Bus 1
Several days pass. My roommate finally moves into the empty bed next to mine, and the dormitory—which used to feel deserted everywhere—now buzzes with people. There's not even a single quiet hallway left. She's older than me but in the same freshman year, a short unnie with a decent personality. She's easy to talk to, not mean or anything, but I can't exactly sleep naked or freely rub my pussy like I did when I was alone. I have to see her face for at least the whole semester, maybe my entire college life, so starting off like that is out of the question...
Instead, all the stuff I shipped in packages arrives, so I no longer have to wear the same grubby underwear or single outfit day after day. A little disappointing, but... I have to hold back now. There are just too many people around.
Of course, the dorm filling up coincides almost exactly with the start of the semester. Just waiting a day or two makes me the sole female student in the utterly pointless Smart Green Mechanical Engineering department. Green food? Mechanical engineering mixed with nature? No clue how that even works. Whatever, it doesn't matter. I'm not here to study anyway—I'm here to play.
What really frustrates me is something else entirely. The dorm and campus buildings are swarming with people. Maybe because the school's perched on a hillside, nobody scatters outside; they all cram into the limited indoor spaces, making everywhere packed. So I head out.
The map shows a direct bus to an area that looks deserted. On a weekday afternoon departing from the city outskirts, it's nearly empty—just a couple of people up front. I wanted somewhere without people, but I didn't expect it to be this empty right from the start. Why not try it here? My instincts, pent up from days of frustration, whisper softly. For a split second, it doesn't sound like a bad idea.
There aren't many passengers, and if I sit in the back, no one should see below my waist. Perfect timing too—I'm already wearing a skirt instead of pants since I was heading out for something like this. The conditions aren't bad... Just a little. Just a tiny bit. I swallow hard.
"Student, you getting on or what?"
I've been standing frozen too long; the bus driver is staring at me. His gaze is sharp, almost piercing.
"Y-Yes, coming!"
My legs tremble from the tension, making it hard to walk, but I somehow make it to the back seat. Not the very last row—that one's elevated and too visible. The one just in front. The wheel takes up leg space, so it's uncomfortable, but at least it's hidden from the front.
I catch the driver's eyes in the mirror above the windshield. I'm not dressed weird today—why does he keep looking? ...Did he figure out what I'm about to do? Is he going to kick me off? My body tenses in panic, but his gaze shifts away, and the bus vibrates softly as it pulls out.
He must've just been checking if I was sitting down. Back in my old neighborhood, buses just took off. Big city life's different, huh. I turn my head to the window, murmuring in quiet awe.
We're still in the school area, so my body's shaking too much to try anything. Once the scenery shifts to unfamiliar roads, my head fills with filthy thoughts. I can't hold back anymore. It's been too long without doing anything. I can't take it.
The wheel crowds my legroom, so there's barely any height difference between the seat and floor—it's like sitting on the ground. I carefully raise my legs. My skirt rides up naturally along my straight thighs. It's not that short, reaching my knees, but it settles midway up, exposing plenty. Without the seat in front, the people ahead would see my panties at this angle.
My heart pounds. The mere possibility of being seen ramps up my excitement. But this isn't enough. No one's seeing anyway. I want to go further.
I grab the hem of my skirt and tuck it into my waistband. No coverage left for my panties now. It's like I'm not wearing a skirt at all—just rolled fabric cinched at my hips. My carefully chosen black cotton panties are fully exposed. If someone sat next to me, they'd see everything with a single glance—no hiding it.
Haa... showing my panties on a bus. Feels so good. I really am a pervert. It's a space no one can see into, but anyone could enter this public ride. My heart tightens bit by bit, breaths quickening. I trail my fingers along my pussy lips over the fabric. The instant they touch, electric pleasure shoots up my spine to my scalp. Unbelievably good.
On a bus, with people around... flashing my panties right behind them. They might see if they're not careful. My reflection in the window glows pink. Something leaks from deep inside, soaking my panties. My fingers brush over again, this time picking up wetness from the drenched crotch.
Haa, feels amazing.
Then the bus turns right, stopping mid-intersection. My eyes meet a little girl's outside, waiting at the light. She clutches her mom's hand, staring up at me blankly, a small doll in her other hand. Here I am, skirt hiked up, panties on display—and she's innocently watching, oblivious.
I wave without thinking, and she timidly waves her doll hand back.
"Hngh."
That pure gaze floods me with depraved guilt. My waving fingers are slick with my pussy juices. Sorry, kiddo. You can't see from there, but your unnie's a pervert flashing her panties on the bus. The center of my panties soaks through completely.
The bus moves, pulling away from her slowly. She'll never know I was exposing myself, her whole life.
I want to touch my breasts. Squeeze those soft tits. That'd feel so good. My nipples must be swelling sensitively inside my bra. But touching my chest would expose me to the driver... The seat doesn't hide my upper body.
Instead... I slide my panties aside. Not bad as a substitute. No—this feels incredible. Now I'm showing my pussy on the bus too. I shouldn't, but it feels so good.
I crack the window; cool outside air brushes between my legs. I wish someone would see. Notice what a pervert I am. Call me names... that'd feel even better.
In my fantasy, the bus fills with people. I don't fix my skirt in time—they see my panties exposed, my hand on my pussy. They scream with contempt: Pervert. Outdoor masturbating slut. Filthy whore.
"Hah, haa, ngh..."
A stifled moan slips out, just for my ears. I tug my panties down uncomfortably. With my skirt fully hiked, my bare ass presses directly onto the seat. A chair strangers sit on in dirty clothes—who knows when it was last cleaned... but it touches me raw.
I pull my panties to my ankles and spread my legs wide. My pussy is completely exposed inside the bus. Anyone glancing down would think I'm bottomless. Skirt rolled at my waist, panties down, pussy splayed open—what a slut. If I saw this myself, I'd yell crazy bitch.
And here I am, doing it to myself. That thrill makes my pussy throb desperately. Deep pleasure wells up from within. My swollen outer lips quiver with each finger movement.
Too good... stripping outside feels too fucking good...
Leaking slutty juices soak the seat. My fingers keep grazing my clit. Each time, my pussy spasms, hole twitching visibly.
"Haa..."
Hot breath scatters in the cool draft. Every bus stop brings ordinary people into view, living normal lives. What am I doing next to them? On a bus, exposing my pussy no less.
Endless waves of taboo guilt and deviance stir strange emotions—turning into raw pleasure.
"Hngh... haa, huaa..."
My hips twitch faintly. Climax hits fast. Pleasure crashes over me, my hole clenching and squirting rhythmically. I pant hot breaths, glancing around. No one seems to know what I did.
I hurriedly pull up my panties and smooth my skirt. The wet fabric chills against the breeze—freezing cold. Only then does reason return. My overheated arousal cools like those panties.
Stupid... masturbating on a bus. Fantasizing about being insulted too... Pathetic, getting off on this. Self-loathing fills my head.
...No. I already knew I was a pervert. It felt amazing. If it was that good, that's all that matters. And I came all the way here to do stuff like this, right?
I nod to myself, lost in my own idea. Yeah, that's settled. Just go with it.