Botched Effort

You pushed hard, shoving the man away from you into the crowd, you twisted your head around and gave him a stern stare. You hoped the meaning was clear,"don't fuck with me or I'll scream." The man drunkenly smiled, as if he knew something you couldn't even fathom. The train jostled again and the crowd pressed the two of you back together. The man didn't waste time, he gave you lopsided grin as he stuffed a dirty handkerchief into your wide open mouth. You tried to yelp but your voice was muffled by the cloth. He closed a hand around your lips stopping you from making further protest. You gave him a baffled expression. You tasted the cloth, an old mildew rag. Now that he had circumvented your protest and the crowd didn't seemed concerned, he continued his ****. You tried to thrash, to bump or jostle the nearby bus goers but the man had you pinned. He pulled down the back of your yoga pants and your thong along with it. You felt the cold train air hit your exposed snatch and asshole. Now what were you supposed to do. Anyone who looked over would not only see you committing whatever salacious acts the man had in mind but would also get an eyeful of your buxom ass.

The man put his fingers in his mouth wetting them with saliva. He pulled them out with a sickening pop. He proceeded to slide them between your legs, feeling the edge of your pussy lips. The tingling returned in full ****. Your cheeks grew flush and you struggled to breath around the dirty cloth. Before they could dry, he plunged his fingers into your tight pussy. The violation struck you like a bolt of lightning, causing your back to pull taught. He began to pump in and out, feeling the smooth walls of your slit. Your pussy reacted, it expelled its juices, allowing his fingers to grow coated in a thick slime. You hated this, hated this **** and how it seemed to dance across the nerves of your body. You were turned on but it wasn't a slow build but more of a confused reflex. He went as a frenetic pace enjoying the grip of your pussy lips on his finger tips.

Finally he stopped pounding, your body relaxed, welcoming the freedom from the ****. You felt him withdraw, your lips now swollen and red.