A Steamy, Bumpy Ride Home

A burly man in the same uniform reached out a hand.

"Steve, when you touched Richard's daughter's leg just now, what'd it feel like? Softer than your wife's?"

The group burst into laughter, watching me with amused grins.

Steve wasn't embarrassed in the slightest. He smacked his lips and said, "Gotta say, Kendall's legs are smooth and soft. Not like us, who do rough labor. She's a college student now."

The same man shot back, "So what if she's a college student? She's still from our village. Let me feel those legs and see how soft they really are."

With that, a few other rough men behind him also reached out. "Let me feel too!"

In an instant, several large, calloused hands were groping and squeezing my legs.

"Man, these legs are tender. Feels great."

Deep down, I'd been starving for this kind of touch. Suddenly surrounded by several men, my body could barely take it.

Those big hands felt like they carried electric currents, sending tingles all over me until I couldn't help but let out a muffled moan.

"Hey! Stop that, all of you. Kendall's already panting," Steve said, pushing their hands away.

The men laughed even louder. One of them added, "A woman makes that sound when she wants it. Kendall's eighteen now—her body's definitely developed."

Hearing that, my face flushed red to the tips of my ears.

These men were all from my village. Some had even held me as a child.

I'd grown up listening to them talk about women this way. Back then, I didn't think much of it. But now that I was older, I knew exactly what it meant.

Steve leaned down and peeked under my skirt, then looked back at my face.

"She's wearing underwear. I can't see if she's grown any hair down there yet."

"Kendall, tell me—have you grown pubic hair yet? If you have, that means you're a woman now. And if you're a woman, you need a man."

How could I bring myself to talk about something like that? Face burning, I just lowered my head and stayed silent.

Seeing this, the rough men started egging him on.

"Steve, she's too shy to say it. Why don't you just pull her stockings down and take a look?"

"Right. What's the point of all these questions? Pull 'em down and let us see too."

My heart skipped a beat. We were on a bus. They weren't seriously going to pull my stockings down, were they?

But looking at their strong, solid bodies, I felt a strange thrill building inside me.

Without another word, Steve flipped my skirt up, revealing my stockings underneath.

I let out a yelp and quickly pressed my hand over the skirt.

"Don't be scared, Kendall. I've seen you running around naked as a kid. Let me check if you've grown up. A young girl like you wouldn't understand. When a woman reaches a certain age, she needs a man to nourish her."

His grip tightened as he yanked hard at my stockings.

"Steve, stop! If you keep pulling, you'll tear them," I cried out. I clamped my legs together, terrified they'd get dragged down.

But Steve's hands kept moving.

"It's not every day we run into each other on the bus. Let me have a look, and then we'll be done."

He waved to the others. "Don't just stand there. Help hold her legs down."

They came over eagerly, one on each side, and pried my thighs apart.

It was the first time so many men had spread my legs. The air felt cold down there.

The sensation was overwhelming. A wave of desire surged straight to my brain, and a fierce heat built low in my belly.

His hands kept rubbing my soft spot.

The other men behind him lost patience.

"Come on, Steve, just tear 'em."