Man, I still get hard just thinking about it. This happened on one of those packed evening buses – the kind where everyone’s squeezed in like sardines, AC barely working, and the windows are cracked open because it’s hotter than hell. I was sitting near the back, trying to zone out after a long day, when she got on.

Holy fuck, she was stunning. Classic South-East Asian beauty – smooth caramel skin, those sharp cheekbones, full lips that looked like they were made for trouble, and dark almond eyes that could kill you with a glance. She was wearing this intricate batik blouse, all black and gold patterns hugging her curves perfectly. A patterned hijab framed her face, loose strands of black hair peeking out, giving her that innocent-yet-deadly vibe. She looked tired, scrolling her phone before slumping into the seat right in front of me. Prime position. I could see everything.

The bus lurched through traffic, bodies jostling everywhere. People chatting, someone’s kid crying, the usual chaos. No one paying attention to anything but their own shit. Perfect.

She dozed off maybe ten minutes in – head lolling against the window, lips slightly parted, breathing slow and deep. The breeze from the open window played dirty tricks, fluttering her batik blouse open just enough. Button strain? Who cares. Suddenly, there it was: the most mouthwatering cleavage I’d ever seen in real life. Her tits were full, rising and falling with each breath. That deep valley between them? Shadowed and inviting, skin glowing under the passing streetlights. My cock twitched instantly.

Heart pounding like a drum, I glanced around. Old dude asleep two seats over. Couple arguing up front. Driver blasting dangdut music. Nobody looking back here. The risk made it ten times hotter – one wrong move and I’m fucked, literally or legally.

I shifted forward casually, pretending to adjust my bag. My hand – trembling a little, fuck – reached out slow. Fingertips first, brushing the edge of her blouse where it had gaped open. Soft fabric. Warmer skin underneath. She didn’t stir. Emboldened, I let my fingers slip inside, tracing the swell of her breast. So damn smooth, like silk over firm flesh. I could feel the lace edge of her bra, then – jackpot – bare skin. My thumb grazed the top curve of her tit, circling closer to where I knew her nipple would be hiding.

She sighed in her sleep, shifting slightly, and for a split second I froze, dick throbbing painfully against my jeans. But her eyes stayed closed, lips parting more. Safe. I went deeper, cupping the underside of one heavy breast through the bra, feeling its weight in my palm. God, she was perfect – warm, soft, real. My other hand was already undoing my zipper under the cover of my jacket. Pulled my cock out just enough to stroke, slow and slick with precum. Every gentle squeeze of her tit matched a pump of my fist.

The bus hit a pothole – everyone jolted. Her blouse opened wider. I could see the dark edge of her areola now, nipple stiffening in the cool air. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, thumb flicking over it lightly. She moaned – a tiny, sleepy sound that went straight to my balls. My strokes got faster, grip tighter, imagining waking her up with my mouth on those tits, tongue swirling while the whole bus watched.

Swezing, dizzy with adrenaline, I felt her heartbeat under my fingers – fast, matching mine. One more risky squeeze, thumb pressing right on that hard little nipple… and I lost it. Hot cum spilling into my palm, biting back a groan as my hips jerked. She shifted again, murmuring something incoherent, but still out cold.

I pulled back fast, wiping my hand on the underside of the seat like the degenerate I am, zipping up just as the bus lights flickered on for the next stop. She stirred, blinking awake, adjusting her blouse without a clue. Our eyes met for a second in the reflection – hers sleepy, mine probably wild as fuck – and she gave this tiny, shy smile before looking away.

She got off two stops later. Never saw her again.