It was the end of the semester. I had to go back to my hometown in Gujarat for two weeks. Instead of taking the usual train, I made a risky decision.
I booked a sleeper bus for the overnight journey — and I decided to travel as Rohini.
I prepared carefully in my hostel room. I shaved everything smooth, wore a simple but feminine black salwar kameez with a deep neck kameez and padded breasts. Underneath, I had on black lace panties and a matching bra. Light makeup, bindi, and my small gold nose ring with the delicate chain. I tied a dupatta around my chest to look more modest for the journey. With a small bag and my heart pounding, I headed to the bus stand.
The bus was a Volvo semi-sleeper. I had booked a single upper berth on the right side. When I boarded as Rohini, the conductor gave me a long, surprised look but said nothing. A few passengers glanced at me curiously, especially the gold nose ring.
I climbed into my berth, pulled the curtain partially, and tried to calm my nerves.
The Night Journey
The bus left Mumbai around 9 PM. The lights dimmed after some time. I lay on my side, facing the window, when I felt movement near my berth.
A man in his late 30s — well-built, wearing a t-shirt and track pants — had the lower berth directly below me. He stood up, pretending to adjust something, and his hand brushed my exposed ankle. Then it moved higher.
I didn’t pull away.
His hand slowly slid up my leg, under the salwar, caressing my smooth calf, then my thigh. My breathing became shallow. He grew bolder. His fingers reached between my legs and rubbed my lace-covered cock, which was already hard.
He pulled the curtain fully closed around my berth. Then he climbed up partially, his upper body inside my sleeper space.
Without a word, he unzipped his track pants and pulled out his thick, hard cock. He brought it close to my face. The strong masculine scent filled the small space. I hesitated only for a second before opening my mouth and taking him in.
He groaned softly as I sucked him, my head bobbing in the narrow berth. He held my head gently but firmly, fucking my mouth with slow, deep thrusts. My nose ring brushed against his pubic hair every time he pushed deep.
After a few minutes, he pulled out, turned me onto my stomach, and yanked my salwar and panties down to my thighs. He climbed fully into the berth behind me, his body pressing against mine in the tight space.
He spat on his cock and pushed the thick head against my hole.
I bit the pillow hard as he entered me in one long push. The stretch was intense in that cramped position. He started fucking me with deep, steady strokes, his hips slapping quietly against my ass. One of his hands reached around and stroked my cock while the other played with my small padded breasts.
The bus swayed on the highway, adding rhythm to his thrusts. He fucked me for a long time — slow and deep, then faster and rougher. The curtain fluttered slightly with our movements. Anyone walking down the aisle could have easily noticed.
When he was close, he whispered hotly in my ear:
“I’m going to cum inside you.”
He buried himself deep and unloaded — pulse after pulse of hot cum filling my ass. I came at the same time, moaning into the pillow as my own cum soaked the sheet beneath me.
He stayed inside me for several minutes, kissing the back of my neck and playing with my nose ring. Finally, he pulled out, wiped his cock on my dupatta, and climbed back down to his berth without saying another word.
I lay there for the rest of the journey — cum leaking from my well-fucked hole, body trembling, gold nose ring shining in the dim light.
This was no longer just curiosity.
This was who I was becoming.