Three personal bus experiences

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While on a business trip, I bought a lower berth in a soft sleeper compartment. When the door opened, a mature-looking young woman entered, but she didn't seem that old to me. My mind involuntarily conjured up a scenario, and I quickly lowered my head, afraid she'd notice. We struck up a conversation, and she seemed to like me too, since we went to the same university—mine was quite good. That night, I heard her headphones coming from upstairs, so I pretended to be curious and asked what she was watching. She replied that she was watching a movie. Then, I shamelessly asked if we could watch together, meaning I'd just stand next to her. She glanced at me and said, "Sure, come on up."
The girl's meaning was pretty clear. After all, the bed was small, and our legs were practically touching. But I still pretended to watch the screen for a while before getting down to business. There were only the two of us in the compartment, but we were still cautious, both of us huddled under the covers before undressing. While I was undressing, I started groping her, and then without any foreplay, I went straight in. We could hear people chatting in the aisle, and we were both holding our breath during our movements—it was very exciting. Sometimes it would suddenly get quiet outside, so we'd be even more careful, only hearing the sound of the train and our quiet breathing. Later, the blankets would be soaked with sweat, and we'd get up and continue, the blankets falling to the bottom, not caring about covering ourselves anymore. If someone suddenly walked in at that moment, we'd get a real treat.
I even took a few videos as souvenirs, but the lighting was bad, and I couldn't see her face. Later, when I was clearing my phone's storage, I accidentally deleted them, leaving only a few photos of her upper body with her hand covering her face, which I occasionally look at to reminisce.
Another time, in my second year of high school, I took the No. 13 bus from a key high school in Dongcheng District, Beijing, to the audiovisual education center north of Beijing No. 4 High School to record a history lesson. On the way back, I saw a short-haired woman in a white tank top and white hot pants who was quite beautiful, so I deliberately went up to her and rubbed my thigh with the back of my hand. She looked at me, then stopped holding onto me, grabbed my arm, pressed her whole body against me, rested her head on my shoulder, and rubbed her chest against my arm. I don't know what I was thinking back then, but I touched her crotch the whole way, and she rubbed against me the whole way too. But when we got to Dongsi 42nd Street, I got off the train with a red face. I had never really touched a woman before, and her body scent, hair fragrance, body temperature, and that wonderful feeling of our bodies rubbing against each other tormented me for a long time. Before, dating was just for fun, but after that, I started kissing and hugging, and I became more and more lustful. I guess this aunt was the one who led me from my ignorant period into this era of indulgence. In
1998, not long after Hong Kong's return to China, my brother and I took a temporary passenger train to Hong Kong. The train went through the Beijing-Kowloon Railway to Shenzhen, and we took it because we wanted to see the Beijing-Kowloon Railway. I think it was called the Tourist Train No. 11. The tickets were at home, but I couldn't find them... So we transferred to the Hong Kong-Kowloon Railway to Hung Hom. When the train reached Ji'an, Jiangxi, an old farmer was run over and killed. My brother and I were eating in the dining car at the time, and the dead body was right under our feet. I ate while watching the train police pull the dead body out. Everyone in the dining car ran away, except for a little girl from Beijing No. 25 Middle School across from me, who was crying in terror, her legs numb and unable to move. Seeing that her classmates had all run away, I mustered up my courage and went over to hug and comfort her. I remember the train police officer covering the body with a banana leaf, taking off his white gloves, and coming up to get food (his composure was incredibly strong). Seeing that I hadn't left, he even said I was pretty good and that I could consider applying to police academy. Later, I ran into that short-haired girl again when I went to the toilet in the middle of the night. She asked me to go with her, and I was also very brave. Plus, I had a bit of a flirtation after seeing the woman in white on bus number 13, so I took my place in the toilet. Our first time was in the toilet. I remember the panic and guilt I felt when I first saw blood and heard the girl talk about the pain. I didn't feel any excitement or anything; I was just afraid the train police would arrest me. The train kept avoiding other trains, and it took more than three days to get to Shenzhen. It was even slower after Ji'an. We did it again while we were avoiding other trains in the mountains near Meiling. She said it hurt too much and we finished halfway through. We exchanged contact information in Shenzhen, but we never got in touch. It's because Beijing landline numbers had just been upgraded by one digit, and many landline numbers had changed, so we lost contact (young people these days don't encounter this kind of thing, sigh...).

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Three personal bus experiences

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