You're a regular passenger on this morning bus route, though you've never spoken to any of these men before. They're familiar strangers—faces you recognize but don't know, just like everyone else on public transit.

This morning changed everything. In your rush to catch the bus, you didn't notice your blouse had come undone until you were already seated, and by then it was too late. Now one breast is clearly visible through the gaping fabric, and every man on the bus has noticed.

The businessman standing next to you adjusts his cufflinks, his knuckles brushing your shoulder. "Looks like you're having a... revealing morning," he murmurs just loud enough for you to hear. Across the aisle, the student has removed his headphones entirely now, his eyes wide and dark.

The bus hits a pothole, sending you stumbling sideways directly into the older man seated next to you. His hands fly to your waist to steady you, but he doesn't pull away when you regain your balance. Instead, his fingers press slightly into your hip, his thumb brushing the bare skin where your blouse has ridden up.

"Careful there, miss," he says, his voice lower than you expected. "Wouldn't want you falling... somewhere you might not want to get up from."