Subway Perv

‘I'm a wild teenager. The kind that terrifies my mum. So she found the only place left to chain a girl like me— the convent.’“Oh, my god.” My face is red with spots other than my freckles. It happens whenever I’m panicking. I’m about to throw up and it also seems like I’d pass out. “The convent as a nun? Mum?” My thin voice breaks out. I'm sitting in the front seat of our small rickety car, waiting for my mum, only to find the letter from the mother superior, inviting me to come to the convent for formation in a month’s time. “Jesus,” my mum snatches the letter from me and starts folding it. “You’re not supposed to see that.”I didn't even know when she got in. Still in shock, I just mop and stare at her. Blonde hair, pretty face, I’m nothing like her. My orange hair is thanks to my Scottish dad, blue eyes, pale skin, and freckles. And unlike my conservative mum, I’m liberal. “You faked my application to the convent as a nun?” I scoff. “That’s…”“For your good, Isla.” She shuts

I tilt my granny’s hat to the side, dressed like the '90s women going for soul winning. Yup, you guessed right, mum single-handedly picked the dress for me. In her words, it will make the Mother Superior pleased. After the ultimatum of staying with my dad, she is trying so hard to send me to isolation as soon as possible.“Be of good conduct,” she palms my face, her eyes narrow with a warm smile. “Hun, you’ve got this.” “Love you.” She kisses my forehead before dashing out, dressed in her blue scrubs. Since she swapped shifts with her colleague last night, she has to work this morning. Once her car crawls out of the yard, I hurriedly strip and shove the gown and the old lady’s hat in my bag. There’s no way ai’m looking like a clown in public. Then I pick out my favorite high-waist, black and white chequered skirt, which barely covers my bum cheeks. So nasty that if I bend a little, I’d serve you my ass on a hot platter. I tuck in my long-sleeve white top that hugs my big breasts, c

The incessant murmuring in the bus pulls my attention to see a group of men pulling out their phones to record me. ‘Oh, god!’ My stomach churns. ‘No. Please…’ I'm not sure what miracle I’m praying for, but this would break my mum. In time, a broad figure in a thick black hoodie slips in front of me, shielding me from the flashes of their cameras. The stranger! I don't hesitate to hug him from behind, panicking. My pale face slowly turns red.“Get off, man.” Some groan in frustration. I cling tighter, inhaling the mix of his hood and sweat through his hoodie. The sense of peace is oddly satisfying that I push up, feeding him with my hard tits, pushing hard that the buttons of my shirt threaten to snap.His muscles harden. Like he feels me…And wants me. With their voice slowly dying off until the place feels empty, he steps away from me, breaking the tension. Mute, he pulls out his handkerchief and hands it to me. “Thanks,” I mumble, eyes desperately digging through his mask t

‘I’ve promised to do anything for my mum, give up anything. But this… Let her fuck my man…’Ignorant of my presence, my mum moans beside Enzo Macini, the man who should be mine. Only mine. I feel my heart muscles squeeze so hard in my chest. Tears flood my vision. Heartbroken, I lean against the wall, away from their view, and I let the tears roll. I’m not sure if I should burst in and ruin their little make-out session.Her soft moans grow louder, and so do his hands on her body as he strokes, gently, tenderly. My toes wriggle as if I’m the one being teased… as if his hand slides between my legs and runs up my thighs…“Stop...” My mum’s voice breaks the sensual rhythm. She sounds like she’s about to cry. “It hurts.”My tears dramatically stop rolling. I look back at the supposed couple to see that my mum has pulled back to the edge of the couch, nursing her right leg. She is gloomy, pained.‘Oh, Isla.’ I sigh in my head. ‘Not your mum having intense pain from long hours on her fe

The masked man pulls out his gloved fingers from my pussy, and my baggy jeans. So swift.So clean that no one dares suspect him.While I bear the brunt of his dirty fucking, of the intense thrust of his fingers, and rough rub of his gloves on my bruised pussy. I clasp my legs firmly, staring at my mum’s wide eyes.“I’m. Fine. Mum.” I count my words and swallow cool air. My teeth grit from the hard clenching of my jaw. It’s hard to release the heat in soft vibrations instead of a full-blown convulsion.As if completely exonerating himself, he steps back a few inches from me. ‘Lord, have mercy.’ I sigh and look forward, figuring that ignoring my mum will save me better.All I have to worry about is the dripping wetness between my thighs that has formed dark patches on my bright-blue jeans. I press my bag firmly to my body, shielding the mess from being seen. My hand rubs along the bag and stops on touching something hard. My water bottle!‘Just right!’ In good relief, my shaky hand