Traveling in the night

From childhood to adulthood, I've experienced being taken advantage of many times—touched and groped; sometimes in cars, sometimes
in dance halls; and sometimes even by acquaintances who took advantage of me when I was drunk.

At first, I was scared and would hide. If it went too far, I'd secretly poke him or step on his foot. Later, I
started paying attention to the man's appearance and glaring at him. In short, these men who took advantage of me, whether
they were inherently filthy or had something to hide, all had ugly faces and contorted features. With
more experience, I became less lenient and taught them a lesson; in public, they didn't dare scream, feeling
quite pleased with themselves.

Sometimes, when I saw children or young boys doing this, I'd think they'd never seen a woman before and give them a stern look to intimidate them
; of course, if I was in a good mood, I'd let them touch me.

These things happened because of the circumstances; I had no choice but to endure it. There was no
pleasure in it; it was all voluntary cooperation. But there was one time when I willingly, even with a sense of longing, that feeling lingered
in my mind, haunting me in quiet moments of solitude, where I could fantasize about making love, so stimulating that I couldn't
sleep.

Here's what happened: A close friend from university, after three years of working, called to say she was getting married.
She came from the countryside and went back to her hometown after graduation, working in a prefecture-level city there.
The only way to get there was by bus, as there was no train line.

I went to the station to inquire; there were daytime buses and overnight sleeper buses. I'd never ridden a sleeper bus before,
so I was excited, thinking I could sleep until dawn and then have some fun during the day. But

once on the bus, I regretted it immediately. The carriage reeked of foot odor, and my seat was in the back, an upper berth,
where the smell was even worse. I wanted to get a refund, but there were no hard-seat overnight buses available, so I had to talk to the driver and pay an extra thirty
yuan to move to a lower berth in the middle of the front.

It was very hot, and the air-conditioned bus didn't have any windows that could be opened. Everyone was waiting downstairs. I didn't know why, so I asked the driver why
the air conditioning wasn't on. He said it was a waste to turn it on now, but it would be on when we started moving, and it would be cold then. He then
suggested that since there were no other passengers, I could pick out a clean blanket.

I was grateful and rummaged through a stack of blankets, finding a slightly cleaner one and putting it on my berth before getting off
to wait.

At nine o'clock at night, the bus left the station, stopping and starting intermittently. The ticket collector even got off to argue with some people, then continued to dawdle
. Finally, just before leaving the city, two college-aged men boarded. Because all the berths on the bus
had been sold out at the station according to regulations, the driver somehow managed to get two small folding stools for them, and they
sat on them in the narrow aisle.

The bus started moving again, this time at a faster pace. The two of them sat one behind the other, talking, right next to me. I thought, "
If I have to spend the whole night like this, I'll be exhausted."

Not long after we started running, the car slowed down again. The driver turned around and shouted to the two students, "Get down, get down,
we're checking!"

The two didn't react at first, thinking he was talking to them, and scrambled down, climbing on top of me
. The one in the back was practically lying on my chest. The sudden turn of events startled me, and I didn't dare move, resigned to my fate,
waiting for someone to come up and drag me off to be shot.

Actually, no one came up to check; the doors didn't even open. After the car started moving again, I overheard the driver and ticket collector talking;
it seemed the inspector had only peeked through the window and let us through.

After leaving the checkpoint, the two men finally stood up. The boy in the back, realizing his recklessness, blushed
and awkwardly said, "Sorry, I was in such a rush..."

He was quite handsome, and seeing him almost stuttering, I wanted to laugh, so I said, "It's okay, you scared me
!"

The car sped forward, and the driver turned on the TV, playing some terrible music—all four channels were playing simultaneously, one after another, making quite a racket
. There was an old man behind me with a TV right in front of him. He was making so much noise, getting up and lying down repeatedly. The two students couldn't stand
it anymore, so someone in front got up and told the driver to turn it off.

Actually, it wasn't necessary. These days, older people need quiet on buses, and what young person doesn't have a cell phone? And what cell
phone doesn't have an MP3 or MP4 player? Sure enough, as soon as the TV was turned off, everyone put on their headphones. The two students
were examining their phones, and I took out mine to listen to music. I listen to these songs all the time. Plus, with
the air conditioning running after the bus started, it wasn't hot and didn't seem to smell too bad, so I fell asleep amidst the swaying.

I slept until the bus stopped, and when I checked my phone, it was 11:30.

The driver called out for people to get off for lunch. I wasn't hungry, but I needed to pee, so I took my shoes out of the plastic bag the driver gave me
, put them on, and got off with everyone else.

I didn't know where I was. There were several large sleeper buses like ours parked there, people were wandering around,
but not many went into the restaurants nearby. I looked around aimlessly and saw someone walking towards the left intersection, so I followed a woman
. Sure enough, there was a sign on the wall that said "Toilet," with an arrow pointing inside. After

using the toilet, I grilled a few skewers of meat nearby and ate them before getting back on the bus, lying down, and continuing to listen to music.

Half an hour later, people started boarding. Before I could even settle down, the bus started moving, and the lights outside the window gradually
thinned, plunging into complete darkness, with only the occasional headlights of passing cars flashing by.

I couldn't sleep, and my eyes darted around as I listened to the music. One of the two students was playing on his phone, while the one behind me
was dozing off against the railing behind my head. I glanced at the berths on either side; there was a man on my left and an older
woman on my right—no wonder they were both leaning against me.

When the boy in front of me stretched and prepared to put away his phone, I
suddenly felt a connection with him because he had reminded the driver to turn off the TV earlier, and I wanted to talk to him. So I asked to borrow his phone and asked what game he was playing. He said he was
playing a downloaded movie and handed it to me.

It was a comedy, and I put on my headphones to watch it. He started to imitate his friend, leaning back to sleep. I got up
and tugged at him, pointing to my feet, indicating he could sleep on his stomach. He was grateful and tried to
lean over my calves, which were covered by the blanket.

At that moment, I couldn't hear anything, but I saw the boy next to my head secretly kicking his friend who was sleeping on my lap.
The other one was still pretending not to move; I was confused, so I took off my headphones and looked back at him. He immediately started pretending to sleep again, and then
I realized he was teasing his companion. I felt a little embarrassed, my face flushed.

This wasn't a solution; it was too uncomfortable. So I moved my legs to get the boy up, and then tried to
move to the other side to make room for them both to crawl on top of each other. They both realized this and kept whispering,
"No need, you can sleep, it's fine."

I tried a few times, but it really didn't work. Unless I put my legs on the ground, or moved a little space so they could crawl
on top of each other with their heads touching, it was still awkward. Just as we were being so polite, the boy in front of me said his companion could go to the other side of the aisle
and crawl on top of him.

That was a great idea, I agreed. He groped his way over from the front, and I pulled my skirt up under the covers
, then covered myself with the blanket and let them crawl on my calves.

Sleeping head to head, they were mutually restraining each other; if we shifted, one of them would hug my legs, and the other would be too high up. After they settled down like that
, I felt awkward. First, I couldn't move my feet. I never usually pay attention to whether my feet need to move when I sleep, but now they
were itchy, either in the soles or in my toes, and they were also very hot. I wanted to move but didn't dare.
The hand of the boy clinging to me seemed to be reaching my thigh, and with every bump of the car, I worried he was deliberately touching me. I

couldn't concentrate on the movie anymore; my mind started racing. I turned it off, woke the boy up, and gave
it back to him. I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, and after a while, I fell asleep. I lay there in a daze

for a long time, still unable to sleep. The car was bumping, and they were moving up and down on my legs. My heart
was itching. Using the flashing headlights of passing cars, I could see the boy's face in front of me; he was sleeping soundly with his eyes closed
, and he looked very handsome. I just waited idly for the light to come on.

A long time passed, and after another bump, I felt a hand slip under the covers. My heart
jumped, and I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to sleep; I could hear my own heart pounding.

The hand slowly crept up my leg with the swaying of the car, as if it were being jolted up by the bumps. My mind
was completely focused on that leg, oblivious to the flashing lights and the roar of the engine. My eyes were
so tightly closed they ached.

The hand reached my kneecap, then stopped, gently kneading it, as my body couldn't move any further. I
felt a little relieved and quietly breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing my nerves.

Just then, a big jolt shook me, and he rose with it, landing on my thigh. My
heart tensed again with the movement of his hand. My thigh muscles were so sensitive; the tension was accompanied by an unbearable itch
.

His hand, like a snake, seized the opportunity of the swaying to slip between my legs. After a few swaying motions, his
hand was fully inside, grasping the soft flesh of my inner thigh as if it were his own.

His hands were sweating, and my legs seemed to be sweating too. He sensed it and tentatively
moved upwards. I don't know what I was thinking at the time, but I took advantage of the bumpy ride to spread my legs.

To be honest, he was handsome and I liked him. I wouldn't resist if he touched me, but I've never done anything like this before,
always giving people space. As soon as I spread my legs, I worried he would touch me, touch my private parts, and tension
surged up from the bottom of my heart again.

Later, I realized that my action of spreading my legs might actually be a signal to him, a signal that no man
would let me go again.

This guy turned his head behind him and rested it on his arm outside, moving his body even higher. His
elbow was almost touching my genitals with the swaying of the car. His hand below became even bolder, tentatively pausing
before moving to my genitals, his fingers touching the muscles of my thigh at the base.

Excitement increasingly overwhelmed my tension. I wanted to spread my legs wider, but the guy below was holding my
legs. And so, as his fingers carefully played with my waistband, I unconsciously bent my legs into
an O-shape.

His hand trembled noticeably, pausing for a moment before continuing, his fingers gently teasing the outside of my waistband
, making me want to move, to ease the discomfort, but I was too nervous to move.

He started to lift my waistband from the side, his fingers touching my vulva, it felt like an electric shock. I involuntarily
trembled. Before he could even separate and touch my opening, I felt something gushing out, like the
heaviest flow during my period. I thought, "Oh no, could it be my period?" Then I remembered I just finished a few days ago, how could it be?
What was that? I was wet and horny, but I didn't feel this way. It's not like I've never had sex before.

His hand was no longer restrained, stroking up and down, his wet fingers searching for an opening.
Excitement pulled me back, my buttocks began to rub, desperately wanting him to put his penis inside me.

He penetrated me, and I couldn't control myself anymore. I reached out and grabbed his
arm, which was resting on my genitals and pretending to be asleep, holding on tightly.

By this point, things had clearly changed. He got up, looked around, and
pulled his buttocks and the stool that were still in front of me towards me, trying to climb onto my chest and continue pretending. I ignored him and pulled his arm straight towards my head. He seemed
to understand, looked around again, and then suddenly lowered his head and kissed me.

I was too eager, I didn't have that strong a desire, I just stuck out my tongue and let him suck it, feeling that it was superfluous, that I would feel
uncomfortable if I didn't let him have it. His hand never left my genitals, it was still inside me.

He sucked my tongue a few times, then pulled away, he was worried, he looked around, and then came down to suck it again. I was in so much pain that I
wanted to stretch my legs up and bend them so that he could go in more, so I started to pull my legs away. The boy behind me was woken up by the pulling, but
I didn't care about him anymore.

The climax was coming, it was coming, push, push, I almost cried out. But just then, he
stopped, took his hand out, and swung it around in the air.

His fingers were so tired, he whispered to me, "They're so sore!"

I wasn't about to let him have his way, and I still wanted to hug his neck, when suddenly I felt a cold hand trembling and touching me there. I
immediately reached out and grabbed it, pulling it down.

It finally opened up again, and my underwear was chafed raw by his fingers as they went in. I reached in,
lifted my buttocks, and pulled it down to my legs.

This guy in front of me didn't kiss me properly, always just giving me a quick kiss and then looking up. Thankfully, he started putting his hand inside.
He touched my breasts, and I lifted my short-sleeved shirt from my stomach, letting him put his hand inside. He touched me through my bra.

My feet were also being held and squeezed, and in this midst of the double penetration, I climaxed.

I gritted my teeth, enduring the pleasure, letting it last for a long time.

The climax subsided, it was over, but the guy below was still thrusting hard. I was covered in sweat, and embarrassed,
I responded to the guy in front, who kept leaning down to kiss me.

When he leaned down again, I whispered to him that I remembered, it was very hot. I saw him nudge
his partner through my body, and his partner took his hand away and sat up straight.

I took the bag from under my pillow, tore some toilet paper, wiped myself under the covers, put on my underwear,
and got up to sit on the bed.

Everyone was silent. The guy in front was looking at the road ahead, and the guy behind was sitting upright, looking out the window.
I kicked off the covers, feeling incredibly cool and comfortable.

Sitting like this was uncomfortable, so I nudged the boy next to me and whispered, "You two take turns sleeping for a while,
I'll get down and sit for a bit."

He shook his head vigorously, saying, "No need, this is fine, this is fine."

I shoved the boy in front of me with my foot and pointed to the bed, but he shook his head too.

This was truly wonderful—dark, shameless, and so enjoyable. I was genuinely grateful to them.
Since they weren't resting, I felt awkward sleeping, so I half-leaned and held the boy next to me's hand, reminiscing about the madness of just now.

He played with my hand with his fingers, and after a while, he became restless, pulling me towards him
. I didn't refuse, but I couldn't reach it, so I lay down with his hand.

He half-turned to his side and unzipped his pants, and I felt a hard penis tucked up
against my stomach by his pants. I pulled it out immediately. He quickly put his hand on the edge of the bed to block the light from his face.

No mature woman dislikes a hard penis, so I held it and started thinking about it again. My body
stirred, and various desires surged within me. I kicked the boy sitting upright in front of me with my toe. He turned around, and
before I could say anything, his companion gestured to him in the darkness.

Understanding, he began to move the chair around, until it was at my thighs. He then reached his hand under the covers from behind. I
pulled down my pants again, pushed myself all the way back under the covers, and turned to the side, trying to make my buttocks as close to his as possible. He started touching
my buttocks and my genitals. My pleasure gradually surged, and I wanted to suck on the penis I was holding.

I turned my head outwards, trying to reach him, but I couldn't reach it. He moved the chair around, facing backwards, and
sat down. I tried again, but it was still inconvenient. Finally, he reversed the position, stretching his legs out under the bed
and getting as close to the edge as possible. I could finally take it in my mouth.

It was hot, and I don't know if it was from being covered up or from him not being clean, but he smelled a bit pungent. But by then I was already in a
rage, and I felt bad if I didn't continue, so I started giving him oral sex.

While I was giving him oral sex, he was looking ahead, glancing at people while touching my breasts, and his fingers were already inside my anus, playing with them . It felt so
good that I worked even harder.

After a few thrusts, he ejaculated, all of it into my mouth. I felt him ejaculate and wanted to open my mouth, but I was afraid
of getting it on his pants, so I just kept it all inside.

After he finished, I pursed my lips to prevent the semen from leaking out, and then slowly spat out his penis.
It didn't feel right where it landed, so he helped me find something, and even though the hand inside me was making me uncomfortable and I wanted to open my mouth, he suddenly remembered
my toilet paper. He pulled my bag out from under the pillow, and I took some, spat it out, rolled it into a ball, and put it on the floor under the
bed.

He was quite considerate; he was satisfied with himself but didn't forget his partner. When I finished and lay down to enjoy myself, he carried
a stool to the front and pulled his partner aside to whisper something.

The boy stopped what he was doing and started moving his chair towards me. I understood what they meant, but
the oral sex I'd just experienced was too uncomfortable. As he sat down in front of me, I sat up and said, "You sit on the bed, I'll rest my head
on your lap."

He hesitated for a moment, then got up. I glanced at the sleeping passengers around us and the driver focused on driving ahead
, then got up to make room for him.

I handed the pillow and bag to the boy at my feet, and he understood, placing them beside me. This way, his companion
could sit down completely. I rested my head on his lap and started unzipping his zipper. He was much more obedient than the other boy; his
hands were trembling the whole time, and he was worried my head was uncomfortable, so he gently supported it with one hand.

I unzipped it, and he fumbled around to pull it out himself—it was huge, surprisingly large. I played with it in my hand,
looked up at him, and laughed. He turned his face away in embarrassment.

I ate it all, and after taking in half, I started to masturbate. My whole body started to heat up again, thinking
about how good it would feel to have this thing inside me, but I wondered if it would hurt.

The guy was enjoying himself and stopped touching me properly, just looking around aimlessly. I kicked him
, and he finally put his hand inside.

The stimulation above was intense, and with something inside me, my pleasure nerves quickly
started throbbing like little rabbits.

Suddenly, my head was pressed down tightly, and my hand was pulled away from my buttocks. Only then
did I realize from the flashing lights that someone was coming out from behind him.

I felt the person reach the bus door, and the bus stopped. I tried to get away from his huge penis, I was really
horny, but he kept holding me down and started pulling the blanket over my head.

I heard people getting up, putting on their shoes, and getting off the bus. The boy in front also got off, and then others started
to get off. People who had finished urinating got back on, and to make matters worse, the driver turned on the headlights. I
buried my face in his lower abdomen as much as possible, but his thick, hard penis didn't soften, making me gasp for air through my nose.

Just at this most unbearable moment, this spineless guy started to ejaculate. I felt his penis
begin to tremble, and I knew something was wrong. I forcefully spat out the penis stuck inside and tried to force the thick, hot liquid
down my throat. I choked, pushed him away, and when his penis pulled out a little, my tongue could move again, so I contracted
my throat and swallowed it.

It was the first time I had ever swallowed semen, and in this environment, I swallowed it all.

As his penis slowly softened, I felt much better and just lay there

, waiting for the bus to start moving. Only after everyone had settled into their bunks did we slowly separate. I pretended to wake up and asked
where the two of them were, then got up to drink water to wash away the fishy taste of semen from my mouth. He, under my cover
, put on his clothes and got up to sit down.

The man in the bunk to my left got up to use the toilet, staring at me strangely. I pretended not to see him, sat up, and
offered to let the two boys take turns sleeping. They politely declined, refusing to sleep. So I took one of the boys' phones
and started watching a movie.

The two boys, one in front of the other, leaned against the railing and started to sleep, probably pretending too.

After a while, I got bored, my eyelids started to droop, so I gave it back and lay down to sleep.

This time I really fell asleep, soundly and horribly, then woke up. Turns out, the guy was still secretly touching me; both of their hands
were down there. Looking around, everyone seemed asleep, so I ignored them and let them play with me. Stealing

is always the most satisfying thing, and now that I was letting them touch me, even though I was still wet and a little horny, I
didn't feel any sign of climaxing. Their hands were playing around half-heartedly, touching my belly, fiddling with my vulva
, occasionally inserting a little.

This feeling was good too; lying there enjoying it, I slowly drifted off to sleep again.

I slept so soundly that I didn't wake up until dawn, when the light became too bright. I didn't even notice when the two students next to me got off the bus
; their folding chairs were all folded up.

I touched myself down there; my buttocks were wet, and my skirt was wet too. I realized I hadn't put on any underwear, so I quickly
crawled to my feet to look. Nothing, not even under the covers or my skirt. Too embarrassed to make a sound, I pulled up my skirt, got up, and sat on
the edge of the bed to fix my hair.

The bus continued to sway for over an hour before we arrived at our destination. During this time, the man in the next bed also got up and
kept secretly watching me. I turned away, thinking about what had happened that night, and my face started to burn.

After getting off the train, I wandered around the station, letting the wind blow my skirt around.
It took me ages to call my friend. Twenty minutes later, she and her boyfriend came to pick me up in a taxi.

In the car, my friend, whom I hadn't seen in years, was naturally overjoyed. Happy memories of school flooded back, and
the events of the journey under the night sky vanished instantly, leaving no trace.

...

Now, thinking back to that trip, I often fantasize about it when I'm lonely and in need. Sometimes I
fantasize about making love on the train, sometimes in bed; but no matter where I am, all I can think of is
the face of the boy who kissed me and another's large penis. When they become blurry, I piece them together into one person,
and then I indulge in a moment of ecstasy.

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Traveling in the night

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