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Subject: Justine on the Bus - MM/f, groping, sex on bus, NC
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Date: Sun, 09 Nov 2003 04:25:04 +0000
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===================
An innocent girl gets more of a ride than she bargained for when
stepping on a crowded city bus
The problem of Justine's sheltered life became apparent that summer. A
gentle girl, Justine had decided to go to university and study
Astronomy, for she had always appreciated the quiet, serenity of the
universe above the hurly burly world around her. Unfortunately, it
emerged that while St. Gwendolyn's had done an excellent job teaching
her art appreciation, cooking, posture, table manners, fashion and the
three "R's, including Latin, it had done rather less well in teaching
American history, knowledge of which would be helpful in taking her SAT
exams for entrance to university.
So Justine, in her innocence, simply applied for a local high
school course given during the summer, to young persons who, like
herself, had somehow not been properly educated in the requirements
dictated for high school. It did not occur to her as she did, to
consider what manner of young person might be attending with her, and
why, despite their not having attended school in a foreign country, they
had been insufficiently educated to the point they were required to
attend school during the summer vacation period.
Because she had never learned to drive at boarding school,
Justine's first exposure to the less protected elements of life arrived
on the bus to school her first morning. She was clad in a light summer
dress, one she had recently purchased but never worn, and carrying with
her several notebooks, a pencil holder, a paperback dictionary, and a
box lunch. These she managed to place together and hold under one arm as
she stood on the crowded bus holding onto an overhead strap.
Because her mother had disliked the California summer heat,
she had taken a chalet in Switzerland during summer months, and Justine
had joined her there during the school holidays. Her short time at her
air conditioned home, and in similarly equipped shops and cars, had
taught Justine little about what to expect, and so Justine was poorly
equipped for the heat that day.
She had begun to perspire the moment she had left the house,
and by the time she reached the bus stop many blocks away Justine's
light summer frock was, in places, pressed very tightly against her
soft, warm flesh. The bus, when she finally got on, was worse, for the
air conditioning was not working
Justine stood, panting, swaying, occupying a tiny space
between the body of an enormous, fat Black woman and a greasy looking,
long haired man wearing a soiled undershirt and baggy jeans. Her eyes
were half closed as she breathed in shallow breaths, the heat and
sweltering humidity robbing her of energy. When she felt a hand on her
belly her eyes jerked open and she gasped softly.
She was staring over the shoulder of the fat black woman, and
as the hand rubbed softly at her belly her heart began to pound and her
pulse raced, and a red flush crept over her face. The hand was coming
from behind her. She tried to look over her shoulder without being
obvious, but with her left arm held up to hold onto the strap that
proved impossible. A braver girl would have whirled around and
confronted whomever it was, but to Justine, the thought of meeting the
eyes of whoever was touching her was just too embarrassing.
The fat woman was blocking her way ahead, and the bus was
just turning onto a freeway, which meant it was not about to suddenly
stop - even if she could reach the bell.
She stood, tense to the point of trembling, biting her lip,
eyes rolling from one side to the other as the hand gently caressed her
moist stomach through the thin summer dress. It went away, and she felt
a momentary relief, but then her eyes widened even further as the hand
slid onto her bottom and began to squeeze her buttocks through the thin
dress.
This was much more embarrassing than having a hand on her
stomach, and Justine turned beet red, her ears hot as she tried to think
of what to do. One of her teachers had once told her to simply ignore
girls who were teasing her. The theory behind it was that if they didn't
get a rise out of her they'd get bored with their teasing. It hadn't
really worked very well, but it was very much in keeping with her meek
personality, and so she had been reacting to teasing and other
unpleasant situations in the same way for more than a decade.
But it was very hard to ignore the hand as it squeezed and
caressed her bottom through the thin material. She managed it because
her only alternative was to create a big, humiliating scene. As soon as
the bus stopped she would get off, and that would be that.
The hand went away, and then it slid onto her belly again,
caressing her flat tummy, then sliding upwards. The higher it moved the
faster her heart pounded, until, as it slid gently up over her left
breast she thought the people standing nearby must surely be able to
hear it pounding away like a drum.
But no one appeared to notice anything as the hand began to
knead her breast. She tried to turn away, but she could not move her
position enough and still hold onto the strap. So she had no alternative
but to stand in place and pray the bus would stop, that people would
move, that she could move away before someone noticed.
The hand was not squeezing her quickly or strongly. In fact,
aside from the humiliation burning through her mind the hand actually
felt - nice. And she blushed even more deeply when she realized her
nipple was hard and that the mysterious stranger who was fondling her
must notice due to the thinness of her dress.
Sure enough she felt the fingers rubbing at her nipple, then
stroking and pinching it lightly. Her heart was still pounding, but now
she felt a strange dark heat between her legs.
The hand slid down her stomach and rubbed her lightly between
the legs, then glided down her left leg, and up the inside. She gasped
as she felt the hand slide slowly up and down her inner leg, climbing
higher along her thigh. She tried to snap her legs shut but almost
immediately lost her balance and was forced to spread her feet apart
again. Even as she did so she felt the hand stroke up along her inner
thigh and rub against her panty covered pussy.
She snapped her thighs closed again, but only succeeded in
trapping the hand between them. The thumb was pressed up along her groin
while the rest of the hand was pushed in between her thighs and rubbing
at her sex. Then the thumb curled under and slid in under the elastic
band to stroke directly across her warm mons.
Justine was a virgin. No one had ever touched her there but
herself, and she had done so sparingly, wary of her teachers' warnings
of bestial influence coming from "unnatural" libidinous behaviour. She
hadn't wanted to be a prostitute and drug addict, as her teachers
promised her were the normal fate of girls who touched themselves in
forbidden places, and so had avoided doing so.
Now the long, thick, pudgy thumb was pressed against her sex
right across her narrow slit, and even as she clenched her teeth to keep
from crying out in horror and embarrassment, the thumb stroked softy
upwards and began to rub against the top of her opening.
By coincidence, perhaps, she was extremely sensitive there,
and the stroking thumb was sending strange shivery sensations through
her belly. And the more the thumb rubbed the softer and more delicious
it felt. After long, flustering moments she realized that the thumb now
felt slippery and moist, like her fingers did when she was soaping
herself up. Her groin began to warm, to feel hot and heavy and liquid,
and it was beginning to make her legs feel rubbery
She twisted her hips to the right, then to the left, as much
as she could without pulling free of the strap and probably falling
against someone, and tried to brush her skirt down with her right hand
without dropping all the things she was holding in the crook of her arm.
She realized her legs were no longer as tightly closed as
they were when she felt his thumb stroking downwards and the rest of his
fingers push up under the crotch of her panties and rub gently back and
forth along her sex, pushing up into the soft, warm flesh. She let out a
soft gasp, and tried to close her legs again, but suddenly he slipped
his middle finger right up against her narrow slit, and with uncanny aim
thrust it right through into her pussy.
Justine's eyes bulged and she shuddered. It stung, yet it
also seemed to unlock some strange part of her nervous system already
exposed to the shivery sensations his thumb had caused. She froze,
trembling, as his finger pushed deeper into her pussy, and then his
thumb began to stroke against her clitoris again and she closed her eyes
in dazed disbelief as her hips rolled slowly and helplessly.
Her eyes were wet with unshed tears now, her mind spinning
with fear, embarrassment and confusion. Sweat was rolling down her body
and she was gulping in air through her open mouth. She felt a second
hand slide up beneath her skirt in back, pushing up through the leg hole
of her panties to stroke and squeeze her bare bottom.
It drew back and then suddenly she felt the man's body
pressing into her from behind, felt something especially hard grinding
into her bottom as a hand slid around her belly and up over her breast.
It had a small, very sharp knife, and she bit back a scream as she felt
a warm breath in her ear. "Don't worry, baby. Nobody will see," it said.
The words were oddly reassuring, though the knife was
frightening. But the knife slid downwards, out of sight, and a moment
later she felt the hands gripping her panties, tugging them up against
her. She felt the waistband pull free, as if torn - or cut, then the
other do the same, and suddenly there was air against her moist pussy
and she realized the man had cut her panties from her.
She felt what could only be his erection still pushing
against her bottom from the rear, and looked frantically at the people
crowded in front of her and to one side. None could be aware, and her
mind was twisted with terror and anxiety at the same time. If someone
saw they could perhaps protect her, but if someone saw - Justine could
not bear the thought of someone seeing, of them screaming, pointing,
eyes swivelling to stare.
She whimpered, but kept her eyes down, even as she felt the
zipper at the back of her dress pulling slowly down, felt the shoulders
loosening. The zipper pulled all the way down her back, then she felt
fingers at the clasp of her bra. It loosened and pulled free, and she
whimpered in denial as a large, moist hand slipped over her back, rubbed
softly as it pushed deeper into her dress, around her ribs, and then up
under her left breast.
It pushed her loosened bra cup away and cupped her bare
breast, fingers sinking into the soft, sweating flesh, kneading and
massaging it as her skull pounded with such intense anxiety she felt she
must surely faint. The hand continued to squeeze her breast, and then
the other pushed down between her legs again, fingers clawing her skirt
up, sliding the soft fabric up her thighs until the hand could push beneath.
It stroked her trembling thigh, then cupped her sex and
rubbed lightly. The middle finger traced the line of her slit, then
wriggled through the taut pubic lips, searching for and finding her
entrance. It slid easily inside her, pushing, probing, fingering her.
She felt the hand at her breast sliding up, and let out a helpless
little squeak as her rigid nipple was caught between thumb and
forefinger and pinched, then twisted.
She felt a throaty chuckle, and the fingers loosened, then
began to roll the nipple between them. The man's groin was grinding into
her bottom as his finger pumped into her sex. The top of his finger was
rubbing heavily back and forth against that ultra sensitive little bit
of flesh at the top of her sex, and her body was beginning to fairly
glow with heat.
The bus was very noisy. The engine was grinding, the air was
rushing through the open windows, the traffic around them was growling,
and there were many loud conversations, many in foreign languages.
Justine's soft, ragged gasping breaths and occasional whimpers drew no
attention whatever as the man behind continued to grope, fondle and
molest her.
And then to her horror she felt him tugging her skirt up in
back, and felt something thicker than a finger, softer, yet still very
hard, warm and throbbing, press up against her bare bottom and rub
between her buttocks. She quivered with revulsion and horror, and tried
again to pull away. But the hand tightened on her breast, squeezing
painfully, and she felt his warm breath at her ear.
"Do you want me to cut you?" he hissed.
She halted, frightened. It did not occur to her that with one
hand in on her breast and the other between her legs he had none left to
hold a knife. She stood frozen in fear as he continued to rub himself
against her bare bottom. They were both sweating, and his cock moved
easily, sliding gently against her buttocks, then in between.
Justine jerked as if slapped when she felt the fat, spongy
head pushing at her sex. She knew he could not have sex with her in this
position - or thought she did. But she was still terrified that what she
knew about sex was wrong, that somehow he would find a way to take her
virginity.
She felt the head rubbing back and forth along her slit, and
despite her fear she felt that strange shivery sensation through her
groin and lower belly again. It was worse now, and she felt as if she
were melting down there as the soft head pushed slowly in between the
lips of her sex.
She felt her pussy lips stretch and strain, but, riding a
warm, moist layer of perspiration, the fat, soft head pushed slowly
through, and the man began to kind of rock and grind against her,
pushing just the head in and out of her quivering opening. He pushed
faster and faster, and she felt and heard his breath grow faster behind
her. He squeezed her breast harder and his other hand rubbed at her sex
more quickly.
And then he groaned softly and she felt much more slickness
where the head of his cock was pumping just inside the mouth of her sex.
His cock eased back and he leaned against her a little. He fumbled with
something, and she thought she heard his zipper. Then she felt something
between her legs, some kind of fabric rubbing against her, pushing into
her sex, moist and wrinkled, driven by his finger in between her pussy
lips, then pulled slowly out.
She felt his lips at her ear. "Open your mouth," the growled.
Hardly able to think, she did as she always did, and obeyed.
A moment later she saw a movement just before his hand rose and he
pushed something into her mouth. She started to close her lips but a
growl in her ear opened them again as he pushed what she realized were
her own panties into her mouth. She was bewildered by this, moaning
softly as he forced the wadded up panties through her lips, prodding at
the last bit to stuff it inside.
"So you won't talk," he growled.
She heard the bell ring, and then her skirt dropped and he
tugged up the zipper on the back of her dress. She felt nothing, then,
and when the bus stopped and people started crowding and jostling she
was turned about and saw nothing but strange faces. She did not know if
one of them had molested her or if her molester had left.
A seat was freed and she sat down, almost falling into the
seat as her legs gave way. She rubbed sweat from her face and forehead
and brushed back some of her damp hair, fighting nausea and feeling
faint. Her mind was still reeling and she trembled and flushed as she
recalled the man's hands on her body.
Worse, her mouth was stuffed with her own panties, and she
could not possibly bring herself to take them out, not in public where
people might see. She could taste her own sweat, and smell her own musky
sex on the panties. And then, worse, a trickle of something warm and
slimy rolled onto her tongue, and she almost vomited as she realized it
could be nothing other than the man's own fluids.
But vomiting in front of all these people would be
horrifyingly embarrassing, to say nothing of them wondering what a pair
of panties were doing in her mouth! So she forced her stomach down,
desperately trying to concentrate on anything else, to ignore the salty
liquid as it trickled over her tongue and into the back of her mouth.
She was determined not to swallow, to hold it in check and spit it all
out at the first opportunity, but saliva began to fill her mouth and
soon she had no choice but to swallow - repeatedly, despairing as she
felt his juices sliding down her throat.
She didn't notice, at first, that she had missed her stop.
When she did, she reacted instinctively, pulling the cord to stop the
bus as soon as possible.
She got off on a narrow street lined with small shops, many
of them closed and boarded over. She knew approximately where she was,
however, and hurried up the street in the direction the bus had come. It
was only, she guessed, a few blocks to the school.
She was uneasy, however, for while her skirt was not
especially short she wore no panties, and she knew the summer blouse was
fairly thin. With the way she was sweating it was plastered against her
bare bottom, and she was fearful about what passers by could see. Yet
she could do nothing about it, not even pull the panties out of her
mouth, for there was no time when there were not strange eyes on her,
when she could remove them secretly without anyone seeing.
In her desperation she turned down a narrow side street, and
thence into an alley. With her back turned to the street she at last had
the privacy to reach up and tug the wadded up panties out of her mouth.
She crumpled them in her fist, spitting and coughing, and jamming them
into her purse. She looked behind her, but no one had seen. She decided
to take a chance, and walked deeper into the alley for more privacy.
To one side was a low cement platform with a large steel
door. This was a ramp trucks backed up to, but all Justine cared was
that she could put her purse, books and box there to free her right
hand. That done she reached behind her and pulled the zipper of her
dress down, then reached back for the two ends to her bra strap and
tugged them back. She felt the bra cups closing against her breasts once
more, and pulled harder, trying to fix the snap together.
"What jou doink leetle puta?"
She gasped and whirled around. The man was large, strongly
built, with thick, curly dark hair. He had on rough, loose brown pants
and boots, as well as a dirty T-shirt. He was carrying a tire under his
arm, but set it down as he moved towards her. Alarmed and embarrassed,
Justine backed away, then stopped as he halted and grinned, looking at
her things.
"P-Please," she gulped, as he picked up one of her books. "I
need that."
"Hey? Jou need dees? What chou pay for eet?"
Justine stared at him in bewilderment. "Those are mine," she
gulped.
"Jou calleeng me a thief?" he growled, his face going flat.
"No! I mean. I mean, those are my books," she gulped,
starting to back away again. "And my purse."
"Your purse, eh? You want mebbe I give eet to jou?"
She nodded helplessly.
"Come get eet, den."
He held the purse out to her and Justine licked her lips
anxiously. She wanted to turn and run away, but her purse was there, and
her books. She had no money if he took her purse. How was she to get
home? She stepped forward anxiously, nervously, then took another step.
She reached for it and he pulled it back a little, grinning.
"Please," she gulped. "I have to get to school."
"Jou a schoolgeerl, eh? Jou dress nice for a schoolgirl," he
said with a leer.
Justine blushed, stepping a little closer, reaching for the
purse as he held it out.
"I geeve all deese things to jou for one theen," he said.
"Wh-what?"
"A little kees."
She blinked her eyes. "Pardon?"
He chuckled. "A leetle kees from jou."
"I-I can't!' she sputtered.
"Why not? Am I ugly?"
"No!"
"You mebbe don't like Mexicans?"
"Of course not! I mean, of course I like Mexicans!"
"Jou geeve to me leetle kees den. Not so big trouble, eh?"
She looked behind her desperately, then drew in a shaky
breath, "Can I have my things then?"
"Of course," he said with a slow, spreading smile.
She licked her lips, then stepped a little closer. He was
sweaty, but not as much as she was, and not really ugly, though he was
many years older than she. She pulled her lips in tightly, as if she
could make them disappear, then leaned in to brush them against his cheek.
His arms went around her and she squealed, trying to wriggle
free.
"Just a kees," he said. "A real kees. Jou not know how to
kees? I show you."
His lips crushed hers. One of his hands slid up behind her
head while the other spread wide and squeezed her bottom. He ground his
pelvis into her as his tongue pushed into her mouth and slid lewdly
across her own.
Justine's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as his lips slid
forcefully and wetly over her own, his tongue twisting and writhing
inside her mouth like a maddened snake. The kiss seemed to go no
forever, and even when he pulled back she found herself still trapped in
his arms, backed against the low ramp.
"Jou like my kees?" he leered.
"Please let me go now," she gulped.
"Of course I let jou go!" he exclaimed. "What you do here
with your dress open, eh?"
His hand slid up to the open back of her dress and rubbed at
her bare flesh. "Jour bra ees open, eh?" he chuckled, his tongue sliding
along his lip.
"I-it came undone," she gulped.
He kissed her again, this time seizing her head in both
hands, his mouth fairly devouring hers as his tongue thrust in and out
over her lips. He pushed her back against the low stone wall, his body
pressing her hard, his pelvis grinding into hers as she frantically
slapped at his chest.
"Jou are a very preety geerl," he said.
"Please let me go!" she gulped, her eyes staring to fill with
tears.
"Of course I let jou go! I just like preety girls. I like to
look at jou and touch you."
Her arms were extended towards him, and his hands were behind
her shoulders, so it was nothing for him to slide his fingers into the
open back of her dress and - pull. The dress slid forward over her
shoulders and down her arms.
Justine cried out in shock and embarrassment and clamped her
arms down across her chest, but the dress was now off her shoulders, and
the man pressed his body against her again, chuckling as he pulled at
it, purring and licking at her, calling her a pretty girl as he fought
her hands for possession of her dress. He forced her arms down, and now
was able to pull the open bra over her shoulders as well.
Justine's face flooded with heat as he stared at her bare
breasts, his eyes lit up with glee and lust. He spoke in Spanish, then
to her horror, bent forward and took the centre of her right breast into
his mouth. His teeth bit into the soft flesh and his lips closed tightly
as he began to suck powerfully. His tongue licked wildly at her nipple,
and in desperately Justine slammed her knee up into his groin.
He gurgled in pain and stumbled back, his lips pulling off
her breast. He clawed at her as he fell, tearing her bra down her arms.
Justine yanked her dress back up and grabbed her purse and books, then
turned and ran from the alley as he shouted incoherent curses after her.
She pulled the dress over her shoulders as she ran, then
reached behind her and yanked the zipper up.
She ran for two blocks before slowing, by chance, in the
proper direction. She saw the looming bulk of the school ahead of her,
and moved doggedly on, deciding to get to the school and call a cab. She
had been through too much that morning to sit in a classroom and listen
to history. Besides, she was sweating like a pig, her hair was a mess,
and she now had no underwear at all. She was quite nervous about the
sweat dampened clothes clinging to her body. And hoped no one would notice.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
From the ebook: The Shy Girl, by Argus
Argus books have been published by Virgin Nexus, Silver Moon, Star,
Olympia, Chimera, and Beeline. His ebooks are available for downloading
at http://www.ebookblue.com