Riding the bus with eggs stuffed inside

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That day, I boiled a few eggs, peeled one, and stuffed it into her vagina. I took a corn sausage, tore off the
plastic wrap, and pushed it deep into her anus.

I wouldn't let her wear underwear and took her out the door. She walked noticeably slower than usual.

I deliberately didn't drive and pulled her off the subway.

I said, "It's too crowded to drive in the city, and parking is inconvenient."

Actually, I wanted to relive that thrill.

She asked me, "You pervert, where are we going?"

I said, "Taking you to buy clothes."

No woman dislikes buying clothes.

On the way, I whispered in her ear, "Wearing a butterfly to go clubbing."

She whispered, "I can't take it anymore! I can't hold it in any longer."

I said, "Then let it fall out. If it falls out, everyone will know you're a slut."

She desperately held back, walking even slower.

We entered the subway. I gripped the handrail. Her soft body pressed against me, her arms wrapped around my arms.

She was uncomfortable inside, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, occasionally wiggling
her hips .

A man next to us, in his early twenties, was holding a copy of the *Beijing Times*, glancing at Ningning every now and then,
then looking down at the paper.

After passing Xidan Station, I pulled her away from the young man and sidled her to the side of the carriage where the doors weren't open, leaning against the door.

I took out a single-pack of Tiantianjie sanitary wipes, tore it open, and slowly wiped my hands.

I always use these wipes to disinfect my fingers before doing anything naughty outdoors. Caring for women
starts with your hands.

When she saw me wiping my hands, she immediately looked up at me, her eyes particularly tense.

After wiping each finger clean, I ran my right hand behind her back, quietly slipping it under her skirt to rub her buttocks.

Soft and fleshy. It felt good. I gently tickled her vulva with my fingertips. She shuddered.

I whispered in her ear, "Pull the egg out. Don't let it come out from behind!"

My voice was just loud enough for her to hear, yet safe enough to be drowned out by the rumbling noise of the subway from six centimeters away.

She blushed and whispered in my ear, "How can you be so lewd?"

I said, "Hurry up. Stop talking nonsense."

She started to exert force subtly.

I bent my right hand into a large spoon and cupped her vulva, while looking at the young man. He had shifty eyes and kept staring at
my woman.

I glared at that bastard. [Here, "glared" is a Beijing slang term for thugs and
hooligans stare at each other maliciously beyond the polite time limit.]

I whispered to Ningning, "I'm not sure I can catch him."

She became even more nervous. I tilted my head and whispered in her ear, "There's a young man staring at you."

She said, "Nonsense. Where?"

I said, "Over there, the one sitting next to that pregnant woman with the newspaper."

She looked in the direction I indicated. That bastard was indeed staring at her.

Her face turned even redder.

I said, "He noticed. Hurry up."

She stared blankly at the young man and started breathing heavily. My right hand felt her labia minora twitch slightly.

I said, "We're almost at the station. Hurry up."

She kept trying, but the egg still wouldn't come out.

The subway roared into the station, stopped, and opened its doors. More people poured in.

Suddenly, my palm felt a drop and a warmth. The egg had slipped into my hand amidst the chaos, slippery and soft. She was indeed an
obedient woman; the corn sausage hadn't come out.

I pulled my hand up, holding the clean, white egg. The young man's eyes widened. I held the
egg to my nose and smelled it.

This scene felt so familiar. Where had I seen it before? Absolutely.

Where?

Hmm, I remember!

Thirteen years ago, I was on a train to Hengyang alone. Outside the window, trees and fields rushed past.

I went to the connecting area between carriages to smoke and saw a couple leaning against the train door.

The woman was tilting her head back to kiss the man, her face flushed. The man was in the same position I am now, and he was even taking a
picture with me.

That sly old man, his eyes clearly saying, "I've got this sheep pen; you can find another one."

I was in my prime then, at the height of my recklessness. "Damn, which carriage is yours?" I said. "This is
it !" While shooing

him away, I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a satisfying drag. I then

pulled a dagger from my back and started slashing at the aluminum edge of the window. [A dagger = a knife. 攮 v. = stab, to stab with a knife
].

I easily sliced off the aluminum edge, leaving a small, curved strip. [You've all sharpened pencils before, haven't you?]

The man was clearly unhappy but helpless, and looked away.

[The End]

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