A few more passengers board

Stephanie's train of thought lurched to a stop as the bus did, but she was far from home still. Her eyes widened, and she quickly looked away as a rowdy group of boys hopped up the step. They paid their fare and began down the aisle, inevitably looking up to see the gorgeous rider in the back. This was one of the few occasions where Stephanie wouldn't try showing off for attention as these hoodlums weren't the kind to be strung along by her flirting lies. After her embarrassing tumble on the geeky boy prior, she definitely wasn't in the mood for more leering, so she just held her knees tightly together and looked intently at a random ad overhead. She could see their figures approaching the nearby seats and leaning obviously around to continue their staring. She crossed her arms indignantly and legs gruffly, preventing any more leering. Her lifted foot flexed anxiously in her new heels, staring out the window in hopes of seeing a landmark that meant she was close to home.

The ride continued to be bumpy, and Stephanie felt her clothes shifting with the motion, even her heels seemed to pull and swing her feet. It was slightly irritating, but she didn't dare risk adjusting, lest she flash the creeps. Furtive glances showed they weren't discouraged by her defensive posture, almost taking it as an invitation to look harder. She glanced down at how little she was putting on display, and balked at the position she didn't realize she had shifted into. Her crossed leg seemed to have swung much farther than she had meant to, and the entirety of her left leg was on display from ankle to ass. Her underwear was almost visible thanks to her skirt somehow flipping up higher on her lap than it had been when she sat. She had made sure it was laying as flat as possible, but it now sat bunched up on her hips! No wonder they were staring so hard. She quickly stabbed her lifted heel back into the floor, uncrossing her arms in order to reset her skirt. She cringed at how much she felt her tits bounce once released, barely noting they seemed to go on much longer than possible. With her feet planted firmly, she pressed each leg tightly together and buried her fists into her lap. Even if the skirt shifted again, it wouldn't be higher than mid thigh. She returned to looking out the window, happy to see the passing buildings grow more expensive as she nears her stop.

Stephanie expected a smoother trip as they entered her more affluent neighborhood, but she still feels her chest jiggling like a can can dancer and heavy vibrations through her footwear, practically numbing her feet as she dug them firmly into the ground. She clenched the fabric she covered harder in frustration and prayed for her stop, or at least the perverts' stop, to arrive. They continued to ogle, of course, and after hearing one of them exclaim, "Holy shit," she finally looked at them, but found half her vision obscured by the hem of her skirt rising skyward. Like a fish hook had caught her skirt, it was rising before their eyes. The only thing preventing them seeing her mound was her fists, but with her skirt defying gravity, she had to move them. She quickly grabbed the hem and pulled it down, praying nothing got flashed. To her confusion, the flimsy fabric doesn't budge. She'd have an easier time adjusting a marble statue, despite the flowing, soft texture. She pulled again, **** to reclaim her decency, but to her dismay, she felt the fabric pushing back, as the material trapped over her crotch was free to rise higher. To the outside observer, it looked like she was willingly flashing them. ****, Stephanie drew her legs together, but found no motion in her feet. Her knees struggled to connect, but a strong **** kept her heels rooted to the ground, like she had stepped in quick-drying cement. Out of options, she 'dropped' her skirt, gathered up her purchases, and stood to exit the bus.