The Wild Girl In The Bus

On a packed bus heading toward a college, bodies were pressed together so tightly it was hard to move. I deliberately leaned against a delicate, sweet-looking freshman.

She was wearing a short plaid skirt. I hitched the fabric up and pressed myself against her curvy hip.

What caught me off guard was her underwear. There was a small hole worn into the fabric, as if she were already overcome.

Just as I was about to lose control, I pulled back at the last second.

However, she held me there tightly and said, “Mister, don’t stop. Keep going.”

My name was Eddie Fuller. I had read a few psychology books.

I knew there was a certain type of woman who would not dare speak up, even when she was being harassed.

Women from poorer backgrounds, the kind who had not seen much of the world, carried that quiet sense of inferiority.

After weighing my options, I set my sights on first-year college students.

The ones who got dropped off in cars usually came from money.

The best targets were the ones who dragged their own suitcases and took the bus to campus on their own.

They were all over eighteen, but more importantly, they had never had any real education about boundaries.

They had spent their lives buried in books, rarely exposed to anything beyond school.

That left them naive.

I was already well into my thirties and still unmarried. The frustration built up day after day, to the point where it felt unbearable.

Hence, girls like that were exactly what I was looking for.

It was the start of the new semester, so I got on a bus headed toward a college campus.

The moment I stepped on, I was nearly crushed by the number of bodies on board.

It was packed wall to wall. People were pressed together with barely any room to stand.

I craned my neck to scan the back of the bus.

Just as I imagined, amid a cluster of older passengers stood a girl in a short plaid skirt.

There was a large suitcase set beside her.

It was obvious that she was a freshman. She was likely just arriving for registration. Her face still carried that bright, sheltered innocence from high school.

What really stood out were her legs. They were long and fair. I wanted to hoist them onto my shoulders and go all out.

I pushed my way through the crowded bus until I ended up right behind her.

I deliberately brushed against her with my body, even lightly rubbing myself against her firm bottom.

That bouncy sensation instantly sent my blood racing.

My body reacted instantly. My pants bulged as I leaned against her.

Yet she did not react at all.

That was exactly what I had been hoping for.

If it had been some office worker instead, she would have already pulled out her phone and shoved it in my face.

She would have screamed about me being a pervert.