[The Young Woman in the Iveco Van] (A Thirsty Young Woman on a Long-Distance Bus) Author: Unknown

The 　　young woman in the Iveco van (

posted by
jong1280 , 2005/12/17 , 6011 words ) **************** ... Actually, the story I'm about to tell happened during the recent National Day holiday … ********** ... The bus was mostly filled with students heading home. Once I settled in, I glanced out the window and saw hundreds more waiting as the bus pulled away. I felt a sense of triumph. Because overloading on passenger buses is strictly enforced during holidays, drivers can only fill the row of temporary folding chairs in the aisle; they dare not pick up even one more passenger before the bus leaves the station. The rain outside seemed to intensify, and darkness gradually fell. The bus wound its way through the city towards the Jinan-Qingdao Expressway. Exhausted from waiting in line, I listlessly closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep. Suddenly, the bus stopped by the roadside, and the driver secretly picked up two more passengers. A man and a woman boarded the bus. I glanced at them lazily, muttering to myself, "This damn driver, he's obsessed with making money ! It's already dark, why isn't he hurrying home? He's still picking up passengers!" The other passengers seemed to share in the driver's frustration, grumbling amongst themselves. The woman who boarded seemed to feel guilty, quickly apologizing and trying to squeeze to the back . When they finally reached my seat, the passengers in the last row noticed their attempt to join them and started yelling, insisting there were no seats left in the back. The two were stuck in the middle of the bus. The woman then approached me in an almost fawning tone , "Young man, could you squeeze in with me? We're both in a hurry to get home, and I think we might even be from the same hometown ?" I then took a closer look at her. She was wearing a beige suit and flesh-colored stockings, a little plump, with short, neat hair. She was fairly attractive, and I guessed she was a young married woman. "Oh," I replied reluctantly, shifting my position as she sat down. What happened next was completely unexpected. She sat down to my left, while the man wasn't so lucky; he stood behind me. The woman seemed a little embarrassed after sitting down and started chatting enthusiastically with me. From her, I learned she was from Jiaozhou, worked alone in Jinan, and had a husband and a three-year-old child at home. I responded to her in a disjointed manner. Because the seats were small, we were squeezed tightly together. Her clothes were a little damp from the rain before boarding, and I could clearly feel the warmth of her body against mine. Perhaps was too tired, because I slumped against the back of the seat in front of me and started to doze off. With the bumps of the bus, my dangling left hand occasionally brushed against hers. Perhaps she thought I was testing her, because suddenly, she grabbed my hand tightly. Then, our hands intertwined tightly, as if she had been deprived of sex for a long and wanted to release it on me, like a female dog in heat coming to my door. Her skin was still quite delicate, her long fingers smooth and soft. I remained leaning against the back of the chair in front of me, afraid to move, afraid that people around us would notice. But I couldn't suppress the restlessness that comes with age. I pulled my other hand from under my forehead and quietly touched her… She seemed to like it and leaned closer to me. My hand went under her bra, smooth and flat. She was a little plump, or so it should be, with the belly of a mother who had given birth. My hand paused there for a moment, drew a few circles with my fingertips, gave it a mischievous pinch, and then struggled to move upwards. Slowly, I licked her smooth, delicate skin with my hand. It felt like a thick tongue licking her buttocks and thighs through her skirt, making her feel itchy and tingly. But I was still worried about being discovered, so I carefully pinched her skin, teasing her body. Just when I could no longer reach forward, she leaned closer to me, and we were now glued together. Suddenly , things took a turn for the better; my hand encountered trouble, beginning its winding ascent. It was her breasts, very large breasts, still so firm despite having nurtured children. I first scratched the small bumps around the peaks, one by one, circling them, but I wasn't in a hurry to provoke the nipple. Like a greedy kitten intently watching two small fish, I pondered how to proceed . Once I could clearly feel her breasts harden and throb as if injected with something, I began to focus on her. I pinched her nipple with my index finger and thumb, rubbing and rotating it back and forth. Simultaneously, my palm and three other hands pressed, kneaded, pinched, rubbed, pulled, and flicked the rest of her breast… In the dim light , I stole a glance at her. Her beautiful face seemed flushed, and her breathing was slightly coquettish and moaning. I could feel her body was limp and devoid of strength, which pleased me greatly, as if I had captured her.

I'd caught my prey.

Slowly, she leaned forward, resting on the back of the seat in front of her, which made it easier for my hands to work.
In fact, my hands were now in the perfect position to directly touch her breasts. I realized my hands
weren't quite enough to grasp those enormous breasts, but I still tried my best to spread my hands out into a bowl shape and gently cup them over her breasts
, supporting them firmly, stroking them softly, and occasionally squeezing them hard.

At this moment, she gripped my left hand tightly as if stimulated. I thought if it were just the two of us, she would
scream. It's a pity there were many other people on the bus, otherwise she definitely would have screamed, and I really enjoy women's low moans and wanton screams when they're
excited . I think that would be very stimulating and give me even more motivation.

But after a short while of groping and probing, the hand I had been using to support her breasts began to move restlessly again: first, my
five fingers gently massaged different areas, then my palm joined in, her nipples
now under my caress. I continued to press my palm, middle finger, ring finger, and little finger against her breasts, while
my thumb and index finger gently pinched and rotated the nipples.

But I wasn't satisfied with that. I forcefully reached for the other breast, pressing my thumb and little finger
against one nipple, while the other three fingers unhesitatingly occupied the cleavage, like three arrows fired simultaneously
, each taking up a favorable position. While the middle three fingers were crawling and protruding in her cleavage, her thumb
and little finger were also tapping away on their respective peaks, as if playing the piano...

At this moment, my left hand, which she was holding tightly, was not idle either, wriggling in and out of her palm. I
imagined her thumb and index finger as two labia, gently rubbing and caressing them between my fingers. I extended
my middle finger , and she understood and clenched it. This time, she didn't clench it too tightly. Then I gently thrust in and out, imitating
the act of making love. My fingers kept thrusting and rotating in and out of her hand. Each time I thrust, she would obediently clench my
finger tightly, just like the contraction of a vagina during lovemaking. Occasionally, I would gently scratch her
palm . Sometimes I would also put two fingers in her hand.

I stole another glance at her and saw that she seemed to be dying of ecstasy, about to faint. Her legs were tightly pressed
together, and I could almost feel streams of fluid flowing from her uterus. Then I pulled out my penis, ready to
enter her. The frighteningly large organ made her feel a slight swelling pain. Then she suddenly looked at me with an
expression cried out, "No, no..."

Imagining all this, I couldn't hold back anymore. I forcefully pulled my left hand back, pulled up my pants, and my penis
was already proudly erect. By this time, the bus had entered the highway, and everyone on the bus had fallen asleep at this steady
speed , except for the poor person behind me who had no seat.

I looked at her, and she seemed to understand. She got up and leaned close to my ear, telling me that I should cover it up, as
the bus was full of fellow villagers going home and it wouldn't be good if others saw it. I smiled and obediently
placed the Qilu Evening News that I was carrying on it. Ha!

The thing was hidden behind a large newspaper like an oil-soaked candle, unable to contain my excitement. She
seemed unable to contain herself any longer. She reached under the newspaper and unzipped my pants, slipping her hand inside.
Then we both leaned against the back of the chair, our heads very close. She gently stroked my
penis , while I caressed her large breasts, fantasizing about us lying naked on the bed
, entwined, having sex.

Thinking about this, I smiled. I never imagined I was like this. Heh, maybe I'd been suppressing myself for too long
, I thought. Then, I completely immersed myself in the pleasure, gently breathing into her ear and deliberately
moaning softly. I thought that would make her feel good. She was completely absorbed, intently masturbating
me. Even though she was only using one hand, I could tell she must have a
superhuman sex drive. Pulling, rubbing, gently pinching, she rubbed my penis back and forth in her hand. I felt like I was flying
. I never knew masturbation could be so pleasurable.

Because I never masturbate normally, although I had a girlfriend and we had sex before,
I've been suppressing it ever since we broke up, unable to release my pent-up emotions. At this moment, she seemed to be reaching her limit too, pulling my
right hand out of her clothes and placing it on her leg. I knew what she wanted me to do, of course. I started
gently tickling her through her stockings. I knew she must be feeling very itchy, desperately wanting my penis inside her vagina,
and to keep going until I brought her to a masochistic climax accompanied by her screams.

Although I wanted that too, it was impossible. So I could only slowly stroke upwards along her leg... cough! It's all because
my arms are too short; after touching the inner thigh, I couldn't go any further. If I wanted to go any deeper, I'd
have to bend over, but that would be noticed. So my hand lingered near the vagina,
circling around . At that moment, she increased the pressure of her masturbation, and I could hear her soft moans in my ear…

Just as she was rubbing my penis back and forth several times per second, I suddenly felt a warm
gush of fluid erupt, spraying onto the newspaper. At that moment, she gripped my penis tightly, not moving an inch.

Just then, the car reached the Zibo section of the highway. Because of roadworks, the car suddenly slowed down,
waking everyone who had been sleeping. They muttered about what was happening. Still dealing with the aftermath
, I could only awkwardly leave my penis lying behind the newspaper.

She seemed quite experienced, so nothing happened. Muttering that she was exhausted, she stood up.
I, startled, hastily withdrew my hand. She stretched, then placed her hands on the back of the seat in front of her,
her lower body pressed tightly against it. I suddenly realized my hand fit perfectly inside.

I glanced around furtively, figuring they wouldn't see anything in the dimly lit carriage.
So, I boldly and slowly slipped my hand under her skirt. She looked down and smiled at me, as if to
encourage .

I secretly rejoiced. My hand snaked up and down her leg, but I wasn't in a hurry to touch her
vulva, even though I knew it was already open to me. I continued
to play Slowly, slowly, I felt her legs begin to clamp my hand tightly, almost immobilizing
it.

Then, I felt a slippery, sticky substance flow onto my hand. I knew the time was right.
I glanced up at her furtively and saw her looking at me with an almost pleading gaze. I was worried about being
noticed for that strange look; I knew that when a woman is aroused, she won't care about anything.

So, I started to move my hand upwards. But I wasn't in a hurry to touch her there. Beyond the flowing spring, my
hand began to gently scratch her pubic hair, searching for something in that dense thicket like a hunter.
Her pubic hair was thick, and occasionally I would tug it slightly, causing her body to tremble slightly.

Sometimes I would gently pinch a strand of pubic hair between my index and middle fingers and play with it; other times I would pull
large clumps with my whole palm. Her lower body was already overflowing; when my hand accidentally touched it, I felt the stream
begin to rise, the water spreading silently, cool and fragrant with wild grass.

So, I smeared some of her vaginal fluid on her pubic hair. Heh heh, she seemed to be unable to bear it any longer. I caught a glimpse of her
looking at me with pleading, hungry eyes. I suddenly realized I couldn't continue like this, because she couldn't stand there
for too long , or someone would notice something was amiss.

So, I moved my hand down, plunging into the overflowing stream of vaginal fluid. My fingers groped for her labia in the flood of
fluid First! Her labia were thick and drooped a little. Maybe that's why—it's
the vagina of someone who's given birth!

I first grasped one labia and rubbed it incessantly, gently pulling and flicking it with my fingers. Then, I touched
the other labia, to be fair! Then, I pinched one labia between my thumb and forefinger, and the other between my forefinger and middle finger
, gently pulling them outwards.

And so my hand swam freely inside, sometimes like a breaststroke, sometimes like a butterfly stroke, splashing water
like a ballet performance. I could almost hear the patter of raindrops on banana leaves, a gentle
accompaniment to this beautiful show, a captivating melody.

By this time, her juices were overflowing. I gently pressed inside with my hand, then used
my middle and ring fingers to separate her already parted labia, while my thumb and forefinger began to soothe her clitoris. I
could feel that her clitoris was hard and swollen, like a small penis.

So I gently pulled on it and softly rubbed it. Yes, sex is not just about intercourse; sometimes,
hand stimulation can be more satisfying than intercourse because it involves many sexual fantasies.

I kept changing the way I masturbated her, while stealing glances at her. She was biting her
lip, feigning pain, and I knew she was at her limit. So I
moved my fingers, which were pressing against her labia, directly to her clitoris, maximizing the arousal of the woman beside me.

Finally, I boldly and decisively inserted my fingers, sliding them in and out, first with one, then
two , three, and finally four. Sometimes I would let my fingers linger inside for a moment, gently probing the soft
flesh. This wave-like thrusting sent her to heaven.

I knew that if it were just the two of us, she would beg me to give in now. Suddenly, her legs clamped
tightly together, as if trying to crush my hand, rendering it immobile. I felt an even greater
torrent flow from her uterus, her vagina contracting incessantly. Yes, she had orgasmed.

I looked up at her, and she smiled and gave me a soft bark, like the joyful moans of someone who had reached orgasm
, completely oblivious to the passengers around her. Slowly, her legs began to loosen, and I carefully
withdrew my hand. She sat down. I looked back and saw that the person standing behind us
was watching us, which made me quite embarrassed.

The bus was still crawling along, and passengers were still grumbling from time to time. I was getting tired, but she
became excited and started chattering in my ear. Of course, I'm not the kind of person who would just lie down and sleep
after sex without taking responsibility. I know that sometimes women need foreplay and afterplay more than the feeling during sex itself, so we started
chatting.

She kept praising me for being so good, and I told her I was just average because it was my instinctive
reaction; I was just going with the flow. Then I asked her casually about
the differences between me and her husband, when she had her first period, when she had her first time having sex,
how , whether she masturbated, and other trivial topics.

Finally, the bus broke through the road maintenance section and started speeding up. My mood improved, so I started
telling her stories about the ancient Chinese Buddha of Bliss, the Confessions of Monica Lewinsky, Madame Bovary,
Japanese cartoons I'd watched, and
the different moans and reactions I'd seen in adult films, and my impressions of Japanese, Western European, and Chinese women during sex, their preferred positions, etc. Sometimes I'd tell her slightly risqué jokes, and she
'd playfully pinch me. ...

It was nearly midnight, a time when things were likely to go wrong, when the bus slowly pulled into Qingdao. I got off before her,
and as I was getting ready to pack my luggage, she took a business card out of her bag and handed it to me, asking me to
contact her when I got back to Jinan. I nodded, grabbed my bag, and got off the bus.

... Actually, it's been quite a while since school started, but I still haven't contacted her because I'm still hesitant
. Perhaps taking the first step is too difficult! But my heart keeps stirring, telling me, I want to!! This is the first
time posted this, and it took a lot of effort, with someone's help, to get it published. This is my true story, not
something I made up. I hope everyone will give me the courage to continue! Thank you! At the same time, I don't want people to think I'm a
despicable person because of this. In reality, I'm probably a shy boy!

[The End]

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[The Young Woman in the Iveco Van] (A Thirsty Young Woman on a Long-Distance Bus) Author: Unknown

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