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Fetish Stories Justine on the 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 attend school during the summer vacation period. Because she had never learned to drive at boarding school, 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, 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 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 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, 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 dress. 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. 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 hear it pounding away like a drum. 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, felt - nice. And she blushed even more deeply when she realized 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 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 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 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 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, 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, She twisted her hips to the right, then to the left, as much 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. 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 exposed to the shivery sensations his thumb had caused. She froze, trembling, as his finger pushed deeper into her pussy, and then his 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. 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. 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. breast, fingers sinking into the soft, sweating flesh, kneading and 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 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 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. 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 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 groin and lower belly again. It was worse now, and she felt as if she 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. 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. pushed something into her mouth. She started to close her lips but a 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, 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. 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. 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." 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 across her own. 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?" 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. 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. 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 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


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