20-10-2024, 02:30 PM
(This post was last modified: 31-10-2024, 10:39 PM by Naruto411. Edited 9 times in total. Edited 9 times in total.)
The train rumbled forward, slicing through the vast stretches of countryside, and the young woman sat by the window, quietly watching the landscape blur by. She wore a deep navy veil dress, its folds neatly tucked around her face, framing her features with grace and modesty. Her shirt, however, screamed something else entirely: "It's Yes Week!" The bold letters were bright white, catching eyes as she moved through the train car earlier.[/font][/size]
She was on a four-day journey, 4,000 kilometers stretched ahead, a solo trip that initially promised to be peaceful. But that shirt—the promise stitched into it—was going to make things anything but.
Across from her sat a group of boys, maybe college age, their eyes flitting between her face and the writing on her chest. She noticed, shifting in her seat, the heat of their gaze palpable even from a few rows away. They looked curious at first, hesitant, like they weren't sure if they should act on what the shirt seemed to be saying. Each of them cast glances at one another, reading the atmosphere, waiting for someone to make the first move.
The day stretched on, the train clattering over rails. As dusk crept in and the golden light streamed through the windows, the tension between their stolen glances and her obliviousness seemed to thicken.
At one point, she excused herself, heading to the small, narrow restroom at the end of the train car. The boys watched her leave, exchanging silent nods, a mix of hesitation and thrill glinting in their eyes. One of them muttered something under his breath, and suddenly they were moving—following.
The hallway outside the restroom was cramped, barely wide enough for a single person. When she came out, surprised to see them waiting, her brow furrowed.
The narrow train corridor echoed with the distant rumble of wheels on steel. The woman, dbangd in her dark navy dress, stepped out of the tiny restroom, straightening her shirt with the bold letters—"It's Yes Week"—emblazoned across her chest. She hadn’t noticed them yet, but the boys had been waiting, gathering their courage in the tight space between the doors, their eyes glued to the shirt's message.
Her eyes widened slightly when she spotted them, a subtle hesitation crossing her face. Three of them stood there, exchanging glances before the one in front spoke up.
“You really gonna say yes to anything?” His voice held an edge, uncertainty mixed with thrill. The words hung heavy in the cramped space, their weight pressing down on the group as they shifted nervously.
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. Then the answer slipped out before she could stop it. "Yes..."
The lead boy stepped forward, the others close behind. They crowded her, too many bodies in such a small space, their excitement palpable in the air. His hand was tentative at first, fingers lightly grazing the hem of her shirt.
“Can I… can I touch you?” His eyes flicked between her face and the words across her chest, like he was still seeking confirmation.
Her heart raced, pounding in her throat. She should stop this. But instead, she felt herself nod. “Yes.”
His hand slipped under her shirt, fingers cold against her warm skin. The breath hitched in her throat as his touch grew bolder, sliding up her stomach. He was shaking a little, but when he reached the edge of her bra, something in him snapped. His fingers pushed beneath the lace, cupping her breast. She gasped at the sudden intimacy of it, her body reacting despite herself.
Another boy stepped closer, his body pressing against her from behind. His breath was hot on her neck as he leaned in, his hand following the first boy’s lead, slipping under her shirt but bolder, fingers pinching her nipple through the thin material of her bra. She whimpered, a sound that seemed to spur them on.
“Say yes,” one of them whispered into her ear, his voice low, dangerous.
“Yes.” The word came out in a shaky breath, a surrender wrapped in inevitability.
They pulled her shirt up, exposing her stomach and then her bra, one of the boys pushing the fabric up to expose her bare skin. Fingers kneaded her breasts, slipping under the cups of her bra to tweak her nipples, hardening them beneath their rough touch. She gasped as the one behind her pressed closer, grinding his growing erection into her ass.
His hands were bolder now, sliding under her dress to brush against her neck, as if testing how much of her he could touch before she pushed back. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.
One of the boys, the leader, pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. "What about a kiss?"
She hesitated, but only for a second. “Yes,” she whispered again, barely audible.
He grabbed her face, roughly pressing his lips against hers. His kiss was clumsy, demanding, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She tasted the heat of his breath as his hand groped her breast, squeezing hard enough to make her moan against his lips.
The boy behind her had slipped a hand under her waistband, fingers creeping lower, teasing the top of her panties. He rubbed against her through the thin fabric, making her knees wobble as he pressed against her harder, his mouth grazing her ear.
Another hand tugged at her shirt, fully pulling it over her head, leaving her in her bra and jeans in the dim light of the train’s hallway. Her dress remained, framing her flushed face, but they didn’t seem to care about that. Their hands were everywhere now—roaming over her body, kneading her breasts, rubbing her stomach, groping her ass, the fabric of her jeans doing little to shield her from their eager fingers.
“You like this?” one of them whispered, his hand sliding under her bra again to pinch her nipple.
She swallowed hard, her body trembling under their touch. “Y-Yes…”
Her voice had barely left her lips when one of them grabbed her wrist, guiding her hand down to the bulge in his pants. He pressed her palm against it, making her feel how hard he was through the fabric. She could feel him twitch beneath her hand, the thick ridge straining against his jeans.
“Then how about you suck it?” His voice was a mix of lust and disbelief that this was actually happening.
She froze, her breath catching in her throat, eyes wide as they searched his face. He pulled her hand tighter around his cock, unzipping his pants and freeing it. It jutted out, thick and hard, his hand guiding her head down. She hesitated, but that word—the one written across her chest—stopped her.
“Yes,” she whispered, defeated.
Her mouth opened, lips brushing the tip before she took him in, warm and wet, her body moving on autopilot as she started sucking. His groans filled the narrow space as her tongue swirled around the head, her hand pumping the base in rhythm with her mouth.
Behind her, the others watched, one of them still pressing himself against her back, his hands on her hips, grinding slowly, deliberately, as if waiting for his turn.
“Fuck, she’s really doing it,” one of the boys breathed, his hand slipping into her pants now, fingers pressing against her soaked panties.
The boy in her mouth thrust forward, forcing himself deeper down her throat, making her gag slightly as he buried himself inside her. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she kept going, her body working mechanically, mouth sliding up and down his length.
He grunted, his hips jerking as he held her head, thrusting deeper until he couldn’t hold back anymore. His cock twitched, and with a groan, he came, spilling into her mouth. She gagged, swallowing reflexively, feeling the warmth spread down her throat.
When he pulled out, the others exchanged glances, the tension still thick in the air. But they knew they had time.
Later, when they returned to the seats, they pulled a blanket over her, her body sandwiched between theirs. One of them, the boy who had kissed her first, slid his hand under the blanket, fingers trailing up her thigh, slipping beneath her jeans again. She squirmed but couldn’t escape, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing slow circles.
At night, when the lights were dimmed and most of the train car had fallen asleep, one of them curled up behind her, spooning her. His erection pressed against her ass, hot and insistent. His hand slipped under her shirt again, rubbing slow circles on her stomach.
“Take off your clothes,” he whispered into her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
She swallowed, feeling the weight of his body behind her, his cock pressing against her even harder now. “Yes,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she began to peel off her clothes beneath the blanket.
Once she was fully naked, her body exposed to him, he shifted, his cock rubbing against her bare ass. His hand slipped between her legs, fingers dipping into her wetness.
“Can I fuck you?” His voice was low, a growl in her ear.
There was no hesitation this time.
“Yes.”
This is a short story I will complete this by the end of the day and I tried to translate this into my mother tongue but failed to capture the essence as I used Google translator
She was on a four-day journey, 4,000 kilometers stretched ahead, a solo trip that initially promised to be peaceful. But that shirt—the promise stitched into it—was going to make things anything but.
Across from her sat a group of boys, maybe college age, their eyes flitting between her face and the writing on her chest. She noticed, shifting in her seat, the heat of their gaze palpable even from a few rows away. They looked curious at first, hesitant, like they weren't sure if they should act on what the shirt seemed to be saying. Each of them cast glances at one another, reading the atmosphere, waiting for someone to make the first move.
The day stretched on, the train clattering over rails. As dusk crept in and the golden light streamed through the windows, the tension between their stolen glances and her obliviousness seemed to thicken.
At one point, she excused herself, heading to the small, narrow restroom at the end of the train car. The boys watched her leave, exchanging silent nods, a mix of hesitation and thrill glinting in their eyes. One of them muttered something under his breath, and suddenly they were moving—following.
The hallway outside the restroom was cramped, barely wide enough for a single person. When she came out, surprised to see them waiting, her brow furrowed.
The narrow train corridor echoed with the distant rumble of wheels on steel. The woman, dbangd in her dark navy dress, stepped out of the tiny restroom, straightening her shirt with the bold letters—"It's Yes Week"—emblazoned across her chest. She hadn’t noticed them yet, but the boys had been waiting, gathering their courage in the tight space between the doors, their eyes glued to the shirt's message.
Her eyes widened slightly when she spotted them, a subtle hesitation crossing her face. Three of them stood there, exchanging glances before the one in front spoke up.
“You really gonna say yes to anything?” His voice held an edge, uncertainty mixed with thrill. The words hung heavy in the cramped space, their weight pressing down on the group as they shifted nervously.
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. Then the answer slipped out before she could stop it. "Yes..."
The lead boy stepped forward, the others close behind. They crowded her, too many bodies in such a small space, their excitement palpable in the air. His hand was tentative at first, fingers lightly grazing the hem of her shirt.
“Can I… can I touch you?” His eyes flicked between her face and the words across her chest, like he was still seeking confirmation.
Her heart raced, pounding in her throat. She should stop this. But instead, she felt herself nod. “Yes.”
His hand slipped under her shirt, fingers cold against her warm skin. The breath hitched in her throat as his touch grew bolder, sliding up her stomach. He was shaking a little, but when he reached the edge of her bra, something in him snapped. His fingers pushed beneath the lace, cupping her breast. She gasped at the sudden intimacy of it, her body reacting despite herself.
Another boy stepped closer, his body pressing against her from behind. His breath was hot on her neck as he leaned in, his hand following the first boy’s lead, slipping under her shirt but bolder, fingers pinching her nipple through the thin material of her bra. She whimpered, a sound that seemed to spur them on.
“Say yes,” one of them whispered into her ear, his voice low, dangerous.
“Yes.” The word came out in a shaky breath, a surrender wrapped in inevitability.
They pulled her shirt up, exposing her stomach and then her bra, one of the boys pushing the fabric up to expose her bare skin. Fingers kneaded her breasts, slipping under the cups of her bra to tweak her nipples, hardening them beneath their rough touch. She gasped as the one behind her pressed closer, grinding his growing erection into her ass.
His hands were bolder now, sliding under her dress to brush against her neck, as if testing how much of her he could touch before she pushed back. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.
One of the boys, the leader, pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. "What about a kiss?"
She hesitated, but only for a second. “Yes,” she whispered again, barely audible.
He grabbed her face, roughly pressing his lips against hers. His kiss was clumsy, demanding, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She tasted the heat of his breath as his hand groped her breast, squeezing hard enough to make her moan against his lips.
The boy behind her had slipped a hand under her waistband, fingers creeping lower, teasing the top of her panties. He rubbed against her through the thin fabric, making her knees wobble as he pressed against her harder, his mouth grazing her ear.
Another hand tugged at her shirt, fully pulling it over her head, leaving her in her bra and jeans in the dim light of the train’s hallway. Her dress remained, framing her flushed face, but they didn’t seem to care about that. Their hands were everywhere now—roaming over her body, kneading her breasts, rubbing her stomach, groping her ass, the fabric of her jeans doing little to shield her from their eager fingers.
“You like this?” one of them whispered, his hand sliding under her bra again to pinch her nipple.
She swallowed hard, her body trembling under their touch. “Y-Yes…”
Her voice had barely left her lips when one of them grabbed her wrist, guiding her hand down to the bulge in his pants. He pressed her palm against it, making her feel how hard he was through the fabric. She could feel him twitch beneath her hand, the thick ridge straining against his jeans.
“Then how about you suck it?” His voice was a mix of lust and disbelief that this was actually happening.
She froze, her breath catching in her throat, eyes wide as they searched his face. He pulled her hand tighter around his cock, unzipping his pants and freeing it. It jutted out, thick and hard, his hand guiding her head down. She hesitated, but that word—the one written across her chest—stopped her.
“Yes,” she whispered, defeated.
Her mouth opened, lips brushing the tip before she took him in, warm and wet, her body moving on autopilot as she started sucking. His groans filled the narrow space as her tongue swirled around the head, her hand pumping the base in rhythm with her mouth.
Behind her, the others watched, one of them still pressing himself against her back, his hands on her hips, grinding slowly, deliberately, as if waiting for his turn.
“Fuck, she’s really doing it,” one of the boys breathed, his hand slipping into her pants now, fingers pressing against her soaked panties.
The boy in her mouth thrust forward, forcing himself deeper down her throat, making her gag slightly as he buried himself inside her. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she kept going, her body working mechanically, mouth sliding up and down his length.
He grunted, his hips jerking as he held her head, thrusting deeper until he couldn’t hold back anymore. His cock twitched, and with a groan, he came, spilling into her mouth. She gagged, swallowing reflexively, feeling the warmth spread down her throat.
When he pulled out, the others exchanged glances, the tension still thick in the air. But they knew they had time.
Later, when they returned to the seats, they pulled a blanket over her, her body sandwiched between theirs. One of them, the boy who had kissed her first, slid his hand under the blanket, fingers trailing up her thigh, slipping beneath her jeans again. She squirmed but couldn’t escape, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing slow circles.
At night, when the lights were dimmed and most of the train car had fallen asleep, one of them curled up behind her, spooning her. His erection pressed against her ass, hot and insistent. His hand slipped under her shirt again, rubbing slow circles on her stomach.
“Take off your clothes,” he whispered into her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
She swallowed, feeling the weight of his body behind her, his cock pressing against her even harder now. “Yes,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she began to peel off her clothes beneath the blanket.
Once she was fully naked, her body exposed to him, he shifted, his cock rubbing against her bare ass. His hand slipped between her legs, fingers dipping into her wetness.
“Can I fuck you?” His voice was low, a growl in her ear.
There was no hesitation this time.
“Yes.”
This is a short story I will complete this by the end of the day and I tried to translate this into my mother tongue but failed to capture the essence as I used Google translator
Feel free to critique 
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