The pleasure of being gang-raped on a bus

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You'd never guess that my experience of being gang-raped on a bus could be turned into a short, erotic novel about being gang-raped on a bus. Like most short, erotic novels about being gang-raped on a bus, I happened to catch the last bus late at night.

I could have easily taken a taxi home, but since I moved, my new home is quite far away, and taking a taxi wouldn't be cost-effective, so I chose to take the last bus.

Besides me, there were two middle-aged women and three men who seemed to know each other on the last bus. The three men were chatting and laughing with the driver, and I didn't notice them glancing at me out of the corner of their eyes.

A little while later, the two middle-aged women got off, and the bus entered a nearly deserted road. Because it was so late at night, there was no one else on this road. Except for the taillights, there was almost no light.

I was listening to music when, without realizing it, the three men who had been talking to the driver appeared next to me. They looked at me with smiles and asked me questions. I felt the man sitting next to me making unwanted advances, constantly touching my thigh or my waist.

I felt uneasy and tried to get up and leave, but two other men blocked my way. Their questions became increasingly lewd, and they even started openly touching me inappropriately.

After one of the men grabbed my breast, I couldn't take it anymore and started cursing at all three men. The three men's expressions changed instantly. They dragged me off the bus and forced me onto the floor.

I struggled and cried for help. I saw the driver turn around and smile at me before turning off the lights in the bus, leaving only a faint light coming from the driver

's cab. I was terrified and couldn't break free from their hold. I saw my shirt being roughly torn open, the buttons popping off, and my breasts completely exposed to their view.

One of the men grabbed and licked my breasts, while the other man brazenly teased me under my skirt. They uttered filthy words, taking turns venting their desires on me.

I cried as one of the men flipped me over and entered me from behind. This position was so deep that it hit my sensitive spots. He noticed the change in my moans and began a frenzied assault.

Intense pleasure washed over me; it was such a shameful thing, yet I was experiencing pleasure while being forced upon.

That day on that last bus, I can't remember how many times I was violated. The only thing I remember is that until I finally got off the bus, I was trembling with pleasure, almost fainting.

Even in the days that followed, I actually missed that feeling of being gang-raped, always fantasizing about riding that bus that gave me that ecstatic feeling again and again.

Am I really that lewd inside?

[The End]

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The pleasure of being gang-raped on a bus

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