Bus 3 (3)
I forget all about needing to get dressed before anyone catches me and reach out toward the curtain. I crack it open just a sliver, enough to peek my face through without revealing my perverted state.
The moment the cool glass touches my forehead, I see people bustling around chaotically. Everyone's rushing to find their bus. Look over here. There's a naked pervert right here. Hey, you, the guy walking by—don't you want to see this? Right now, you can feast your eyes on a real woman's body, no mosaic, no nothing. I'm a pervert who gets off on showing off outside. The thrill filling my body feels so good. I'm starting to love these feelings so much, I wonder if it's really okay.
Lost in staring outside, my attention on the inside of the bus slackens—and that's when the bus sways slightly. Huh? Wh-what? I hurriedly pull my head back inside and scan around. Peeking over the seatback, I spot a guy just boarding the bus. He's got a big bag slung over his shoulder, wearing a crisp military uniform. Even from afar, his clean, neat clothes contrast sharply with my state. I only glanced for a split second, but his eyes turn toward me. I duck my head fast, hiding between the seats, but I can't stop the sound of his footsteps thudding closer.
Wh-what do I do? I need to cover up. My heart feels like it stops cold. Did he see? Did he spot me like this and come over? No, no way. I only stuck my head out a bit—no way my bare shoulders showed. He's probably just finding his seat. There are still tons of empty spots. But even so, this is bad. What if it's right behind me? Or right next to me? What's the chance he picks a seat up front? Even if it's right in front of me, anyone standing would see everything. My pale skin would stand out too much. What do I do? What can I cover myself with? Using my discarded clothes would look suspicious too, and it's getting warmer—no blanket. My bag won't cover my whole body. What happens if he catches me like this? He's army-age, prime for raging hormones. What would he think of me? What if he takes a photo? Should I drop to my knees and beg? But if eyes get drawn and everyone stares... They'd look at me with contempt. Or maybe report me right here. …He could hide me from everyone else while reaching up, slyly touching my arm or leg... the inside of my thigh. And I wouldn't resist, just tremble there helplessly. Once the bus starts and there's no escape, he'd toy with me however he wants for hours. My heart plummets, but my overheated brain keeps spinning out the worst scenarios.
One thing's for sure, no matter what—no way to cover up. I'm definitely getting caught. No escaping it. Can't avoid it. …… ………… Then, maybe...
I slowly spread my legs toward the aisle. The slick feel of the curtain and window against my back. Legs wide open, I use both hands to spread my lewd hole. So if I'm caught, no excuses. Like I'm accepting it without a word. Displaying my body like it's for viewing. Even though getting caught would ruin me, I do it anyway. Only then does my head clear. What the hell am I doing? Are you insane, Im Ha-yoon? Dead set on ending your life for real? …No excuses anyway. If it's over... I can do what I want, right? Yeah?
What would Yeji unnie say if she saw me like this right beside her? She'd probably glare at me with disgust and mutter, 'Ha, first time seeing a bitch like you. You really wanted to flash that filthy cunt in front of everyone? Un-fucking-believable. You're not even worth treating like a human, you dirty slut. What should I call you now? Horny beast? Bitch in heat? Cunt-on-legs trash?' Even though it's just my imagination, her words feel so vivid, like I could hear her voice any second. Those pointless, hyper-real taunts my brain conjured stab right into my chest. Words that insult who I am—and I can't think of a single thing to deny them.
I mean, even whores spread their legs for cash—not like me, baring it all for free on public transport. Can't blame people for seeing me as a bitch in heat. Every time I chew over those words piercing my lungs, filthy juices gush from my pussy. Honestly, even those humiliating words turn me on. Words that demean and degrade me make me face my reality, and reflecting on it floods me with pleasure right to the tips of my hair. I'm a pervert, after all. Normal people wouldn't go this far no matter how excited—but I wanted to. And I did it.
Waiting like that for my fate to arrive, legs spread for so long, but the guy never comes closer. Instead, I hear the creak of leather and fabric from a bit away. The crisis that could've ended my life sat way up front instead. No sigh of relief comes. A hollow disappointment wraps around me. In the end, I'm just a pervert spreading her legs alone on a bus full of people. But my untouched pussy twitches and spasms on its own, spewing lewd juices. Dizzying, intense pleasure fills my body. My vision flashes white for a moment.
"H-hah... hngk... h-heuk, hngaaaah..."
The sound is so tiny, no one right in front could hear. Suppressing my voice is the limit of my sanity. "H-heuk... hng..." My waist twists irregularly, legs quivering. The bus shakes from it, and I hear someone ahead clear their throat and shift, annoyed—but I can't react. Feels so good. Almost got in huge trouble, never again... but I can't forget this feeling. This pleasure like my sanity's snapping, like my body's floating away—I'll crave it forever. Bad premonition.
Haah, haah... I stay legs-spread, savoring the afterglow until the sweat soaking my body cools. No strength to get up, so I just lie there. Only after a long while, when the sweat chills, can I barely sit up. Am I crazy? Why'd I spread there? Trying to get yourself in real shit? With a cooled head, even I can't understand what I was thinking. That was seriously dangerous...
Really gotta get dressed before anyone catches me. I hurry to straighten up, and my bare skin peels from the leather seat with a loud squelch. I jolt and glance around. No one heard, right? Now that the danger passed and my head's clear, my situation hits crystal: a naked pervert in an open space with no cover. Why the hell did I do this? I grab my discarded clothes quick, but my panties are soaked through, slick and slimy. Haah, gotta get fresh ones. Bag on my lap, unzipping feels like thunder. Paranoid someone's gonna come running at the noise. Of course, underwear's buried deepest. Gotta dig through snacks, toiletries, all my crap first. Why'd I do this? Should've kept undies on top. Miserable, I unload everything. Nowhere to put it but on my discarded clothes. Tense, moving slow to stay silent. Bag brushing my bare legs feels weird. At least no one boards or moves till I get fresh panties. Phew, lucky.
Trying to slip them on, but not just between my legs—my whole body's sticky. Especially below my waist, everywhere touching the seat is damp. Ah... the sweat from before's already tacky. Gross. And forgot to wipe the juices. Gotta clean up to dress. When'll I even do that? Post-high rational cleanup feels impossible.