I met someone on a long-distance bus during the Spring Festival.

I was in charge of the reception work for the banquet. Although I was very reluctant, I had to tell my boyfriend to take the train back first to prepare, while I would take
a long-distance . We agreed that he would pick me up at the station.
The banquet that evening went relatively smoothly; the performances and reception work didn't have any major problems. However, the cleanup work afterwards kept me busy
until after 1 a.m., when I finally dragged my tired body out of the hotel. The next day, I didn't wake up until 9 a.m. Thinking I couldn't be impolite to my boyfriend's house, I quickly
dressed up, hurriedly ate a quick breakfast, and rushed to the long-distance bus station. I arrived at the ticket hall at 11:30 a.m., bought my ticket, and boarded the bus—
perhaps because my body was more sensitive before my period.
I asked the driver and learned that a section of the highway was closed for construction, requiring a detour. What used to be a four-hour journey might now take six hours. The train had only
a few seats, and "2" was one of those bunk beds with two adjacent berths. Between "1" and "2" was an
office lady short-sleeved fitted dress paired with black bodysuit stockings, designed to showcase my perfect figure and unique charm. However, on this kind of
sleeper bus, my attire was extremely inappropriate; all my strengths became weaknesses that could easily lead to wardrobe malfunctions and attract perverts. I carefully looked around the carriage
and realized, "Your hands should quickly separate from my body..." This left room for both sides.
The chairlifts I used to ride in were temporarily replaced with those old-fashioned "2+1" double-decker sleeper buses. The "1" in "2+1" means that there is
an inner berth on the right side of the bus. The single berth on the left side has long been occupied. Although each row of double berths on the right side has two seats, the two seats are right next to each other, and the combined
width is less than 1 meter. Wearing a skirt, I naturally didn't want to squeeze in with strange men, so I walked all the way to the middle and back of the bus. Only then did I realize that
the lower berth was empty. I felt secretly relieved, thinking that the bus would leave at 12 o'clock, and even if I got on later (I'd sit in the front, not the last row to squeeze in with me), I
would sit down in the last row by the window. Two or three passengers suddenly caught up behind me, and seeing there were no single seats, they found empty seats in the front and sat down
. But it was this seemingly clever decision that made my memory of the long-distance sleeper bus unforgettable.
As the bus started moving, a middle-aged man in his forties hurriedly boarded. After glancing around the carriage, he went straight to the last row.
This year, during the Spring Festival holiday, I had planned to accompany my boyfriend by train to visit his parents, but the hotel had arranged a holiday banquet for a large company. Yes, the manager thought
to himself, "This is bad news." He walked up to me and politely asked, "Handsome, is this seat taken?" I had no choice but to shake my head. He smiled and nodded
, placed a large suitcase on the shelf opposite me, and then sat down in the seat next to me. While he was putting down his luggage, I secretly sized him up
. He had dark skin, wore a dark red men's t-shirt tucked into blue jeans, and was reasonably clean, which made me secretly breathe a sigh of relief. Perhaps
due to regular exercise or heavy physical work, he put down the suitcase with ease, and his movements revealed his strong arms and robust
physique, without the typical potbelly of a middle-aged man. However, what made me uncomfortable was that when he lay down in the seat, our shoulders, backs, and
legs inevitably pressed together.
"Langling Qiao'er, you're a college student, right? Are you home for vacation?" The man probably thought I was a college student because I was young and pretty and not wearing much makeup.
I remember blushing and my heart pounding the first time a boy approached me in middle school, but now I'm past my prime and have seen it all
. Although this was the first time a man so much older than me had approached me, I didn't take it too seriously. I just thought he was a bit shameless and had questionable taste. But perhaps out of professional
habit , I smiled slightly at him and politely said, "Brother, you have good taste. I'm home visiting relatives, but I've been working for two years now."
The man, apparently realizing he'd guessed wrong, gave an embarrassed chuckle and said, "Oh..." "Looking at how young you are, I still think you're a student! I run my own business, my home is
here, I'm going to ** city to discuss business." I thought to myself, I didn't even ask you,
yet you're already introducing yourself, not at all shy. But thinking about how mature and sexy I was dressed, and the dress was an office lady style, he still guessed I was a college student, and I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. After that, I politely exchanged a few words with him and then turned my head to look out
the window , ignoring him.
He pressed against my back, then used his whole body to squeeze me into a corner of the bus. I had a bad feeling; he was going to continue to assault me. Indecently, not one...
Half an hour after the bus left the station, it entered the highway, at this time... Seeing the passengers pulling up their curtains, I followed suit
, and the bus gradually darkened. Perhaps because of the dim light, or perhaps because I'd stayed up too late, I felt waves of drowsiness wash over me.
My eyelids grew heavier, and I slowly closed my eyes… I don't know how long I slept, but I was suddenly awakened by an itchy sensation on my inner thigh. In my hazy state, I
vaguely recognized the feeling; it made my heart itch too, like a man's hand… I suddenly snapped back to reality. Wait, this is on a long-distance bus ! It
must be the middle-aged man next to me groping me. I slightly opened my eyes and glanced to the side. Sometime during the journey… The blanket that had been prepared was already placed over me, and the
middle-aged man was groping my body under the thin blanket.
The aisle was narrow. I had a bad feeling. I had deliberately worn a black Korean-style
dress to make a good impression on my boyfriend's family—a dress that made me look beautiful, sexy, and sophisticated. The middle-aged man next to me was lying flat on his seat, pretending to be asleep with his eyes closed, while his left hand, protected by the blanket, was
caressing my inner thigh through my skirt, slowly moving towards my private parts.
His movements were very light and subtle, his fingers rhythmically circling my skirt. His hand was moving gently and lightly, his fingers tracing circles on my skirt. I felt itchy all over from his touch. He seemed very familiar with women's bodies, and immediately found my vulva—how bold! I didn't know what to do
, so I pretended to be asleep for the time being, feeling extremely disgusted and humiliated.
This middle-aged man was cunning; while pretending to be asleep, he slowly caressed my private parts. He placed his palm on my vulva, his middle finger searching for my folds,
while his little finger and thumb were placed on my tender inner thighs… "What should I do?
If I just push his hand away, he might continue to harass me." "If I were to shout 'sexual harassment' loudly, not only would I be embarrassed, but if I angered
him, wouldn't that be bad for me?"
Right, I'll pretend to be asleep first, then squeeze my legs together, and when he tries to pull his hand away, I'll suddenly turn my body inward to escape his clutches. At the same time, I'll let him know that "I've already..."
Thinking of this, I suddenly squeezed my legs together forcefully, intending to startle him and make him remove his hand. However, unexpectedly,
the side of my palm, which was pressing against the flesh of my vulva, was instead firmly pressed against it by the pressure of my legs.
Oh... how could this be...? This man's hand, stuck there, only intensified my physical sensations. My heart started racing, and my private parts became hot.
I tightly gripped his crotch. What surprised me even more was his experience; his caresses were quite skillful. Not only did he not pull away from my body, but his hand
... The middle-aged man saw me suddenly tighten my legs, his rough crotch opening again... My tightening of my legs didn't stop his assault; instead, it made him think my body was aroused by his caresses.
I decided to take further action to stop his assault. I suddenly turned and moved my body towards the inside of the carriage, simultaneously
changing , allowing my private parts to escape his clutches.
My movement seemed to startle the man; his hand stopped moving.
I thought my actions had warned him that he wouldn't violate me again. The middle-aged man turned over, and his strong chest pressed tightly against mine. Then
, he placed one hand on my calf again. Seeing that I didn't resist, he slowly moved my calf and thigh up towards my inner thigh. This time, he was even bolder and actually
put his hand directly under my skirt. His finger slowly moved up my slippery stockings and found the crevice of my vulva again, slowly stroking it.

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I met someone on a long-distance bus during the Spring Festival.

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