Justine on the Bus - MM/f, BD, groping, sex on bus

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.

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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