I'm sharing my wife's true story, even though it's painful.

I'm sharing my wife's true story, written with great effort.
Because I'd been working out of town for a long time and hadn't been home, I really missed my family. So, on Friday evening around 7 PM, Jiaqi and I boarded a long-distance bus to go back to our hometown. The bus was almost full, except for two seats left on either side of a man in the last row. Jiaqi and I went over to ask the man to move over so we could sit together, but he refused and said some nonsense. So, Jiaqi and I sat separately.
I liked being near the window, so I sat to the left of the man, and Jiaqi sat to his right. The bus started moving, and soon it left the city and headed towards the suburbs. Because there was a man in the middle, and we didn't want him to hear our conversation, Jiaqi and I didn't talk. I looked over at Jiaqi and saw that she had fallen asleep in her seat, exhausted. I thought I should also get some sleep after a long day of travel, and we still had more than three hours to go before we got home. So I pulled the curtains over the car window, pressed my head against the curtain and closed my eyes. It was getting dark, but the car was brightly lit because of the lights. Suddenly, all the lights went out. The passengers asked the driver what was wrong, but I couldn't hear what he said because I was too far away. I only knew he said the lights wouldn't turn on, probably because some wiring was broken, and there was no way to fix it, so it would be dark. Most of the passengers had no choice but to lean back in their seats and sleep. At this point, all the windows and curtains were drawn, and the car was pitch black. I could only vaguely see the person sitting next to me; I couldn't even see Jiaqi anymore. I suddenly felt sleepy and wanted to take a nap, but the car was too cold for me. I thought it might be because the air conditioning was on too high, but that wasn't the only reason I felt cold. It was probably because I was wearing a very short skirt, and underneath, besides underwear, I was only wearing trendy black fishnet stockings.
I hugged my upper body tightly to warm myself up. After a while, I drifted off to sleep. Suddenly, I felt something sliding against my knee. I tried to remove it with my right hand, but I was terrified when I touched it. It was a hand, a man's hand. I was instantly wide awake. I knew I was being molested by the man sitting next to me. I glared at this pervert, and he met my gaze, but he showed no sign of backing down and instead boldly reached under my skirt. The pervert's hand slipped inside my miniskirt and quickly touched my inner thigh. I jolted, then immediately tried to remove his sinister hand with both hands, but he was too strong to move it. Then, the pervert became even more brazen; his hand even touched my underwear and slid across my genitals. I couldn't take it anymore. Just as I was about to stand up and shout that there was a pervert, the pervert pulled out something that looked like a fruit knife and pressed it against my waist. In a very soft voice, only the two of us could hear, he said, "Little sister, do you want me to slash your pretty face a few times?" I was stunned. I knew that if I stood up and shouted, I might be able to escape. But what if he really stabbed me twice? I didn't move because I was afraid. I was afraid he would really slash my face. I swear, how many girls would be willing to move around at this moment and have their faces slashed? I had no choice but to let the pervert grope me at will. What made me feel a little better was that we were in the very back corner of the car, and it was dark inside so no one could see us. The pervert seemed to have read my mind and became even bolder, putting his hand inside my underwear. His fingers suddenly touched my labia. I instinctively cried out, but I didn't dare to scream loudly, only letting out a very weak cry, almost inaudible to myself. Although I had a few intimate encounters with my ex-boyfriend three years ago, it was
still very uncomfortable, yet incredibly stimulating, to have a strange, lecherous man touch my private parts. He pulled down my skirt and panties, gently sliding his fingers back and forth across my labia. I don't know if he was arousing me, but my lower body automatically swayed in sync with his fingers. I suddenly realized he was a master of seduction. I wanted to slap myself; I felt so pathetic, how could I think like that? He's a pervert, how could I have been so captivated? But I was still captivated, and soon I was wet. He withdrew his hand, leering at me, and whispered, "Little sister, you're all wet. Let me lick you clean." Only then did I truly see what this pervert looked like. The lecherous man looked to be in his early thirties, with fair skin and large eyes; he was quite handsome and refined. I don't know why I used "handsome" and "refined" to describe him; I think I was truly captivated by him. I felt incredibly pathetic, having been captivated by a complete stranger, and a super lecherous man at that, and even aroused by him. The lecherous man carefully squatted down, his mouth approaching my genitals. Perhaps afraid of waking Jiaqi beside him, his movements were very restrained. I could vaguely see Jiaqi sitting next to me, but I couldn't utter a word.
I moaned softly as his tongue roamed freely inside my vagina, licking almost every inch of my genitals it could reach. But he didn't seem satisfied; he began to suck hard. He sucked every drop of my vaginal fluid mixed with his saliva into his mouth. I didn't find the pervert disgusting at all; on the contrary, the feeling intensified, and I even wanted it inside me…
I felt like a slut, actually wanting to have sex with that pervert. My feelings grew stronger and stronger; I couldn't control them. Like a wild horse, it escaped my lips as I whispered, "Brother, hurry, I want it." The pervert's face showed that he had captured me and achieved his goal. He smugly grinned and whispered, "Don't worry, little sister, brother will make you feel amazing right away!" After saying that, he stood in front of me, unzipped his pants, and took out his penis. Then he raised my legs, and he stroked his penis with one hand. I couldn't help but whisper, "Brother, come and fuck your little sister, I can't hold back anymore." He grinned lewdly and whispered, "Call me 'husband' twice." At this point, I didn't care about anything else and whispered, "Husband, good husband, fuck me quickly." He grinned lewdly and whispered, "Okay, my little beautiful wife, husband is coming to fuck you." He rubbed his penis against my vulva a few times before suddenly thrusting it in. I instinctively let out a soft "Ah!" Immediately realizing I'd made a loud noise, I covered my mouth. I only relaxed when I saw that Jiaqi and the people in front of me didn't react. But I didn't dare remove my hand, keeping my mouth tightly sealed. Although I'd had sex with my ex-boyfriend before, that was over three years ago.
My vagina was tight, and his penis was very thick, so it hurt a lot when he first entered. He probably sensed how tight my vagina was and how much it would hurt when he entered, so he went in very slowly at first. His actions made me feel very considerate; I even felt like I wasn't being raped but having sex with my own husband. I think no rapist would be this considerate. He slowly started to speed up, and I felt less pain. He grabbed my ankles with both hands, lifting my legs very high so that his thick penis could fully enter. At this point, I no longer felt any pain, but rather a strong sense of pleasure. I felt his penis was almost touching my cervix, and it was thrusting rapidly. He lowered my legs and reached for my breasts. His penis was still throbbing, and his hands unbuttoned my clothes and pulled up my bra. My beautiful, firm breasts were fully exposed to him. He first licked my breasts with his tongue, then sucked on them forcefully. I felt that he was sucking too hard, and it hurt a little; I moaned softly. But my feelings grew stronger and stronger; I felt I was about to climax. He released his mouth, looked up at me, and whispered, "My little beauty, how was it? Did you enjoy it?" I didn't speak, just nodded. He whispered again, "Come on, let's change positions." He sat in my seat, making me sit facing him. He kissed my breasts with his mouth, and with his hands supporting my buttocks, he inserted his penis into my vagina and began to move it up and down. I suddenly wanted to ask him if I was making him feel good, so I whispered, "Are you enjoying it?" He chuckled lewdly and whispered, "Of course I am, you're young, your vagina is tight." I moaned and whispered, "Are you married?" He didn't chuckle lewdly anymore and whispered, "Yes."
After saying that, he began to thrust faster and harder. My moans grew faster and faster. After thrusting rapidly for a while, he made me hold onto the back armrests of the seat in front of me, made me stick my buttocks out, and then he knelt on my seat and inserted his penis into my vagina from behind. I knew this was his final position; I felt he was about to ejaculate. I also climaxed. His rapid thrusting sent waves of pleasure through me; I felt like I was flying. My moans quickened, but afraid the people in the seats in front would hear, I covered my mouth and nose tightly. I felt like I couldn't breathe. Then, several streams of hot semen shot into my vagina. He lay on top of me but didn't immediately pull out his penis. After about 20 seconds, he pulled out, and I handed him my tissue. He took it, wiped himself, and put it in the trash bag. I also wiped myself with the tissue, but some semen still dripped under my seat. We both got dressed and sat back down. We didn't say a word after that. Then I remembered that he had ejaculated inside me—could I be pregnant? Just as I was considering whether to ask him, he got off the bus. I didn't look at him again; it was like a dream, and the dream was over.
Postscript: I didn't get pregnant because it was my safe period. A few years later, after I got married myself, I still couldn't help but tell my husband about it.
Sigh. My silly wife, sometimes it's better not to know than to know. Now there's no going back.
(The End)

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I'm sharing my wife's true story, even though it's painful.

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