My sensitive body on the bus

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

My name is Ya-yan, I'm twenty-two years old. I started working at eighteen, and thanks to my hard work and perseverance, I'm now an administrative manager at a listed company. I started living alone at nineteen because my parents disliked me for being a daughter, so I lived with my grandparents. They both passed away when I was nineteen, so I left my old home, rented a new place, and started my own life.
My company's closing time is 5 PM, but I didn't leave until 6 PM that day. Going home takes the company shuttle bus, which only takes ten minutes, though it can take a few more minutes during rush hour.
Since many office workers leave at this time, there are quite a few people waiting for the bus. The bus arrived quickly, and I squeezed into the carriage with the crowd. The carriage was packed. My right hand was holding my briefcase, and my left hand tried to find a handrail, but I had no choice; I was already pushed into the crowd.
Suddenly, the crowd behind me jostled me violently, and I lost my balance, crashing into the person in front of me. He was about my height, and I managed to move my head to avoid a face-to-face collision, but my body was immobilized, lying flat on top of him.
Just then, the bus started moving, and the crowd calmed down. Because it was so crowded, I could only remain in my current position, awkwardly pressed against his chest. Since my head was to the side of his head, our sides almost touching, I didn't move my head, afraid my face would hit his. But the person I'd just seen was a man around thirty years old.
I didn't dare move either, because I was pressed so tightly against his chest, afraid he'd misunderstand and think I was rubbing against him. However, even though I wasn't moving, I still needed to breathe, and my chest naturally rose and fell. Gradually, I felt something hard pressing against my lower body; even the most clueless person would know what that meant.
I felt even more embarrassed, yet helpless. What was infuriating was that the other person was subtly moving. I bit my lip in anger, enduring his impolite behavior. Just then, someone touched my buttocks. I felt the hands belong to the man in front of me. I finally turned my head away and glared at him fiercely.
Not only was he fearless, but he also smiled at me and suddenly gave me a light peck on the lips. I immediately turned my head away, refusing to look at his face. I felt extremely humiliated. Apart from my first boyfriend, I had never been kissed by another man. To be kissed by such a despicable man was infuriating!
But before my anger subsided, the hands on my buttocks became even more indecent, tracing my contours and slowly pulling up my skirt inch by inch with their fingers. The form-fitting skirt, which was just an inch away from my knees, was pulled down to a mini-skirt that barely covered my buttocks. Those vile hands continued to caress my thighs, and I began to feel disgusted and scared.
The hands quickly slid to my private parts. I usually wear thongs because most suit skirts are form-fitting, and I don't want my underwear to be visible on my skirt; that's too indecent. Unexpectedly, this time it was the man who benefited. After kneading my buttocks for a while, his hand moved to the front, caressing my vulva through my underwear.
Being touched there by someone else made me shift my body slightly, which only aroused him. He sighed softly in my ear, then pressed his lips to my ear and breathed.
"Oh my god!" I couldn't help but exclaim inwardly. My ears are my most sensitive spot; even a light touch or breath from someone makes my whole body go weak and limp, and I'm easily aroused. This time, he'd gotten away with it by accident, how terrible! I bit my lip, suppressing the moan that almost escaped my lips.
But my body leaned even more weakly against his chest, and his fingers pried open my underwear, pressing against the outside of my labia, his fingers wantonly kneading my private parts. To make matters worse, his mouth didn't stop, breathing hot air into my ear, my chin resting limply on his shoulder.
He seemed to sense my change, continuing to breathe in my ear, while my secret place, disobeying my embarrassment, continued to secrete fluids.
His fingers smeared the fluids, applying them to my vulva like oil, then slipped between my tightly closed labia, kneading my clitoris.
Was it the tickling of my ear, or because I hadn't been touched by a man in so long? Or did I truly possess a wanton nature? How could I secrete fluids even when being molested? The moment my clitoris was being rubbed, a long-lost feeling of excitement surged within me. I hated this feeling, and I hated the urge to moan.
My fluids continued to seep, and my clitoris felt hot and burning. Then, a strange sensation traveled from my clitoris to my forehead, a tingling sensation assaulting my senses. I could barely hold on; I wanted to moan out loud! But then I saw the bus pulling into the station—the very station where I was to get off.
The tingling sensation spread like waves, my lower abdomen involuntarily contracted, and my legs became weak and powerless, as if I were about to collapse. This feeling left me utterly helpless and bewildered. Just as I was about to groan, the crowd in the carriage began to move, and the hand stopped.
It was time for me to get off. I composed myself and followed the crowd off the bus. After getting off, I looked back at the carriage, and the man was still smiling at me, his gaze seemingly lingering. I immediately turned my face away, and only after hearing the bus depart did I start my journey home.
[The End]

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