Yes, I did not think that writing a story takes so much time and effort. It's one thing to scroll through the events in your head or retell them, the other is all to write. This is a huge difference and a lot of work. In the first case, there is no need to pay special attention to all sorts of trivialities and mistakes, but in the second, you need not only to monitor every phrase or expression, but also to try to convey different emotions and behaviors correctly. Also, you need to make every effort to describe your feelings and feelings. It is easy, verbally, to explain in two, three words, it is rather difficult to put it on paper, having correctly chosen the necessary words. And it should be presented beautifully, expressing everything in literary form, so that the reader was not only interesting, but also pleased to read.

Therefore, when I see and read, each new comment becomes very pleasant to me. Even if it is negative. It adds desire, to write further ...

I hope you heard and understood me ...

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I woke up from the loud and indignant voice of my mother.

- Lisa, why are you sleeping? Running to study.

I did not immediately realize what the matter was, but my mother’s attempt to pull the blanket off of me quickly brought me round.

“Mom, to me by ten, an Englishwoman is sick,” realizing, I lied.

“Well, don't care, get up and go for breakfast,” Mom said softerly as she left the room.

While mom was busy in the kitchen, I took a shower and started to dress. Here I have problems ...

Wearing jeans, I felt not the usual tight ass. I looked in the mirror. The view was terrible ... It looked like I piled a bunch of pants ... I began to sort out my wardrobe in a panic, but in the winter you will not accelerate much. Trousers, I immediately said, no ... My choice was on a short flared skirt and a topic. On the street, minus 10, so I had to dig in warm tights and gaiters. I went to them only at home, so that everyone had either elongated knees or holes. Having a little more rummaged, I came across pretty cute stockings. To my pisya not sneezing, I had to wear warm panties. On the feet of the boots on top of a short jacket and I am ready ... Again, looking at myself in the mirror, I was pleased with my new style. He looked somewhat challenging, and would hardly have been approved by my mom. Therefore, shouting to her that I was late and we were singing at school, I quickly ran out the door ...

I got almost no problems, just passed my stop. Therefore, I had to go back, and in order not to be late, I had to hurry. Because of the fast walking, I rubbed the stopper between my buttocks, and by the end of the road I slowed down a step, and all day went a little to the raskoryachku.

The remaining classes flew not noticeably, and I went to a stop with a good mood. It took twenty minutes to wait for the bus, and during that time, quite a lot of people had accumulated. I squeezed to the back door and was missed ahead by a gallant man of thirty, thirty-five. But when I, getting into the bus, hesitated a little, he began to pick me up, behind the ass. I turned around and wanted to be indignant, but at that moment his hand accidentally fell on the cork. The man abruptly pulled his hand up, but when he saw my face burning with shame, he brought it back, and started on, pushing me onto the bus with force, following me. He squeezed me to the rear window, constantly staying behind, and the crowd tightly surrounded us from three sides. I stood, frozen to the glass, and in the meantime a man was studying a subject in my bottom.I was scared that someone from the bus could notice this, and I was afraid to move. My legs became wadded and my whole body sank.

Examining the base and guessing what it is, the man lifted my skirt and grabbed the cork. He bent over my ear and, moving it, began to whisper to me:

- Wow, still very young girl, and already such a slut. Doesn't it hurt you?

I was silent, afraid to say anything.

- That's how? The man asked, and began to pull the cork out of me.

I felt my anus begin to stretch, and open, releasing it. I did not dare to move. But having remembered what was in the bathroom and, fearing that after her, from the priests, all my contents could pour out, I said quietly:

- Do not. You are welcome.

- Good. Then maybe talk?

And I felt the cork coming back.

- Or not?

She began to leave me again.

- I agree.

- Good girl.

Cork back in place.

- What's your name?

“Liza,” I for some reason did not lie.

- Me, Oleg. So you hurt her or not?

- No, I'm already used to it.

- And how are things going with the front part? - Oleg was trying to find out, having rounded me with his hand and putting his hand on my crotch.

“There, I'm still virgin,” I replied, a little embarrassed.

- A mouth?

- Also no.

- As I understand it, there was nothing in the pope except for cork. So? - he did not let up.

- Did not have.

- Do you want to be finally printed out and started to fuck for real?

“... Yes,” I whispered, blushing.

“Maybe they will get me sometime,” Oleg said ironically.

—...

- I don’t have an urgent need to fuck you ..., but with your mouth, I would certainly take advantage ... I would not mind if you made me a blender ... and I am even ready to pay for it .. . What do you think about that... ? As long as you don’t answer ... Think about it ... - Oleg already whispered more seriously. - And for me, it is not necessary to be the first and only. I just want such a beautiful and young creature like you, sometimes to give me pleasure, which I am slightly deprived of, but I really need it.

What was happening ceased to frighten me, and I began to calm down a bit. Noticing this, Oleg put his hand under my panties, and without meeting resistance, began to wade lower. He felt my clit with a finger and slightly pressed, began to gently massage it. A light wave ran through my body. I was so pleased that I relaxed. My head leaned back, and my body leaned forward a bit. These feelings were very different from those when I caressed myself. The help of another person was released from control, and thus made them more vivid.

- Like? - Oleg whispered.

“Yes,” I barely said.

“I see,” and he advanced a finger between my lips and dipped it into juices that were already abundantly distinguished.

- You're already all wet.

I flowed, even despite the fact that saw capsules.

- And so? - Oleg started a finger, gently stroking my pussy, sometimes plunging it a little inside.

“Yes, very much,” I answered in a shaky voice.

“Okay, my stop.” Call me, how do you make up your mind? - he thrust a business card into my pocket and got off the bus, thereby leaving me in complete confusion.

I was driving and thinking about what happened ... What was it? What is going on with me? Once, I was very shy, and now ... That's so easy, just with a slight shyness, I opened up with a man I didn't know, letting me get into pants, and did not even resist when he was rummaging between my legs. And I put up with this vulgarity, which now not only ceased to frighten and embarrass me, but also, giving me the opportunity to receive pleasures, she began to attract me. And the most important thing is that everything happened in public transport, and anyone could see it. And I not only stopped worrying about it, but even considered some attractiveness in it.

Such licentiousness and emancipation appeared as a result of the new sensations I received. They were so bright and not forgotten that they could easily influence and control me, thereby changing me.

And I changed ...

My subconscious was changing, driven by lust, destroying previously existing taboos. My psychology was changing, erasing ...