ABOUT! - lucky, the trolley door opened right in front of my nose. A painful pause, when incoming people are trying to break through the dense rows of people leaving, and now the human wave brings me into the inside of public transport.

But stop, the stone wall meets me already on the second step of the back platform. The energetic pressure of the attackers, breaking the resistance, is driven into one more step. All further attempts of heated bodies to move the monolithic mass of passengers do not lead to anything significant.

“The trolleybus is not rubber!” There are muffled voices, and after standing for a few minutes, so that everyone can decide on his role - the passenger or the one still waiting - the car, without closing the door, slowly starts to move. The moment when unreasonable stuntmen who managed to put inside only their legs and grasped what (who) they were, were convinced of the magnitude of the danger and unhooked came back to a stop to continue their attempts to take another trolley bus by storm.

But now all this does not really bother me - my positions are strong enough. I was brought upstairs and squashed on a fixed wall continuing the trip. On the other hand, propping me up. Someone strong chest, strengthened by another two or three rows of muscular people. It is simply not possible to move in this grip.

Finally the doors closed and officially the journey began. After half an hour, the crowd will spit me out at the final stop of one of the sleeping areas. But suddenly it seemed that the immobile mass filling the salon, feeling the minute relaxation of those who had entered, worked like a spring and nailed everyone who was on the steps to the front door, depriving anyone of the opportunity to leave the walls of this “hospitable” transport.

This maneuver overturned me on my back, but the arc separating the flow of incoming ones did not let me down, which rested right between my buttocks. Gradually, I was pushed onto it, completely seated on this metal pipe. Feeling something solid between the legs, although of pleasant diameter, was not comfortable. Having collected all the forces, I tried to break away from this seat, which I hardly managed. However, it was not possible to maintain such muscle tension for a long time, and after a while I flopped a crotch on the same arc.

Oh! - while I was fighting for the position, someone took hold of the rail and now I'm sitting on his arm. Oh, how embarrassing it is.

All attempts to rise and change this ambiguous position only led to a nervous hand on a warm hand. Together with the intense tension of the legs, which I sometimes do to get rid of melancholy and loneliness, this led to the appearance of a warm weight in the lower abdomen and a pleasant buzz in the genital area. Somehow I got excited by myself and already purposefully began to rub my arm on the handrail, feeling the knuckle of each finger pressing in between my already swollen lips.

I closed my eyes. Hardened nipples already drilled back in front of a standing man. He leaned back and I leaned on my shameless arm, so the panties crawled off and bare lips touched my fingers. I screamed softly and finished involuntarily.

The worst thing is that the horror of the situation has not stopped. As a result of what happened, moisture gushed out of me and the mucus was already oozing on the fingers of my involuntary torturer. Blushing in shame, I hid my face on the back of a neighbor.

But, oh those arrogant fingers, they began to move. Tangled in sparse hairs, they made their way inside. What shamelessness, a new wave of excitement drove to my sufferer. But one finger left his brothers and completely plunged into a wet cave. He touches me from the inside! Well no. My breathing is already paying attention. Some old woman looks into my eyes with sympathy. Validolu wants to suggest something.

Fortunately, all this disgrace is happening under my not long enough skirt, which hides from prying eyes and strays in the direction of soaked panties and a terrible hand that torments me between my legs.

Suddenly the trolley bus stops abruptly, someone shouts: “Hold the door!”. The energy of the opening door, restrained by human bodies, is transformed into a powerful vibration, which is concentrated within my womb.

As I did not scream. It probably brought the vocal cords and my voice was gone. Otherwise, I would shout so much that they would put me in a mental hospital, or: in the police.

The people on the street fussed, fought at the closed door, and every push responded in my vagina, helpfully conveyed by a shamefully charming finger. The gigantic duration and orgasm lasted almost all the time while the trolley bus was standing at the bus stop.

I don’t remember how I got to the final one. Maybe something else was happening, but this ten minutes fell out of my memory. I remembered only one thing, that I should see someone who managed something that had not been possible to many for a long time and in a more relaxed atmosphere.

Finally, my sex transport stopped, and I could barely keep my legs on my back, I was falling out of the door. I quickly turn around, afraid to miss it.

A slender blonde, about thirty years old, with imps jumping at the corners of her eyes, was watching me closely, squinting at me.

Voronezh 2002.