My girlfriend's diary: Train trip

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

During my junior year of college, my girlfriend and I took a short summer trip. Unfortunately, it was our first trip, and we hadn't planned the time well, so we ended up on a bus full of students returning home.

When we first boarded, we still had some room to move around. I pulled my girlfriend to the carriage where you could buy a ticket, and we waited outside the conductor's counter at one end of the carriage. I thought we'd get a sleeper ticket quickly, but after several stops, there were no tickets available. I was very frustrated, but my girlfriend comforted me. It was a small detail, but it really touched me.

While we were still in the seating carriage, I was just focused on getting a ticket and didn't really think about anything bad. But later, when I read through my girlfriend's diary, I realized that sometimes bad things don't require me to rack my brains.

I still remember that my girlfriend was wearing a light-colored dress that time, with a round neck that wasn't too low, just revealing a little cleavage, but not too much.

What I love most about this dress is that it only covers half of her thighs. I first saw my girlfriend wearing this dress before we were even together, but I was immediately struck by it and felt a little flutter in my heart.

This short dress is actually quite revealing, but even after she became my girlfriend, I still loved seeing her wear it—of course, it's because of a bit of a quirk.

But are girls so oblivious that they don't realize they're exposing themselves? If they do realize it's easy to expose themselves, why do they still like wearing it? At the next few stops, almost no one got off; I only felt people constantly getting on. Gradually, my girlfriend was squeezed into the seat opposite me, forced to stand ramrod straight against the table edge.

Looking at her like that, I felt sorry for her. Just then, the carriage announcement came on: finally, we could buy tickets and upgrade to sleeper berths! Luckily, I had stayed by the platform the whole time. Even in such a crowded carriage, people would suddenly appear out of nowhere, shouting that they needed to buy tickets immediately.

Unfortunately, although I was first, I was completely pinned down by several guys behind me, unable to move at all, only able to clutch my money and stretch out my hand—the train attendant hadn't even arrived yet, why were you all pushing and shoving? What I didn't expect at the time was that my girlfriend was once again groped by someone.

This was an unpleasant experience for her, but she recorded it in her diary, even in great detail.

The announcement about starting to buy tickets had just finished when the number of passengers in our carriage surged again, especially at our end.

My girlfriend's standing spot was also affected by the crowd, and she suddenly fell onto the lap of a passenger next to her, while her previous standing spot was taken by another person.

This made my girlfriend very embarrassed; she wanted to get up but had nowhere to stand, so she had to repeatedly apologize and continue sitting on that passenger's lap.

The gentleman, however, smiled and said it was alright, there were just too many people.

At first, my girlfriend thought she had met a kind person, but gradually she felt something was wrong.

The gentleman was wearing suit shorts, and his leg hair was quite thick, making my girlfriend feel very itchy and uncomfortable.

But with such a fragrant and beautiful woman sitting on him, how many normal men wouldn't react? The girlfriend quickly realized that the man sitting there had a physical reaction, and his penis was erect under her buttocks.

At this point, the diary had already started calling this man a "pervert."

If it were just because of this physical reaction, I would think he was quite wronged.

But the girlfriend's diary also recorded his next action—while everyone's attention was on the ticket counter, he put his hand under her skirt. The girlfriend instinctively trembled all over, almost wanting to jump up.

However, in that situation, the girlfriend couldn't move at all and could only let the man continue his lewd behavior.

At first, his hands were just stroking the sides of her thighs, then slowly moving up her thighs, and then he went a step further, using his thumbs to lift the edge of her panties, and the other four fingers of his hands to touch the inside of her thighs.

The girlfriend couldn't bear it anymore, but she could only say half a "You!" before she couldn't say anything more.

She wanted to scold the pervert, but he noticed her intentions and had already pulled her panties aside under her skirt, one of his middle fingers already inside her vagina.

Her face flushed red, but she dared not make a sound, and could only let him continue his assault.

The pervert's technique was skillful. Although he couldn't make large movements due to the environment, even the slight thrusting of his fingers was enough to make her let out soft moans.

She grabbed his wrist through her skirt, but he retaliated with even more intense stimulation, inserting both his middle fingers into her vagina and teasing her already erect clitoris with his thumbs.

This stimulation caused her to lose strength and lean against him.

This uncontrollable leaning immediately exposed her condition, and the passengers to her left, right, and opposite her stared wide-eyed. This action, however, made the pervert frighten, and he immediately withdrew his fingers and stopped holding her tightly.

It was at this moment that I finally managed to break free from the crowd.

I had always thought this incident would leave a glorious impression, after all, securing a sleeper ticket among so many competitors is no easy feat.

I never imagined my girlfriend's diary would portray me as a "bad guy." It's as if she deliberately left her there to be violated.

Perhaps that's true in most cases, but not that time, which makes me feel both regretful and wronged.

Every time I read passages like these in my girlfriend's diary, I often wonder, when she was writing these things, recalling how she was ruthlessly violated by a stranger, yet her body was uncontrollably stimulated to the point of being unable to resist, even her vagina was aroused and overflowing—during these recollections, was she also experiencing a second violation, the difference being that this second violation was inflicted on her by her own memories?

[The End]

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