Traveling in the night

From
childhood to adulthood, I've experienced countless instances of being taken advantage of, touched, and groped. Sometimes it happened on buses, sometimes in dance halls; sometimes even acquaintances would do it, taking advantage of me when I was drunk.
At first, I was scared and would hide. If it went too far, I'd secretly poke them or step on their feet. Later, I'd also pay attention to the man's appearance and glare at him. In short, these men who took advantage of me, whether they were inherently filthy or had something to hide, always had ugly faces and contorted expressions. With more experience, I would teach them a lesson without hesitation; in public, they wouldn't dare to scream, feeling quite pleased with themselves.
Sometimes, when I encountered 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 them. There was no pleasure in it; it was all voluntary cooperation. But there was one time, a time when I willingly and with longing lingered in my mind, a feeling that haunted me. In quiet moments, I could even fantasize about making love, the excitement keeping me awake.
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, and I was excited. Besides, I could sleep until dawn, and then have some fun during the day. But
once on the bus, I regretted it. The carriage reeked of foot odor, and my seat was in the back, an upper berth, where the smell was even worse. I wanted 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 they weren't turning on the air conditioning. He said it would be a waste to turn it on now, but it would be cold when they started moving. He then suggested that since there were no passengers, I could pick out a clean blanket.
I was very 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 that night, the bus left the station, stopping and starting intermittently. The ticket collector even got off to argue with someone, 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 we have to spend the whole night like this, won't we be exhausted?"
Not long after we started running, the bus 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, but then, realizing they were being called, they both slumped down, clinging to me. The one in the back was practically on my chest. The sudden turn of events terrified me, and I froze, resigned to my fate, waiting for someone to come up and drag me off to be shot.
In reality, no one came up to check; the doors didn't even open. After the bus 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.
Once we left 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 bus sped forward, and the driver turned on the TV, playing some terrible music. All four channels were playing simultaneously—it was quite a spectacle. There was an old man behind me with the TV right in front of him, making a racket. He kept getting up and lying down, and the two students couldn't stand it anymore. One of them 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 phone? And what phone doesn't have an MP3 or MP4 player? Sure enough, as soon as the TV was off, everyone put on their headphones. The two students were examining their phones, and I took mine out to listen to music. I listen to these songs all the time, and with the air conditioning running after the bus started, it wasn't hot or smelly, so I drifted off to sleep.
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 other large sleeper buses like ours parked there, people were wandering around, but not many went into the nearby restaurant to eat. I looked around aimlessly and saw someone walking towards the left-hand 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 dimmed until we were enveloped in darkness, with only the occasional headlights of passing cars flashing by.
I couldn't sleep, so I listened to the music, my eyes darting around. 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 of me; 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 had downloaded a movie and handed it to me.
It was a comedy, and I put on my headphones to watch it. He started mimicking 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, while the other pretended not to move. I was confused, took off my headphones, and looked back at him. He immediately started pretending to sleep again, and I realized he was teasing his friend. 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 sleep on their stomachs. They both noticed 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, I had to make some space for them to crawl on top of me, and then my legs would touch their heads. 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 I could crawl on top of him to sleep.
What a great idea! I agreed. He groped his way over from the front. I pulled my skirt up under the covers, straightened it, and then covered myself with the blanket, letting them crawl on my calves.
Sleeping head to head, touching each other, if we shifted, one would be holding my feet, and the other would be too high up. Once they were settled like this, I felt awkward. First, I couldn't move my feet. I usually don't pay attention to whether my feet need to move while sleeping, but now my soles and toes were itchy, and they were very hot. I wanted to move but didn't dare. Because the boy crawling on top of 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; my mind started wandering. I turned it off, woke the boy up, and returned it to him.
I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, hoping to drift off. I lay there in a daze for a while, but couldn't fall asleep. The car was bumping along, and their movements on my legs made me feel restless. I used the fleeting headlights of passing cars to catch a glimpse of the boy's face. He looked handsome, fast asleep with his eyes closed
. I just waited idly for the headlights to appear. After a long while, after another bump, I felt a hand slip under the covers. My heart jumped. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep; 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 bumped onto me. My mind was blank, oblivious to the flashing lights and the roar of the engine; my entire focus was on that leg. I closed my eyes so tightly they ached.
The hand reached my knee, but since I couldn't move any further, it stopped there, gently kneading. I felt a little relieved and quietly breathed a sigh of relief, trying to relax.
Just then, a big jolt hit 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 hand
began to sweat, and my leg seemed to be sweating too. He sensed this and tentatively moved upwards. I don't know what I was thinking at the time, but I also took advantage of the jolt to spread my legs apart.
To be honest, he was handsome and I liked him. I didn't resist when he secretly touched me, but I've never done anything like that before, always giving people space. As soon as I spread my legs, I worried he'd touch me, touch my private parts, and tension surged up again.
Later, I realized that my leg-spreading might actually be a signal to him—that no man would let me off the hook.
This guy turned his head back and rested it on his arm, shifting his body higher. His elbow was almost touching my genitals with the swaying of the car. His hand below was even bolder, tentatively pausing before moving to my genitals, his fingers tracing the muscles of my thigh at the base.
Excitement increasingly overwhelmed my tension. I wanted to spread my legs wider, but the guy below held my feet. So, as his fingers carefully played with my waistband, I unconsciously turned my legs into an O-shape.
His hand trembled noticeably, pausing for a while before resuming its movement. His fingers gently brushed against the outside of my pants, making me want to move to ease the discomfort, but I was too nervous to move.
He started to pull up my pants from the side, his fingers touching my vulva like an electric shock. I involuntarily trembled. Before he could even separate them 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 could it be? 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, groping up and down, his wet fingers searching for an opening. I was pulled back by excitement, my buttocks starting to rub, desperately wanting to align my opening with his.
He penetrated me, and I couldn't control myself anymore. I reached out and grabbed his arm, which was resting on my pubic bone as if he were 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 his act. I ignored him and pulled his arm straight to 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, and I just stuck out my tongue for him to suck, 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 always inside.
He sucked on my tongue a few times, then pulled away, he was worried, he looked around, then came down to suck again. I was so uncomfortable 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 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 wrap my arms around his neck, when suddenly I felt a cold hand trembling and touching me there. I immediately reached out and pulled it down.
It finally opened up again, and his fingers rubbed my waistband raw, sore against my skin. I reached in, lifted my hips, and pulled it down to my legs.
The guy in front of me wasn't kissing me properly, just giving me a quick kiss and then looking up. Luckily, he started reaching in and touching my breasts. I lifted my t-shirt from my stomach, letting him put his hand inside, and he just touched me through my bra.
My legs were also being held and squeezed, and in this 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 shyly responded to the guy in front of me, who kept leaning down to kiss me.

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Traveling in the night

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