed myself for being so talkative! The middle-aged man stared at me, who was blushing, and whispered in my ear, "The second thing is, after you get off the bus, could you take off your bra, stockings, and panties? That way it will be more convenient for both of us when we come back, and I promise it will make you more comfortable." Hearing this, my face, which had just returned to normal, suddenly burned even hotter. I hesitated and said, "Ah? How can I? I still need to buy food. There are so many people in the rest area; if someone sees what I'm wearing… it'll be so… so embarrassing." As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted it. How could I be so stupid? Didn't I realize I wanted to take them off, and that I was only reluctant because I was afraid of being seen in the crowd? He chuckled and whispered in my ear, "You little slut, I knew you'd take your clothes off. I'll teach you a trick. Take your bag downstairs, put your clothes in it, and then use the bag to cover your chest. Nobody will see anything."
At that moment, I was angry with myself for being so lewd. Hearing his suggestion, a thought suddenly popped into my head: if I didn't sit on his bunk when I got back, but instead found a seat in front, wouldn't I be free from his clutches and never have to be played with again? Although being played with by him had been incredibly pleasurable, and I'd even reached orgasm, my shame and pride had once again overcome my desires. I secretly decided that I wouldn't take off anything for a while. After using the restroom and buying my things, I'd find an empty seat in the front when everyone else boarded. The middle-aged man would be in the last row; he could just fly over and devour me! Thinking this, I couldn't help but show a smug expression. Afraid he'd discover my deception, I quickly composed myself and feigned reluctance, pleading, "Is this okay? Why are you so mean? Wasn't playing with me enough? Now you want me to strip naked again?" Seeing I didn't refuse, the middle-aged man whispered, "This is just the beginning. Just obediently remove the obstructions, and I'll show you what a real climax is." I'd already devised a plan to escape his control and knew there was no point in arguing anymore, so I nodded reluctantly and said dismissively, "Okay then."
At that moment, the car slowly slowed down, rounded a bend, and pulled into a gas station beside the highway.
Seeing that I had agreed to his request, the middle-aged man turned around and pulled open the curtain of the partition. Then he got up, took my hand, and led me to the narrow aisle to wait in line to get off the train. Just as we got off and I was about to go to the women's restroom, he suddenly reached into his pocket, pulled out a cell phone, waved it at me, and then smiled and said loudly, "Honey, go buy me something nice to eat. I'm a little hungry. We still have more than four hours to go. I
'll wait for you on the train!" I was angry at how he addressed me in public when I suddenly saw the cell phone he was holding. I immediately felt a chill run down my spine. Wasn't that the cell phone I had used to answer my boyfriend's call? How did it end up in his hands? I suddenly realized that he had taken the cell phone from my berth while I was still excited. It contained the phone numbers of my boyfriend, relatives, and colleagues. If I had refused him earlier, and he had shown it on the train, I would have been hesitant to comply with all his demands. But he only took it out now, clearly having seen through my plan, forcing me to return to my seat later.
"Okay, honey, I know. Be a good girl and wait for me in the car." Now that I understood all his schemes, I was forced to play the wife, feeling helpless and at a loss.
I walked helplessly into the women's restroom, wondering what the middle-aged man would do with my phone if I didn't satisfy his demands. With that thought, I reluctantly took off my black dress, put my bra, stockings, and panties into my handbag, wiped away the remaining fluids around my vulva, put my dress back on, and left the restroom. My
dress was a fitted, figure-hugging type, and although I wasn't wearing a bra... My skirt was still stretched taut by my firm breasts, my nipples particularly noticeable against the streamlined fabric. I used my handbag to cover my chest and hastily bought some bread, sausages, and drinks at the supermarket. As I put my bag down to pay, I clearly felt the cashier's eyes fixed on my chest. Without even counting the money, I hurriedly fled the supermarket.
When I returned to the long-distance bus, most of the passengers hadn't returned yet. The middle-aged man was fiddling with my phone. Seeing that I had obediently returned to the last row, he smiled contentedly and said, "Wife's back. I was starving." I had no idea what he had done with my phone. My heart pounded with anxiety, fearing he might call my boyfriend. I quickly handed him the food I had just bought, forcing a smile in front of the other passengers, saying, "I bought you bread and sausages. Do you like them?" He took the plastic bag containing food and drinks, casually patted my chest to make sure I wasn't wearing a bra, then stared at the two dots peeking out from under my dress and said with a double entendre, "You love to eat, you love to eat, honey, you're so good to me!" I glared at him and ignored him.
Soon, the passengers returned to the bus, and the carriage became lively. I lay back down in my window seat, stretched out my right hand to the middle-aged man, pouted, and whispered, "I've done everything you asked, can you give me back my phone now?" The middle-aged man readily placed the phone in my hand, as if reading my mind, and said, "Don't worry, I didn't use your phone to do anything bad." "Hearing him say that, I felt a huge weight lifted from my heart, but I was still uneasy. I quickly checked my phone for calls and messages. Sure enough, just as he said, I hadn't made or received any calls during this time, and the message history was clear. I put my phone back in my bag, still feeling uneasy. How could such a cunning middle-aged man let my phone go? The middle-aged man seemed to read my mind and said, 'I originally wanted to get your phone number, but I know my place. How could a beautiful woman like you be interested in an old and ugly man like me? You're just good for my eyes on this long bus ride.' Hearing him portray himself as so pitiful, and remembering the way he had teased my clitoris earlier, I sarcastically said, 'You're not as bad as you make yourself out to be. You're so experienced with women, you know more about their bodies than my boyfriend does, and you're very cunning, knowing how to use coercion and seduction. Every request you make makes me feel like I can't refuse.'" "I keep thinking, if I'd known you'd made me like this, I would have refused you from the start." I said, staring directly into his eyes.
The middle-aged man knew I was deliberately being sarcastic, but he didn't argue. His eyes were fixed intently on my chest, the expression on his face making me feel as if I were lying naked in front of him. I couldn't stand his aggressive gaze. My face flushed, and I muttered "Ugh," turning towards the window. I thought to myself, "I've given in again." A feeling of helplessness slowly rose within me.
Then, the car started moving. I saw the carriage gradually quiet down again, everyone drawing their curtains. I drew mine, then secretly glanced at the middle-aged man. Seeing me get up to draw the curtain, he turned back and drew the partition curtain again, then covered me with the blanket once more. This time, he even took off my high heels… I lay down… Sitting in my seat, listening to my increasingly rapid heartbeat, I tried to control my nervous yet excited emotions, awaiting the middle-aged man's advances. My shame intensified; I realized I had taken off my bra and panties next to a stranger on a long-distance bus. Although I was forced, I wasn't actually resisting; in fact, I felt a strong sense of excitement, even hoping the man would come and do something to me. How could I be so lewd? How could I do this to my boyfriend who cherished me so much? Are all women's bodies so easily tempted?
About ten minutes later, as I was lost in thought and filled with self-reproach, a voice sounded in my ear again, "Wife, everyone else is asleep. Aren't you sleepy?" I listened to the snoring in the carriage for a while and shook my head slightly. "My little beauty, what's wrong? Is something bothering you and keeping you awake? Are you thinking about how much your husband loves you?" "The middle-aged man was whispering lewd things in my ear, occasionally kissing it and blowing air into it, making it tickle. He had hit a nerve, and my heart was pounding faster, my chest heaving. Before he even made a move, my body reacted. Then, one of his arms went around my head and draped over my shoulder, while his other arm encircled my waist. With a slight pull, he drew me into his arms. My head was resting on his strong forearm, feeling his powerful chest and arms. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and my body began to feel weak." I slowly closed my eyes, gradually losing myself in his masculine scent. Seeing my eyes closed, the middle-aged man knew I acquiesced to his actions. Suddenly, his arms crossed over my chest, and without my bra, his hands grasped my two full breasts. I gave a soft "hmm," and instinctively placed my hands on his. Then, the middle-aged man began to knead my breasts incessantly, his pressure perfectly controlled, leaving me between pain and pleasure. My body slowly grew hot, and my vagina gradually became wet. Then, the middle-aged man's voice came again: "Wife, does it feel good? A woman's breasts are the most sensitive part besides her vagina. In a moment, I'll make you love this feeling." "I heard his voice and slowly relaxed my body, my hands that had been tightly gripping the middle-aged man slowly falling down. Seeing that I had released his hands, the middle-aged man simultaneously kneaded my breasts from bottom to top with both palms, while his fingers circled my areolas around my nipples. My boyfriend had never played with my breasts so carefully before; he always just gave them a quick caress before rushing into my body. With this comparison in mind, the pleasure from my nipples became even more intense, and the tingling, itchy sensation in my breasts traveled throughout my body."
At this moment, the middle-aged man's fingers began to rapidly flick my already hardened nipples, waves of pleasure washing over me like tidal waves. I rubbed my back against his chest, letting out low moans. Seeing that the time was right, the middle-aged man removed his right hand from my breast and slipped it under my skirt, beginning to caress my vulva. At the same time, he lowered his head and used his tongue to suckle my nipples, filling the void left by his right hand. Waves of cool, tingling, and itchy pleasure seeped through my skirt from my nipples, and I felt a surge of excitement, experiencing the simultaneous stimulation from both my upper and lower body. Then the middle-aged man's voice came again: "Wife, you're so wet down there, you're about to cum again, aren't you? Your breasts feel good from what I'm doing, don't they? Can I kiss you?" By this time, I was so weak from his touch that my whole body felt sore, as if I were lying on a cloud. How could I possibly refuse him? I nodded shyly. Seeing my nod, the middle-aged man started kissing me from my neck, slowly moving over my ears, eyes, and cheeks, finally kissing my lips. A strange taste came from his mouth, and I couldn't help but feel a little resistant. But after a while, the pleasure of his caresses stimulated my nerves, and I finally slowly tilted my head back, accepting the middle-aged man's lips. He sucked on my lips frantically, then suddenly thrust his tongue into my mouth, teasing my tongue. It seemed as if the desire hidden within me was being drawn out little by little by his tongue. My juices flowed down my thighs, and my body writhed under the onslaught of the middle-aged man's mouth, tongue, and hands. I responded to his French kiss with my own tongue. The middle-aged man seemed excited by our passionate kiss in the carriage. He removed his hand from my vagina, touched my right hand, and placed my palm on his already erect penis. I timidly stroked this stranger's hard penis, feeling a surge of excitement, unsure of what to do.
At this moment, the middle-aged man pulled away from my lips and whispered in my ear, "Wife, your lips are so sexy, your little tongue is so smooth and soft, can you kiss my little brother?" I didn't expect the middle-aged man to ask me to give him oral sex on the long-distance bus. I looked embarrassed and said, "Here? No...it's not good, other people will see, and besides, I...I don't know how."
"It's okay, I'll stand outside, you can kiss me under the blanket, no one can see. If you don't know how, I can teach you. Besides, you can compare mine with your boyfriend's! I've made you feel good, you won't just watch me hold back, will you?" The middle-aged man said to me in a negotiating tone.
His words aroused my already high desire. I looked around. The carriage was dim, and I could hear snores from time to time. So I made up my mind and shyly nodded slightly to him. He sat up straight, his back pressed firmly against the backrest, then leaned slightly forward, blocking the aisle with his burly frame. He then had me curl up between his legs, and he covered my head with a blanket. He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his thick, dark penis. It was much thicker and longer than my boyfriend's, and the glans wasn't fully erect yet. What intrigued me was that his glans lacked the long foreskin my boyfriend had. In the darkness, my mouth slowly approached his penis. I smelled a mixture of urine and sweat. I reached out my right hand and gently grasped his penis, holding my breath, closing my eyes, and slowly kissing the glans. My lips touched his glans... In an instant, his penis seemed to suddenly become aroused, the glans erect, and the shaft even longer and thicker than before. At the same time, his hands began to knead my breasts through my skirt. I opened my mouth and took the middle-aged man's glans in, just like I would my boyfriend's. His glans was much bigger than my boyfriend's, and it filled my mouth completely before I could even get it in. I had never given oral sex to anyone other than my boyfriend; even with him, it was only to make his penis thicker and longer so it could be inserted into my vagina. At this moment, I clumsily held the middle-aged man's penis in my mouth, letting it go in and out. After a long time, the middle-aged man's penis slowly softened. Then, the middle-aged man's helpless voice rang in my ear again: "Good sister, Xin..." "It's tough, but is this how you give your boyfriend oral sex? He didn't teach you how to make a man feel good, did he?" Hearing his words, I took his penis out of my mouth and looked at him pitifully, saying, "I already said I don't know how, but you insisted I do it like this. I've already put it in my mouth, so I'm not doing it anymore." The middle-aged man saw that I seemed really angry, and gave me a helpless, bitter smile, saying, "I'm sorry, honey, don't be angry. I know this depends on your mood. How about you try doing it this way?" Seeing his tone soften and his pitiful, pleading look, I said to him, "If you still can't do it right, don't say anything to me again." Seeing that I agreed to give him oral sex again, the middle-aged man chuckled and said, "Okay, first use both hands to hold..." He stroked the base of my penis a couple of times. Following his instructions, I first grasped his already softening penis with both hands and slowly stroked it up and down. Soon, his penis regained its erection, the glans becoming proud and hard again. Seeing the penis in my hands growing thicker and harder, I couldn't help but feel excited. Then the middle-aged man said, "Put it in your mouth and lick the area where the glans and shaft connect; that's the most sensitive spot for a man." I did as he said, taking his penis into my mouth again and licking the edge of the glans with my tongue. Soon, I could clearly feel his penis getting hotter and hotter. Holding the increasingly thick and hard penis in my hands, I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. "That feels so good, honey, you're licking me so well. Don't stop, keep your hands moving, slowly increase the speed, lick other parts of my cock." Hearing him praise me for making me feel good, I did as he said and sucked his penis even more vigorously. Sometimes I licked the veins that were sticking out on his penis, sometimes I licked his two testicles, and sometimes I licked his erect glans. At the same time, my hands kept stroking his penis, gradually increasing the speed. While I was giving him oral sex, I kept thinking that his penis was much thicker than my boyfriend's, and his glans was also much bigger than my boyfriend's. I wondered what it would feel like to let him penetrate my little honey hole. If my boyfriend hadn't come to pick me up at the station, I would really like to experience the feeling of being penetrated by a middle-aged man's penis. I gave the middle-aged man oral sex for about half an hour. Suddenly, he said to me, "Wife, use your hands harder, speed up, I'm going to cum." Hearing this, I took his penis into my mouth and sucked on it, increasing the speed and pressure of my stroking. Suddenly, his penis became scalding hot, and the glans in my mouth trembled. I knew he was about to ejaculate. What should I do? Maybe I should let him ejaculate in my mouth, otherwise, I wouldn't be able to explain it to my boyfriend if it got on my dress. Thinking this, I opened my mouth and took his penis in. I felt a warm liquid shoot deep into my throat. Soon, my mouth was full of the middle-aged man's semen. The semen tasted strange, slightly fishy. The only thing I liked was how slippery it was. This was the first time someone had ejaculated in my mouth; my boyfriends always ejaculated directly into my vagina or into a condom. The first taste of semen made me feel nauseous and want to vomit, but afraid of staining my dress, I had to suppress the urge to vomit and slowly swallow the semen that kept being ejaculated into my mouth. The middle-aged man ejaculated in my mouth for a good half minute. I was afraid that the semen on his penis would stain my skirt, so after I felt the penis in my hand slowly soften, I used my mouth to lick the semen off the head of his penis. Then I took out a wet wipe from my bag and wrapped it around his penis, while wiping the semen off my mouth.
The middle-aged man seemed quite pleased with me after I swallowed all his semen and carefully cleaned his penis. He held me tightly in his arms, and I obediently rested my face on his shoulder. He whispered in my ear, "You learn so quickly! I had such a great time. Your boyfriend is going to be so lucky. I wonder how he'll thank me." I glared at him and replied, "If he knew I was giving a stranger oral sex on the bus, he'd be furious. Thank you? He'd be lucky if he didn't fight me." The middle-aged man teased me, "I didn't force his girlfriend to give me oral sex. Why would he fight me?" Seeing him acting all innocent after getting what he wanted, I punched his firm chest and said coquettishly, "You're so mean! I'm being so nice to you, and you're making fun of me!"
For the next while, he stopped teasing me. Perhaps the ejaculation had exhausted him, because he soon fell asleep. Recalling the scene of giving him oral sex, I also slowly drifted off to sleep in his arms. When we woke up, the sun had already set, and the carriage was getting darker and darker. Gradually, I could no longer see the middle-aged man's expression clearly. When he saw that I was awake, his hands began to tease my body again. Perhaps because he knew that the car was about to arrive at the station, he inserted his fingers directly into my vagina, teasing my clitoris and using skillful techniques to move them up and down inside my vagina. Before long, my body reached orgasm again.
Even the longest journey eventually comes to an end. Soon, the familiar car horn sounded again; we were almost at the final stop. Just as I hesitated whether to call my boyfriend to pick me up, his phone rang again. I answered with a touch of melancholy, telling him the car was almost there. He told me he was already waiting for me at the station. Suddenly, a feeling of disappointment and guilt washed over me. I hung up, dried myself off, and took out my bra, panties, and stockings from my bag. With the middle-aged man's help, I put on my bra. Just as I finished putting on my panties... As I was putting on my stockings, the middle-aged man suddenly hugged me and kissed my lips. I responded passionately, and he whispered in my ear, "This is the first time I've met such a beautiful and bold girl like you on a bus. Can I keep the stockings as a souvenir?" I figured my boyfriend wouldn't suspect anything even if I didn't wear stockings, since I was wearing a dress, so I clutched the stockings in my hand and said, "Then behave yourself when you get off the bus. Don't let my boyfriend find out about our relationship." The middle-aged man nodded and slowly pulled the stockings from my hand. I turned around, took out a mirror, and tidied my messy hair.
A moment later, the bus slowly pulled into the station, and passengers got up with their luggage and headed towards the door. Sitting at the very back, the middle-aged man and I walked last, and I reluctantly made my way to the door. Just as we reached the middle of the bus, the middle-aged man seemed to remember something and gently placed his hand on my waist, saying, "What's your name? Can you tell me?" I let him caress me one last time, thinking, "Here we go again with this threatening trick." I said nothing and quickly walked towards the door. The moment I stepped out of the car, the middle-aged man's hand indeed withdrew from my waist. I breathed a sigh of relief, and then my boyfriend's familiar voice came from beside me, "Liu Miao, I'm here." My heart sank again. I heard the middle-aged man's chuckle behind me, and following my boyfriend's voice, I saw him. At the same time, I knew that my struggle with the middle-aged man had ended in defeat once again. At that moment, I probably would never have imagined that it was this name my boyfriend called out that would plunge me into an abyss of desire from which there was no return.

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What happened on the long-distance bus last weekend is absolutely true.

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