One day, I had to take a crowded public bus because my electric two-wheeler broke down. Coming from an upper-middle-class family, I wasn’t used to this, and the experience was overwhelming. The bus was packed, but after waiting for nearly an hour, I had no choice but to get on.

As the crowd pushed me toward the men's section, I found myself surrounded by men. Initially, some schoolboys tried to give me space, but once they left, the bus became even more packed. While trying to balance, I suddenly felt a man’s hand brushing against my skirt. At first, I ignored it, thinking it might be accidental due to the crowd, but then it became clear his actions were intentional.

Fortunately, the passenger in front of me stood up, and I quickly took the seat. Soon after, the seat next to me also became vacant, and the man took it. When I looked at him, he seemed like he was from a poor background; his clothes were worn and wrinkled, and he reeked of sweat. At first, he rested his elbow on my upper thigh, leaning over me. I noticed that someone standing nearby was falling on him, so it didn’t seem intentional. However, even after a few minutes, his elbow remained there, and then he started grinding it, moving closer toward my crotch. The pressure caused a slight pain, and when I tried to push him away, he only slid further into my seat.

I had my bag on my lap, which may have hidden what was happening from others. Though I shot him an angry look, he grew bolder, crossing more boundaries. I was paralyzed with fear, worried that if I spoke up, I would be blamed for standing in the general section instead of the designated women's area.

Eventually he slid his fingers inside my panty, making a bold move. I stayed silent for a moment, but when he crossed a line and attempted to go slide his finger inside my vagina, I quickly grabbed his hand and pulled it out of my skirt, squeezing it tightly to show my anger. Almost immediately, his hand returned to my upper thigh, and this time he advanced his hand inside my panty again quickly.

As I didn't stop him he started sliding one of his fingers inside my vagina until it was completely inside, I tried to restrict his movement by clenching my thighs together tightly. Noticing that he made movements using his finger inside my vagina to loosen my hold. When my thigh spread a little, he shoved another finger inside my vagina. At this point I completely lost control over my body, and my legs were automatically spread, letting him finger me as he wished.

After about 7 or 8 minutes, my stop arrived. I quickly pushed his hand away and got off the bus. When I looked back, I saw him deboarding the bus, so I walked as fast as I could, not daring to look back until I reached the my home.As I entered my room and locked the door, my mind was racing with thoughts about what had just happened. Did I allow someone to overstep my boundaries because I felt a moment of pleasure? Guilt began to weigh heavily on me as I reconsidered the choices I had made on the bus, leaving me with a swirl of confusion.

I always imagined that my first experience would be with a prince charming, someone from an upper-middle-class or wealthy background. But when I was molested by man from slums, instead of feeling guilt I felt kind of excited. I couldn't stop thinking about the moment where I spread my legs willing for him, but I just don't watch to accept that fact as accepting it would maked me get labeled as a girl who gets excited by touches from strangers. But, I get wet whenever I think about that incident. I don't understand what's happening with me, what's this feeling. Throughout my life, I have been a good girl but these thoughts are making me rethinking whether I am being true to myself or not.

Should I have skipped my stop and stayed on that bus for longer?