Sister on the bus

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

When I was in high school, I commuted to school by bus. Back then, there wasn't a special student bus
service on my local line, so I took regular buses. Since they were regular buses, of course, other commuters also rode them
. And the buses I took had seats like on a train, row upon row with an aisle in the middle.
They were usually incredibly crowded during the morning rush hour. My school was good, and I was relatively well-mannered—at least not
too unpleasant! So these external factors were my best cover.
You might think I'm a lecherous pervert, but you'd be wrong! I
wasn't really interested in girls my own age; usually, I was the one being pursued by them! I was actually quite attracted to mature
working men.
Among the many women waiting at the bus stop, I admired a middle-aged woman who worked a regular job. She was elegant and
well-dressed. She was always accompanied by someone on a motorcycle to the bus stop. Judging from the way she was holding that person, I assumed he
was either her boyfriend or husband. Initially, I didn't have any particular intentions towards her; I just enjoyed
seeing her, and consequently, I paid attention to her demeanor and clothing.
One day, when boarding the bus, everyone was usually pushing and shoving without queuing. Unfortunately, I was in front of her.
Because of the crowd, everyone pushed forward, and naturally, she was forced to push against me. I don't know what happened, but suddenly
all my attention was focused on my back. She was holding a purse in one hand, her fingers pressing against my buttocks
, and in the other hand, she was holding her ticket against my shoulder. I guessed she was protecting her chest.
Suddenly, a woman's hand pressed against my buttocks, and the friction from the pushing and rubbing aroused my
desire. I could have easily dodged her, but I didn't want to miss the opportunity. On a whim, I
turned sharply and glared at her, then my gaze swept over her hand holding her purse… She realized what I meant; clearly
, she felt embarrassed.
Once on the bus, I found a chance to block her path, standing face-to-face. I deliberately acted very unhappy,
staring at her brazenly, while she shyly and awkwardly lowered her head. Then, as more and more people boarded
, the distance between us increased until we were practically touching. I guess it was psychological?
Her previous protective posture vanished. She let go of her handbag, only gripping the shoulder strap, while
my hand, holding the backpack, pressed against her lower abdomen. With the swaying of the vehicle, the back of my hand rubbed against her lower
abdomen.
I felt incredibly guilty, yet also incredibly comfortable! Her only reaction was to turn her flushed face away. People say, "Give her
an inch, and she'll take a mile!" I even stretched out my fingers, directly rubbing the hollow of her lower abdomen. I was actually more nervous than excited
! Honestly, I didn't feel anything, and it wasn't as outrageous as described in typical adult books! But I'm certain of
one thing: she was genuinely shy, not faking it!
Since I got off the bus before her, before I got off, taking advantage of the crowd, I secretly spread
my hand behind my back and stroked her buttocks piece by piece, using my backpack as cover. I could feel
the line formed by the edge of her underwear and her buttocks, and the contours of her buttocks. Wow! It felt so good!! I was immersed in this
feeling all day!
The next day, when I saw her again, we were both a little embarrassed, and I didn't want to look at her. When the bus
arrived, I bravely squeezed on and managed to get a seat. She was slower, and by the time she got on, there were no seats left
! She was standing only one row away from my seat, so I could see her. I noticed her gaze
was also on me, thankfully without any malice! So I started
focusing my gentle, yet not overtly offensive, gaze on her. After one ride, she seemed flustered and uncomfortable!
For the next few days, I continued to search for her gaze on the bus, and I think she got used to it
. One day, I deliberately tried to tease her. When I knew she was standing nearby, I didn't look at her
once until I was about to get off, when I caught a glimpse of her looking at me with a questioning gaze. Ha! She still
cared quite a bit!
Then one evening after school, I was surprised to see her on the bus.
There weren't many people on the bus, and there were still empty seats, but I still walked over and stood next to her. The window
seat next to her was empty. Seeing me standing still for a while, she moved to a seat by the window. I still didn't move.
She probably felt a bit embarrassed, so she tilted her head to look at me, then patted the chair, gesturing for me to sit down
. I sat down without hesitation.
The seats weren't big, so we were close together. Actually, I did it on purpose. I put my backpack on my lap, and my hand
casually moved between her thighs and mine, slowly caressing her stockinged thighs. She kept pressing her legs
together and crossing them. Finally, she probably couldn't take it anymore and grabbed my hand. At that point,
I had no choice but to obediently put my hand down. I saw her face flushed, her neck thick with breath, glaring at me, but her eyes held a hint
of ambiguity.
Then I reached my hand behind her back and started fiddling with her bra straps. She twisted and
turned, trying to avoid me. I then tried to unhook the back of her bra, which terrified her! She whispered, "
Don't go too far!"
I said guiltily, "I didn't!" At the same time, I crossed my arms over my chest and, under the cover of my arms,
touched the cups of her bra with my fingers. Even through the bra, I could still feel the softness of her breasts.
Although I had touched my older sister's breasts before, this was the first time for an outsider, and it felt both new
and nerve-wracking. Of course, I longed to have my hands on her breasts. I thought for a moment, then pretended to open the car
window. I stood up slightly to do so, and as I opened the window with one hand, my other hand slipped inside and grabbed one of her
breasts. I felt incredibly good! She nervously adjusted her shirt, trying to avoid being seen.
I understood her anxiety; anyway, I had achieved my goal, and a smug smile crept onto my lips.
She gasped, "You're so bold! How could you do this..."
I maintained my smug smile and didn't say anything more. We were almost at our stop anyway. Just as I was about to get off the bus
, I whispered in her ear, "I want your underwear!"
She seemed a little flustered and said, "Say that again!"
I said, "Or you can't wear underwear tomorrow!"
She got angry: "You still dare to say that!!" Then she turned her face to the window and ignored me.
She didn't get off the bus, I don't know why, but I went home with a triumphant smile.
The next morning, while waiting for the bus, she had a tense expression and ignored me, and she still ignored me after getting on the bus. I carefully examined her skirt,
trying to find traces of her underwear. Ah! What a letdown, she was wearing underwear! But when I was about to get off the bus, she handed me
a plastic bag from a 7-Eleven. I was so nervous!
When we got to a quiet spot on campus, I took it out and looked at it—it was a pair of pinkish-purple briefs! It was conservatively styled,
washed, so it smelled nice. There was also a note that read: "Damn it! Pervert!"
Throughout the day, I ran to the toilet almost every break between classes. What exactly (inappropriate language, so censored) did? You can imagine!
After school, I tried to get to my bus stop before her and waited for her. After a long wait, she finally got off the bus. She
looked at me with some surprise, then gave me a mischievous and playful smile and said, "Can your mom wear this?" I said,
"Sister, stop joking!" Then we slowly started chatting haphazardly.
Then she said she needed to take another bus home, and I playfully teased her, saying, "I want the one you're wearing
!" She said, "Stop it! We're outside, how can you?" I pointed to the gas station across the street,
and she looked at it for a while, then said, "Wait a minute!" She crossed the street to the gas station's restroom.
About 7 or 8 minutes later, I watched her come back. Haha! The way she walked was so strange; even though there was no
wind, she was still holding onto the hem of her skirt, and her feet were still turned inward. When she handed it to me, she said, "It's not washed, it's not clean!"
But I noticed she was still wearing stockings, so I asked her, "You're still wearing stockings! How did you take them off?" She said,
"None of your business!" and even hit me on the head!
Then she said she was going home and told me not to follow her, or I'd never see her again. I asked her
for her phone number, but she refused; however, she did write mine down.
That night, she called and we talked for a long time. She was very interested in my relationship with my older sister. She said her
younger brother, who was in elementary school, would go through her underwear after she changed out of the bathroom, which scared him so much that he hung his own underwear to dry in his room
…
From then on, we would chat naturally every morning, seemingly like siblings, but actually,
our conversations were all rather explicit. We had a serious discussion about our relationship, and we both agreed that it was
a way (an excuse) to relieve the pressure of life.
About a month before my university entrance exams, she said she was getting a job transfer soon and wouldn't have many opportunities
to see me anymore. I nervously arranged to meet her at the bus stop. After we met, we talked for a long time. I asked her
to come to the hotel with me, but she refused no matter how much I pleaded, not even for a cup of coffee. I remember
begging her with tears in my eyes. In the end, she only agreed to give me another pair of underwear, and then we went to the gas station across the street together.
I asked to go in with her, but she refused at first. I mentioned my older sister's example, and it actually worked!
She agreed! Then we were busy choosing whether to go into the men's or women's restroom. We finally chose the men's restroom because there were two stalls
, and men mostly use the restrooms to urinate, so they use the stalls less often, making it safer and cleaner.
Once inside, she lifted her skirt and let me take it off myself. She was wearing pure white panties, still quite conservative
. When I took off her panties, I noticed she had very little pubic hair. I wanted to touch her labia, but she refused
. She whispered that she was still a virgin and could only look, not touch. Actually, I touched her several
times during the struggle, but she couldn't accept my caresses.
After taking her panties, I hugged her tightly, rubbing my face against her breasts. She held my
head tenderly and said, "Is it like this with your sister too?" I nodded, then slipped my hand inside her t-shirt,
caressing her bra. When I reached the back clasp, I opened it when she wasn't looking!
She didn't expect me to take off her bra, and she started to struggle! Just then, someone came in to relieve themselves, and she didn't dare
make a sound. I became even more brazen in rubbing her breasts.
Her breasts were similar to my older sister's, but my older sister's nipples were a lighter color. I saw her brows furrowed
, looking both excited and distressed. I also put her nipple in my mouth, and I couldn't help but think of my older sister's nipples.
I really missed them! So I cherished this opportunity.
While licking and sucking her nipples, I also stroked her genitals with my hand until her legs went weak...
After I had licked enough, I considerately helped her fasten her bra and pull up her t-shirt. At this moment, she leaned against the wall, panting, looking at
me. I didn't know if she had an orgasm. Still
not satisfied, I took out my penis and asked her to hold it. She didn't dare to look, but just closed her eyes and held
it. I grabbed her hand and guided her to masturbate me. Because we were both very nervous, I ejaculated not long after
!
After tidying up and making sure no one else came in, we "escaped" the gas station as quickly as possible! Then, very
tacitly, we left one on each side! That night, I was in a terrible mood. I kept masturbating with those two pairs of underwear
until I was completely exhausted and fell asleep.
The next day was the last time I saw her. While waiting for the bus, she told me that she was getting married
and moving to Nantou. She was going to handle the handover ceremony that day… I just listened, suppressing my reluctance,
without saying anything. Unexpectedly, she told me in a very low voice, “I’m not wearing any underwear today… and from now on, whenever
I think of you, I’ll do this…” (This is probably why I often asked my wife to go out without underwear afterward
!)

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