0 comments/ 35106 views/ 1 favorites Night Bus By: Dream Undone Wrapped as ever I was in my own little world of depressive city life, I rode the bus home without a thought to spare for anything or anyone. I'd sit on the top deck on this journey as I was invariably the last to exit. My stop was the last and I usually left on my own feeling suitably alone as I walked the five minutes to my tiny flat for another great night of doing nothing. Last Friday was an exception. Last Friday something dragged me out of my insular ponderings. Last Friday I was mildly annoyed that I shared the top deck with two giggling girls who seemed for all the world to want everyone everywhere to notice their existence. Between raucous giggles and intrusive phone calls I was ready to throw them both out of the window when I suddenly realised that things had turned suspiciously quiet. I could sense that they were talking about me and was trying to put it down to paranoia although my mind wouldn't let me. I knew that they were having a laugh at my expense and my blood started boiling. Well in a way I was right, they were indeed talking about me, I had no idea though of what until one of them stood up giggling and cautious approaching me with a nervous grin on her face. Her companion stared on as if unable to believe her friend was doing this. As she approached I was, apart from stunned and paranoid that I was to be the focus of their joke, startled to see that they weren't as young as their actions so far had demonstrated. The girl approaching must have been in her early twenties but her immaturity just annoyed me. "Um…" she started as she looked to her friend for reassurance. "Hi. I'm Jen." Jen held out her hand and I warily shook it, "Sam," I introduced myself waiting for the joke she was going to play. "Sam, um…" once more she looked to her friend who was silently egging her on. "Can I…I mean we are um…" Intrigued but getting more frustrated not knowing what was going on I watched as she kept glancing back to her friend who was now sitting there in shock it looked like. Jen looked like she was ready to bolt a couple of times but stayed and took a deep breath. "Cheryl and I are um… we're having a, thing is I've got a dare I have to… um…" Now things were making sense. I could smell the alcohol on her breath although she wasn't drunk. These two were just playing games and I couldn't help but wonder if they involved sex. They did. Jen leaned in close and blushing furiously said, "Will you let me suck you?" Well it was my turn to blush and stammer. My brain was starting to melt. "Um, well, what? I er…" I looked to Jen's friend, Cheryl, to see her wide eyed covering her mouth with her hand. She wasn't giggling anymore, this was serious. "Oh god…" Jen bit her lip as if wondering what the hell she was doing. "Why do you want, I mean, what… why me? What's the…" "It's just a dare," Jen almost pouted. "I have to." Before I could have a stern talking to with myself about this and the possible repercussions and various other factors of common decency, my mouth said, "Okay then." Which seemed to freeze Jen completely. I watched for a while as she paled and steeled herself to do this and was shocked when she suddenly reached out to fumble with my jeans. "Right," she said. "I can do this!" She giggled nervously while she was trying to unbuckle my belt and unbutton my jeans while I just sat there and let it happen. "Oh my god…" I heard Cheryl say as Jen freed my cock and held it growing in her hand. Hesitating for a moment, Jen stared between my legs before lowering her head and gently taking the tip into her mouth. She stayed like that for a while as she gently moved her hand up and down, twisting slightly. Without warning she swiftly took as much of me as she could while holding the base and began slowly bobbing her head as she was masturbating me. I grabbed her shoulder and urged her on as I looked Cheryl straight in the eyes as if to say, "What are YOU going to do for me?" Jen was moaning slightly as I sensed her jaw getting tired and she pulled back a bit to bring me off with her hand while she rested. This change to a faster pace brought me close and my fingers digging into her shoulder must have given her the hint that I was about to come. Without any hesitation this time her mouth was once more surrounding my cock as I felt my orgasm build and grow more urgent for release. Holding back by willpower alone I was on the edge of screaming when Jen went all out to make me explode. Abandoning myself totally I bucked and jolted as Jen held on and took my semen, struggling to swallow. As my thrusts subsided, Jen found it easier to take what remained and looked relieved as she could breathe properly again. She made sure that I was finished before she let herself take her mouth away. Swallowing one last time, she said, "Um, thank you!" before hurrying back to Cheryl who looked in awe of her friend that she really went through with it. I watched them as they went into a huddle and I put myself away trying not to grin like an idiot at what just happened. Thankfully they were quiet after that and my journey continued as it had before with me left to my own thoughts blocking out everyone and everything. Eventually I was dragged back into the real world by a muffled, "No!" and I looked up startled to see Cheryl looking at me like a scared rabbit. Was it her turn to give me a blowjob? I wondered. I tried to ignore them. I'd already had an orgasm and all I wanted to do now was go home to sleep but my body was betraying me. Cheryl wasn't as thin as Jen and had full, wonderfully pouty, lips that I craved to see sucking me off. Squirming in my seat, I tried to look nonchalant as inevitably Cheryl stood up, swaying with the movement of the bus, and came up to me with trepidation. "Hello," she started. "Hiya," I smiled, anticipation starting to become obvious. "Um, can you…" Cheryl indicated my jeans half miming taking them off. "Er, okay, yeah of course." I obliged by unbuckling, unbuttoning and pulling them down. Her eyes widened as she saw how ready I was for her own dare although mine widened more when I saw what she did next. Hitching up her skirt, she pulled down her g-string, turned her back on me and settled onto my lap. After a moment of getting into position, she guided me inside her. Her juices were already in abundance and I slid in with barely any difficulty. Cheryl grabbed the backs of the seats in front of us and writhed around until it was comfortable for her to take me all the way in. "Oh," she sighed as she used my cock to please herself. I must have moaned in pleasure at that point because she half turned and almost purred, "You like that, yeah?" "Oh yes," I exhaled and started pushing into her. Still holding the seats, Cheryl started bouncing on my lap sliding on and off me as I held on to her hips meeting her downward motion with a thrust. A rhythm was soon established that increased in pace and passion until I could feel the sensation of reaching the point-of-no-return rising from within. "Oh yes," I repeated, my vocabulary deserting my now primal brain. "Oh yes!" "Yeah?" Cheryl panted. Here it came again, that feeling of pure ecstasy, trying to hold until the last possible moment, a sweet torture, my breath frozen… With a gasp of relief I thrust one last time deep and hard into her as I felt myself shoot again and again. I held her tight to me not wanting to let go until I had well and truly finished coming into this wonderful stranger. She struggled to get up but I held her in place feeling for all the world like she now belonged to me. "Oh my god," she said wriggling. "He came in me! Oh god!" Reluctantly I let her go feeling the ever present loneliness rushing back to me. I felt abandoned. Abandoned but fulfilled. They both left at the stop before mine, Cheryl waving a quick goodbye before running out. Jen pausing to give me a sly grin hinting at the possibility of more to come. I smiled then to myself. Maybe I wasn't totally alone… Night Bus I never looked forward to the night bus home from college. It was a long, boring bus ride, 5 hours to Dayton, and then another half hour taxi ride to my moms' house from the bus depot. There is nothing quite so ugly as the Dayton bus depot at 3 in the morning. The bus was often full. At best, I would get a window and an empty seat next to me. At worst, the thing that I dreaded, a drunk fat guy would sit down next to me and want to talk. On this particular night, I found an empty row, took my seat, turned on my walkman, and opened my book. If luck was with me, the seat next to me would stay empty, and I would be able to sleep for most of the ride. "Excuse me, is this seat taken?" It was a soft voice, a female voice, with a lazy southern drawl. The voice belonged to an Asian girl, about my own age. She was pretty, short and curvy. She had short black hair, a round face, and lovely bright hazel eyes. Her ears were pierced multiple times, and she sported a little silver septum ring. Her largish breasts were confined inside a man's white button down shirt, and she wore a black miniskirt. "Please" I said, putting down my book, "Sit down." I was relieved that I wouldn't have to sit down next to a lonely middle-aged man with an unhappy marriage to tell me about. Plus, I thought she was cute as hell. As the bus rolled out of the station, we talked a little. We were the same age. Her name was Mitsko, she was from Georgia, and she was taking a year off from school to work. She never told me, and I never asked, why she was taking the night bus to Dayton. As the bus cruised along the interstate and its diesel engine droned on and on, as the Midwestern night settled down all around us, we stopped talking, and rode silently through the night. I felt sleepy, and it felt nice to be pressed against her warm body. I don't know who started it, or how it started, but suddenly Mitsko and I were kissing. We kissed passionately, silently, exploring each other with tongue and lips and breath. I cupped her ample breast with my hand as I deeply kissed her, letting my tongue slip into her mouth, feeling her kiss me back with an intensity that matched my own. I hadn't been touched in months, and I could feel the physical need in the hot wetness between my legs. We seemed to be all alone in the world. I felt her fumbling with the fly of my jeans. The bus was entirely dark. The only light came was reflected back from the headlights, and the dim emergency lights along the center isle. I unbuttoned my jeans and, raising my butt, squirmed out of my panties, letting them fall around my ankles. I lay my jacket down on my lap to partially shield myself. I felt naked and exposed. Nobody could see me, really, but I was surrounded by strangers, almost all of them male. The sense of danger made it extra exciting. Mitsko put her finger to her lips in a "Shush" gesture, and wiggled out of her own panties. I caught a flash of white silk as she stuffed them into her handbag. Then she guided my eager hand under her skirt, between her thighs. I don't know how much time passed as we silently fingered each other to orgasm after orgasm. She was wet when my fingers found her sex, and she opened up to me like a flower. As I circled her hard little clit, she finger fucked me into ecstasy, sliding two fingers deep inside my vagina, and pressing her palm down into my mons in a way that drove me crazy. We kissed and kissed, silencing each others soft moans as we orgasmed. My pussy spasmed again and again. It seemed like I would never stop coming. Eventually, we were sated. I licked my sticky juices off her fingers as she sucked mine like a little cock. I pulled up and buttoned my jeans. She curled up and slept with her head in my lap, like a little girl. Before I too went to sleep, I wrote my phone number down on the back of my bus ticket receipt, and slipped it into her handbag. When my eyes opened again, we were in Dayton, and the bus was unloading. The harsh glare of the fluorescents hurt my eyes. I had left a big wet spot on the seat. Mistko and I got off the bus and headed in separate directions. I hoped she might call that week, but she never did. I masturbated many times to that night, until it took on a dreamlike quality, and I was almost unsure whether it had really happened or not. Fast forward seven years. I am living by myself in a studio apartment in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, working as a freelancer, and balancing the knife edge between poverty and relative affluence. For the first time in my life, I'm not constantly broke, I can afford not to have a roommate, and I bought myself a nice computer and an ipod. On the other hand, a slow month could ruin me. I can't afford health insurance. It is a stressful lifestyle. I am in the shower when my cell phone rings. Dripping wet, I get out, wrap a towel around myself, and check who is calling. I can't afford to miss out on work. It is a number that I don't recognize. That is not unusual. I answer the phone. "Hello." "Hello, is this Andrea?" It is a woman's voice, a soft voice with a southern drawl. I don't know who it belongs too, but I feel like I should recognize it. "This is Mitsko." The voice says, and all of a sudden I remember. "We rode the bus together a long time ago." My knees feel weak. Memories come rushing back. I don't know what to say. "I hope you don't mind me calling. I don't know if you remember me. I've never forgotten you, but I was always too afraid to call." "How... How did you get this number?" "I called the number that you gave me. I told your mother that I was a friend of yours from school. She gave me your cell number. I hope that's ok." "Of course it's ok. It's great to hear from you! Where are you now?" "That's the great thing! I live in New York City now. I was so excited when your mom told me you were here too!" "I can't believe it, that's great! Would you" I take a deep breath "would you like to get together?" "I'd love that." She says, and my heart races. I mention a bar near my apartment, the first stop on the L train. She asks me what I'm doing tonight. I say nothing. She says she'll meet me there in an hour. I recognize her at once. She hasn't changed, not really. She wears her hair in pigtails now, with the tips died blue. Her arms are half sleeved with tattoos, dragons writhing together in an act of violence or copulation. Otherwise, she is dressed in business clothes, an ankle length black skirt, and a black top with spaghetti straps that shows off her cleavage without quiet being immodest. She no longer wears the nose ring, but I think her ears have even more piercings than before. She is beautiful. We have a beer and we talk. She has been married and divorced. She has been living in New York a little less than a year. She works in information technology. She lost her job in 2001, but she got hired by a different firm, and moved here last fall. I tell her about my own life. We drink a beer, and another. We have finished our second beer. Suddenly neither of us seems to be able to find anything to say. I look into her eyes, still as bright and brown and alive as they were that night seven years ago. "I think" I say, the buzz of the alcohol smoothing away my inhibitions "That I need to take you home with me now." We walk back to my place, hand in hand. My nipples are poking out of my bra, my pussy is on fire. I manage to restrain myself until my front door. As I try to find the key, we are suddenly all over each other, kissing and squeezing and rubbing, kissing as if it is the end of the world. Finally I manage to get the door open. We fall inside, and onto the futon. Then we are kissing in earnest. Clothes go flying. I can barely stand to remove my mouth from hers, but I want to explore her body. Her breasts are beautiful, large and round, with small brown nipples. Her tummy is round and soft. Her ass is delightful, a pale full moon, soft and supple, a joy to touch and to kiss. Her pubes are completely bare, and a tiny silver ring glitters just above her pink clitoris. I need to taste her. My naked body slides down hers until I am between her thighs. I can feel the heat radiating from her pussy. I lick her up and down, slathering her with my tongue from her asshole to her clit. I tug gently on her ring with my teeth. She moans and arches her back, offering herself to me totally. I suck on her clit and fuck her pussy with first one, then two and three, then finally four fingers. She comes, her belly shaking, her cunt grasping and pulling at my fingers. Then she eats me. It is amazing. I don't ever want it to stop. She has two fingers in my asshole and two in my pussy as her tongue is glued to my clit. I start to come, and it just goes on and on, like rolling thunder beyond the horizon. "Mitsko" I say when I can speak again "I really need you to do something for me." She looks into my eyes and nods. I go on. I can't believe the words that are coming out of my mouth, but I need her to hear them, so I speak clearly and deliberately. "There is a box under my bed. In the box there is a harness and a number of dildos. I need you to get the harness, to put it on, and to pick out a dildo. Bring the bottle of lube back here with you. Then I need you to fuck me in the ass. Will you do that for me?" She nods and goes into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. I realize that I am blushing. It takes her a few minutes. I worry. I hope she doesn't think it's too weird. We don't even know each other really. We've only ever met twice. She comes back into the room, and she is wearing the harness. My black silicone dildo projects incongruously from her crotch, bobbing as she walks. I think she looks incredibly sexy. I've had the black one in my asshole before, but only by myself, flat on my back in the bathtub, with plenty of lube. It isn't the one I would have chosen for my first time to be fucked in the ass, but I am glad she chose it. I get on my hands and knees in front of the futon, laying my head on the couch. Together we pour lube all over the dildo, and make my asshole nice and slippery. The lube is cold on my flesh, and makes me shiver with anticipation. Her fingers feel sexy pressing against my anus, opening me up like a night flower. She kisses me. "I think this is so sexy" she drawls, pressing the head of the artificial penis against my anus. I can feel her breasts pressing against the bare skin of my back. I spread my cheeks wide, and bear down against her. I can feel it entering me, and for a moment, I don't know if I can take it. "Wait a second. Don't move." My body relaxes. "Go slowly" I say "I want to feel you inside me." She presses forward, and the dildo slides up my asshole. I feel stretched out, incredibly full. I feel wetness running down my thighs, and I realize that it is leaking out of my pussy. I feel her hips pressed against my buttocks, and she whispers in my ear "It's all the way in." The dildo feels weird, all the way up inside my bowels. I whisper back to her "Fuck me." Slowly, tentatively at first, she fucks my ass. It feels so good, I moan out loud. It doesn't hurt, not at all. I am a little surprised. "Harder" I say. As she gains confidence, she fucks me harder and faster until she is slamming my ass. She slaps me hard, beating each cheek with her bare hand until it feels like they are on fire. Each stinging slap sends a shiver of pleasure through my entire body. She grabs a handful of my hair, pulling and twisting without mercy until I can just shout out "Yes! Yes!" As she yanks my hair, riding my ass like a cowgirl, she reaches under me and finds my engorged clit. She tweaks and rubs my button, slipping two fingers into my tight cunt and diddling my clit with her thumb. It drives me crazy. I buck and twist, fucking back against her, swearing like a sailor. I come so hard that I almost black out. I come again, and yet again. I realize that I am crying. We let the dildo slip out of my tender asshole. We kiss for a long time. I fuck her again, making her come with my fingers. We find our way to bed, where we sleep intertwined, sweaty and sticky and warm and wet. We shower together the next morning. She has to go to work. We have coffee. She leaves. I realize that I never asked her for her phone number. I hope that she calls again soon. Night Bus The Night Bus The northern Ohio landscape is monotonous, the sky hangs low and grey in the winter, and the air has a palpable texture some days. You can't always decide on the scenery of your emotional attachment, though, and this depressing backdrop has drawn me back again. Not home, but college-home. It is March and two months from now marks the second year of my graduation from Oberlin College. This is the awkward time after you are expelled from the book womb. My bus ticket includes free stop-overs, affording me a chance to re-connect with college friends who have spread themselves out between my home in Green Bay and my destination in southern Maine. After a day in Madison and two days in Chicago, I went back to Oberlin to see my friend Peter. Installed in his temporary but regal fellowship back at the College, he was taking advantage of every opportunity on his return from teaching English in rural China. Lately, the opportunity was short, Latina, really friendly and capable of moaning on volume 9 when making love in the middle of the night—repeatedly. Peter gave me a ride to the Cleveland bus station, so I could catch an express to Boston. I have a few friends in graduate school there, including an ex-girlfriend whose perfect blow job on top of a bunch of dirty clothes in a closet is the memory I often use at that go-to moment when it is the bed, me and a hard-on demanding release. A Bowl With Two Green Apples There are at least fifteen folks hanging around the east-bound express part of Cleveland's bus station purgatory. This crowd includes me, thirteen diverse individuals, and a young woman whose every movement I am trying to track without being noticed (by her, by anyone?). She is on the tall side, light brown hair, green eyes, and sort of an athletic build, but not quite. She has neither a pretty face nor the opposite. She has professor glasses, is reading Joan Didion and is wearing a pair of red Converse. Translation: smart, on the way to be over-educated, urban-liberal. Comfortable territory. And this-- an absolutely stunning set of smaller, pert and unencumbered breasts inside her button-down Oxford shirt. One more look at that Oxford and I have a growing erection. I try willing into flaccidity so as to avoid the public humiliation of tented corduroys. I notice we have the same Mickey watch. "Nice watch," I say to her, trying to be casual and familiar while holding out my arm with the same. "Oh, thanks. It's fun when..." Then she notices I am trying to call attention to our similar attire. She blushes at her unawareness. For a guy trying to establish some sort of connection, this tiny gaff is a gift. A slight embarrassment is a slight vulnerability is a chance to trust. "It is fun," pretending no conversational faux pas has occurred, "and it screams 'I forgot to grow up,' which works for me. I'm heading to Boston and then up to Nashua and hiking with a buddy. You?" "I'm going back home to New York—more White Plains, really. I was just visiting a friend at Oberlin—it's about 35 miles..." "...southwest of here," I finish. "Same with me. Peter, my friend, just drove me up here about an hour ago. Is your friend a student, I presume?" "Yeah. Becca Boardman." I shrug non-recognition. "We went to high school together. She is a senior studio art major at Oberlin. Do you go there?" "Did until a couple of years ago. Now I am a highly sought after liberal arts, ecology studies B.A." She rewards me with a small laugh. "And you?" "I'm at Swarthmore, on break. I have no frickin' notion what I am studying other than anything that interests me and too many courses that don't. I think dilettante is my official major. I'm a first semester senior because I took off this fall to work on the Kerry campaign." "That's a plus on my list. I'm trying to save the planet from global environmental destruction. So far, it's been a complete losing deal." She commiserates: "You may have noticed that my venture didn't exactly end in triumph." "Well, at least I sleep easy knowing I voted twelve times. A small felony in service of country." Then it happens. A big grin. Complete with dimples, a special touch of shyness and a warmth that grabs me and shrinks the space between us. I smile back without any self-consciousness. She continues: "I haven't gotten your name. I'm Julie." "I'm Zachary McCarthy," I state in a bit of too formal a tone for the nice moment we just shared. "My last name is Scottish, as well-- Arneson." "I don't think that is..." is out before I realize she is squaring the score on obliviousness to social cues. I laugh and add, "We're even." We are deep into discussing her novel, in which finding common ground is remarkably easy, when the bus pulls up. We get a little off center from each other as we gather our bags and board, during which time a big guy fills the gap in the line between Julie and me. Julie is first on board, large guy with the International Harvester cap next, and me third. I am fairly certain that the sexual attraction is mutual at this point. I caught her checking out my legs and tight butt (my best feature) when I picked up my bag. I am hoping two empty seats are together. But no such luck. Julie takes a seat in the middle to back, big dude goes in two rows ahead of her, and I do the only thing left and grab the seat across from Julie. It is about 10:00p.m. and the bus heads toward New York City anticipating a dawn arrival. An Island With Too Much View Julie and I chatter away about everything across the aisle. I am so smitten with her that I would work hard to find any common ground, but there is no effort required. She and I share the same interests and perspectives. We both have to drag friends to slow-moving foreign films with subtitles, we both like to get around by bike, and we love to grow vegetables and spend an entire day planning and cooking a beautiful meal for friends. After about 40 minutes of this, the guy next to me says in the tone of an annoyed long-distance bus rider, "would you two please shut up and let me sleep?." I can't really blame him. We have been utterly without heed to anyone else. "How about if you switch seats with my girlfriend? We couldn't find seats together when we got on the bus." I don't look at Julie but she sees where this is going and remains silent about the girlfriend part—maybe she likes it. "We'll talk quietly then and let you sleep." He mulls the offer. On the one hand, we are really bugging him and this will give him a little distance. On the other, I am proposing he exchange a window seat next a young woman for an aisle next to an old dude on an overnight trip. Likely his annoyance, perhaps some compassion for us, wins out and Julie slides into the window seat next me. We sit silent for a moment and smile at each other. I push up the armrest. We resume our conversation in a lower voice to honor the deal with our neighbor now across the aisle. Before we hit the Pennsylvania border, I lean over and kiss Julie. We kiss once, look at each other for about 10 seconds and then lock-up for the next hour. How someone kisses matters for me. There is nothing more special than a woman who knows when to lightly graze, when to make it wet, when to suck a little or dart the tongue. There also is a strong correlation, in my experience, between good kissing, a little shy in manner, intelligence and good cock-sucking skills. Julie is unbelievable. We alternate in who sets the pace-- moving the kisses back and forth from deep to not, from sweet to horny. The other riders start to fall asleep and the bus assumes a dark quietness, underscored by the hum of the road. Julie and I have drawn our own island around aisle 15 on the driver's side. I unfasten the top two buttons of Julie's light green Oxford. I confirm what I saw the first time I looked at her: there is nothing between my fingers and her perfect breasts. Each breast fits in my large right hand. Her nipples are intensely erect. I remove my hand and lightly trace around Julie's left breast. There are tiny hairs on the side of her breast that are imbedded in goose bumps of arousal. I touch the softness of the underside of her left breast and then slowly drag my entire hand up over the top, letting each finger barely connect with the lower part of her areola and the underside of her nipple. My hand then starts at the top of her left breast and comes down to cup her entire breast and squeeze her nipple between fingers. For 10, 20, then 30 minutes, I explore everything about her breasts. She is responding with each stroke, each squeeze, each pinch and roll. Julie is trying to be quiet when I know that she wants to moan as much as I do. I pull her shirt out of her jeans and unfasten every button. She is sucking on my neck and running her tongue around the lower part of my ear. She pulls my shirt out of my grey corduroys and runs her left hand everywhere she can reach. I let a sound out as my shirttail runs across my underwear and penis. I have never been more erect. I want to jump on top of Julie and run my stiff prick over every pore in her body. The limits of our bus seats are killing me. Her shirt is now completely open and I lean in to kiss her breasts. I suck on her nipples, stopping after each to resume our kissing session. Lightly tracing her nipple with my tongue, then gently kissing her, then tongues darting around each other's mouth, then her other nipple- a small bite. She grabs my hair and strokes it and pushes my head deeper into her right breast. I increase the pressure of biting her. She grabs my thigh and kisses the top of my head. I have to touch her cunt. Julie's wetness is my only thought. I need to touch her. I pause and struggle with her jeans button until it flies apart. I reach in to feel the top of underwear and the coarse hair underneath. My hand plunges further inside her jeans, with the sound of her zipper stretching down. Julie is sopping wet. I hold her in my hand for a second and then reach a finger under the left side of her panties and toward her pussy lips. Julie freezes and goes rigid. I stop in confusion, thinking I have gone too far. She sits up and covers her tits with her shirt. I can't believe she is reacting this way given what I am feeling in her pants, but it is her call. I pull out and look at her. Then I get it. The big guy with an International Harvester cap is out of his seat and starting down the aisle to the john. Shit! As he passes, he pretends not to notice that we have been all but fucking about a foot and a half away from him. There is nothing to do but come back to earth, while simultaneously panting and giggling. Busted. As if your girlfriend's parents loudly open the front door knowing that you are making-out on the family room couch and not wanting anyone to have the experience of them seeing you in action. IH cap finally finishes peeing (is he jerking off after seeing us?) and heads back to Aisle 13. Julie relaxes her head into my shoulder. It has been far too long since the feel of a woman cuddling into me was so electrifying and good. I know she wants me as much as I need her right then, but it just isn't going to happen this instant. I stroke her hair and we kiss, again, again and again. She leans into me and we fall asleep together. When I awake, Julie has her head in my lap. It is 3:30a.m. and the bus is completely dead. Julie's breath on my prick and the view of her sprawled over me elicits an immediate rise in my pants. In a few seconds, my dick is straining desperately against the fabric. I am hard, hard. Maybe it is the sensation of my erection shifting the terrain under her head, or maybe I stirred a little, but now Julie is awake and looking up at me. She sits up, to my disappointment, but it is movement with a plan that I will soon endorse. Julie grabs her wool coat, settles back into my lap and puts the coat over and around her head. She gently unbuttons my corduroys and begins to kiss all around my stomach while slowing taking down my zipper. I usually wear jockeys, but tonight I have on boxers (lucky call), and my erection rips into the open. Julie lets her fingers drift to the sweet spot between my balls and my asshole. Up and around my sac she touches and then lighten holds the base of my penis. Her mouth is now positioned at the place where my balls transition to my penis. She starts licking. I am out of mind with pleasure, desire and the thrill of the illicit. The bus has another idea. It slows and starts to exit the highway. This absolutely cannot be happening. Julie stops and waits to see what is happening. In a few seconds, we are coming to a brightly lit area, the bus stops and turns left, into a gas station. FUCK! Passengers begin to sense the change and stir. Julie pulls out her head and puts it on top of her coat. The bus rolls to a stop and the driver gets out. Julie sits back into her seat, shaking her head and smiling. I am NOT going to receive the most incredible blow job of my life. Julie is NOT going to roll her tongue around every square inch of my cock. I am NOT going to shot two quarts of cum on a bus speeding down 1-80 at 65 miles per hour. The rest of the trip to New York is uneventful, sexually anyway. Julie tells me about herself and I figure out that this woman is more than just smart, she is probably brilliant. I have always been a sucker (literally and figuratively) for the fellow "A" students, and Julie is definitely that. She is from a very affluent professional family and has traveled extensively. I have gotten out of a violent, decidedly less happy nuclear family partly by being equally smart and partly by having my rich Aunt Florence watch out for my every step and pay the way where needed. It's obvious Julie has never been with anyone from such a confusing class background. She is trying to put together my knife wound from a high school attack with the fact that I have read as much as she has and speak as many languages. She is having no more luck making sense of this contradiction than is anyone else I know. I am an outsider everywhere, an insider most places and, at some basic level, I sense this odd combination of isolation and acceptance will never change. We fall sleep at about 5:00 and wake up when the bus takes its place in the chaos on the New Jersey side of the Holland tunnel. It's only 6:30. Julie wakes first and is looking at me. We are about to be expelled from our cocoon in Aisle 15. "Will you come with me to Boston?," I ask. Made In Manhattan "I've never said anything like this to anyone," she responds and blushes. More quietly: "I am going to explode if I don't have you inside me before breakfast. I am beyond horny—I want to fuck with you and cum and I want you to cum in me, and..." she pauses ad collects herself, "I just want to go somewhere and fuck. And I would give anything to then go to Boston with you, but my sister's wedding is day after tomorrow. We've been so into each other I haven't even told you that. So I can't go to Boston. My parents are picking up Frank, my sister Francine, in DC right now and heading back to Dobbs Ferry- that's where we live, another fact I haven't gotten around to telling you. Come out to my house and we'll be alone until at least mid-afternoon." Now it was my turn to balk, and to scheme a bed for us. Her parent's house. They are arriving god knows when and we're doing god knows what when they get there. I had a different idea. "I'll get a room in the city. You stay the night and go back home tomorrow. We'll fuck each others brains out and you'll cum five times before breakfast. I promise." "I'm counting the seconds," she agrees. We hold hands and wait for the bus to lumber itself to the Port Authority Terminal. Once or twice she runs her hand over my dick to make sure it is still there, for her. We bolt out of the bus and I head for a phone book. Amazingly for New York City, there is a phonebook at a payphone within 100 yards of our debarking. I let Julie be the expert on the city because I don't want to take the time to explain that Aunt Flo loved to bring me to Manhattan every year for theater, so I know midtown as well as does she. I have one question for each hotel: do you have a room available now, with no waiting? On the third try, we hit pay dirt six blocks away and fly out the door, each carrying a bag for ourselves and a hard-on for each other. Our only stop is a drug store for condoms—Julie's treat. When you are a couple who is totally in love, or in heat, or whatever state it is we are in, people around you just sense it and treat you with a conspiratorially light touch. Five blocks of speed walking and we are standing at the front desk. I rip-out the card (this time, really, really, really thank you Aunt Flo—I promise I'll be charming at 15 old lady tea parties this summer). We are on speed; the clerk is a chatty gay guy on Quaaludes. But his amused manner and his willingness to speed things up at the end tell me that he is rooting for us to get to that room quickly as possible. We are alone in the elevator and stand silently, not even touching. We are skiers waiting for the beep to start our run down the hill. The elevator opens and it is almost a sprint for Room 2338. She undresses herself, then me, then herself, while I am doing the same to the two of us. It must look funny, but it just feels amazingly liberating once we are standing naked in front of each other. I barely have time to register that Julie is even more sexy than I imagined. A perfect handful of a butt, sleek legs and... She is on her knees momentarily sucking the erection that has been stuck in my pants since about Youngstown, then quickly sliding a condom on me. We jump on the bed and Julie drags me on top of her and guides me inside her cunt in one motion. There is nothing slow or teasing or subtle now. We are a couple of over-educated nerds that just want to fuck each other blind. Before I can even breathe deeply Julie is screaming, "god you feel good, I'm cumming, fuck, fuck." Now I'm just pounding away with abandon. Julie has the tightest pussy I have ever felt. She is screaming that she is cumming again and I unload with a vengeance. Julie clutches my butt and then digs her nails into my back as my movements slow and my cock shrivels. Release. I start to take out my dick to remove the condom and Julie shoves me back inside. We hold each and murmur the things you say when you don't need to even think about whether the sex felt right for both of you. It did, we know. I take a nipple into my mouth and just lightly suck it. I'm a guy. A guy who got two hours of sleep at best last night and has just finished the best fucking of his life. I fall asleep. I wake up to Julie putting a condom on my next erection while she sits over me. Round two is more leisurely. Julie is guiding me into her and starting to move my dick in and out of her pussy with a steady beat. I groan with pleasure while I am looking at the most perfect breasts of the 21st century rock up and down with the movement of her tight pussy grabbing my dick. I put my hands all over sides and then cup each breast and experience her extending nipples. I pull Julie slightly toward me and start kissing her neck while we fuck and fuck and fuck in a sweet rhythm. "Julie, I love fucking you. I love this. You are amazingly beautiful. Fuck." This time Julie gets off first, takes the condom with her and kisses my balls a couple of times. She leaves me to the bed while she heads for the shower. I drag into there when she is almost done and Julie cleans me from one end to the other. She slips the small, wet bar of hotel soap slightly in my ass and I encourage her with a mumble and a low gasp. She probes a little farther while reaching a hand under my balls. She drags soap across the top of my dick, over my engorged head and then uses two fingers to soap down each side of me. Both hands are on my dick while I feel her slick, soapy breasts dragging across my back. Her tongue darts across my neck and ends in a sucking kiss of my ear. Her hands have never stopped moving around every inch of my dick in slick motion. Night Bus Julie puts the soap away and pours shampoo over my erection. She is pumping me through the lather. She washes the suds off me after a minute and turns off the water. I step out of the tub and hold in front of me a towel for her, which is indented by my erection. Julie gathers the towel around my dick instead of taking it for herself. She dries off my dick, my asshole and everything in between. She runs the towel over my torso. Julie grabs two towels and we wrap ourselves up and head back to bed, where I find the best evidence yet for my theory that masterful head is the province of smart, slightly shy, good kissers. And I have the most enjoyable time I have ever experienced with my head between the legs of another human. And she can compete with Peter's lover for orgasmic volume. This is the best morning of my life. It is past 1:00 in the afternoon and we are starving as we exit the hotel onto Seventh Avenue. New York is the pulse of America. And I feel a strong, confident beat as my hand reaches for Julie one more time. Night Bus It was late and Emma was more than a little drunk. She got on the bus when it pulled up about 3 in the morning near Trafalgar Square. She went upstairs to the top deck to find just one other person up there – a guy who looked as though he too had been out late. He was sitting on the back seat, and as she preferred facing backwards to the direction of travel she sat opposite him. He glanced up from doing something with his phone as she sat down but he didn't say anything. She was pretty cold despite the temperature of the bus because of how little she was wearing. She had blue stilettos on her feet, and had decided to wear stocking and suspenders instead of tight. Her black dress was so short that the could feel the cool air through the tiny black g-string covering her pussy. Her backless dress meant she couldn't wear a bra with it either and her nipples ached a little as they strained against the thin fabric. She put her bag down on the seat next to her and crossed her legs. The bus stopped at the next stop and someone else came up to the top deck, but sat at the front well away from her. Emma noticed that despite pretending to look at his phone the guy's eyes were actually staring intently at her legs. Glancing down she realised that as she crossed her legs she had exposed a stocking and the suspenders attached to it and it was this that the guy was staring at. Emma felt herself getting aroused from the guys stares at her, and she looked straight at him until he had to catch her eye. He blushed as he realised he had been caught staring but Emma didn't look angry – instead she bit her lip seductively. She let one hand run down and pinch her nipple gently through the fabric. The look on his face changed from one of embarrassment as he watched her. She uncrossed her legs and let them fall slightly apart, giving him a tantalising glimpse of the shadow between her thighs. Her finger moved from her nipple and traced along the plunging neckline of her dress. She pulled it to the side, revealing the curve and shape of her pert breast and showing her lack of bra. His own hands were slowly rubbing a bulge in the front of his trousers as he took in the spectacle. As he watched, she pulled both sides of her top open to expose her firm breasts and erect nipples. Looking him in the eyes she put a finger to wet it and then traced it around her nipple, making it glisten enticingly. Slowly she put her hand up her skirt, lifting her ass slightly off the seat to return moment later with the tiny black g-string. Still looking directly at him she brought the thin piece of fabric that had just been touching her wet pussy to her mouth and ran her tongue along it. Then – casually – she tossed it to him. He caught it and brought it up to his face and doing exactly as she had done ran his tongue over the wet fabric, tasting her juices. Neither of them made a sound, aware of the other person at the front of the bus. Slowly, Emma lifted one of her legs up onto the seat, pulling up her skirt so that her stockinged thighs, suspenders and her cute little pussy with its neat landing strip was visible. Encouraged by her boldness, sitting in front of him with her tits and pussy on display he undid his jeans and opened the flies, pushing a hand inside the waistband to touch his bare flesh. He watched her push her finger between her wet cunt lips, pushing it in as far is would go before withdrawing it and sucking it clean. He reached in and pulled the tip of his swollen cock just above the waistband. Emma could see it shining with precum and had to halt herself from dropping to her knees and taking it in her mouth. She pointed at his phone and beckoned. He tossed it over the gap between them, and she threw him her own. He looked confused at what she had in mind until she put it between her legs. She teased her lips with it for a moment before she pushed it between them, leaving it half in and half out of her. The sight of her pussy opened by her phone was clearly nearly too much for the guy, but he got her drift when she motioned for him to call his phone. He keyed in his number to her phone and after a few seconds Emma let out a low gasp as it began to vibrate inside her. It rang for 30 seconds before it went to answer machine and she withdrew it and handed it back to him. He ran his tongue over it, savouring the taste of her cunt juice on his phone. When he had swallowed every last drop he put his hands in his trousers and slowly began jerking his cock. His hand was moving fast, pounding his shaft as Emma began to rub her own clit in earnest. She used her free hand to push two fingers in and out of her pussy, fucking herself hard with her fingers as he brought himself off. She came with a shudder, so turned on at pleasuring herself to a complete stranger. He carried on wanking his dick as she orgasmed, until he couldn't hold back any longer. Grabbing her wet g-string he placed it over the end of his cock as he came, writhing in his seat as his orgasm flooded her underwear. Emma watched him try and stifle his groans of pleasure, her legs still wide apart. As his eyes suddenly came back into focus he quickly stood up, tucking his cock away and pressing the button to stop the bus. He winked at her as he walked past and descended the stairs. Emma reached forward and picked up her cum-soaked underwear. She ran her finger through his thick load and sucked it clean, enjoying the taste of his cum. Then, she pulled the g-string back on, feeling his cum against her swollen juicy pussy lips. She smiled to herself as she waited for the bus to reach her stop – her boyfriend's house. Night Bus to Montreal The bus ride started out innocently enough, but then most major events do. If anyone really knew what was going to happen to them at the end of the day—or night for that matter—would they board the bus, or would they stay home? Would you drink that last glass of wine and stumble out into the rain with only a knee-length vinyl rain slicker to cover your nudity, or would you lie in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain on the roof? I'd probably do it all over again. More to the point, I probably will. To understand me without reservation, I think there is something to make clear here: I like to bring out the devil in a man. I don't consider myself a slut, or a whore, or a...well, I do consider myself a naughty girl. I've always had this talent: I can always attract the attention of men. It doesn't matter that I'm just a simple librarian—long skirt, short skirt, no skirt, jeans, shorts, cords, sweat pants...whatever. Men have always looked. When I was young and not in control, men touched. It was one of my uncles that told me that I 'made him do it' as he lay atop me grunting and sweating. He wasn't so attractive—overweight, with breath smelling of Coors. It wasn't very glamorous, as you can well imagine. But it did make me think. If I made him do this...if I could unknowingly make a grown, married man sneak about in the middle of the night and come to me while I was sleeping in the room just next to the one he shared with his wife (my Auntie!)...if I could make him slide his fingers inside of me while he thought I slept...if I could make him want me and bite at my then-small breasts...if I could make a man risk all of that... What else could I do? I'll tell you, there was a hobby for me. Oh I still read, and write, and listen to the radio; I'm an educated woman and I have my job and my life. However, there is nothing as exciting as feeling the trembling fingers or stiff cock of a man that has been manipulated into thinking he is breaking a sexual taboo, rule, or law. And men will be men. Without further ado, on to the bus ride. I was sitting at the rear of the bus; it's mostly quieter there, and I wasn't really in the mood to participate in bus banter with whoever was still awake at this hour. It was the late bus on a long line from New York to Montreal. Being on a long haul, the bus was a larger bus with air-ride and the trimmings; it also meant that the back 3 or 4 rows were elevated above the rest of the passenger seats to accommodate whatever mechanisms propel busses. It also meant that the backseats all shielded each other from the view of the driver, or any of the lower passengers. The man sitting next to me was a business suit, handsome in his own way, youngish with dark thick hair and straight white teeth. He had been to England recently on vacation, which gave us something to talk about. I had lived most of my life in London and he had gone to Wales. Yanks don't know the difference. He had clutched his briefcase like it was the world to him at first. However, after we had chatted idly and I had flirted coyly for the first couple hours in traffic, he leaned forward to set it on the floor. While he was bent, looking out the window, pretending to be oblivious, I shifted slightly so that the rain slicker I wore came open at the low hem and I crossed my legs, revealing the bare of my calf, knee, and most of my thigh. I could feel him looking; his breathing had shallowed. I looked back at him smiling and made some innocent comment about the rain and weather. Readjusting my coat, I pretended to be embarrassed that the coat had parted. His face had gone red flush, though he smiled back and nodded. Hook, line, and sinker. The bus had been more congested closer to the city, but as various stops came up it had thinned a bit. Now that it was full dark and most of the passengers asleep, the bus driver turned the overhead lights off. I yawned and felt the coat halves part again, though not quite as far as before, only up to my knee exposed. Once again, I could feel his eyes on my bare flesh. I pretended to remain oblivious. I had mentioned over the course of the bus ride that I had been drinking tonight. I acted a little sloppy and laughed a little too much at his jokes. Now I pulled a bottle of water from my bag and took a couple of pills from a little baggy. I took the pills, which were actually aspirin, and noticed him watching. I gave him a weak smile, told him they were Dramamine. I mentioned off-hand that Dramamine knocks me out and I wouldn't wake until Montreal. I joked that I hoped he didn't mind my snoring. He smiled politely and said he wouldn't mind at all. I snuggled down in the seat, and pretended to go to sleep. When feigning sleep and wanting to ensure you get felt up while you are 'out', the trick is the lure. To lure properly, you must know how people sleep; the breathing, the small soft noises. No one is likely to look for R.E.M. when they would better like their hand up your skirt. The second part of the lure is exposure. I could feel him watching me; it wasn't vanity, I could feel him. His eyes on my face, so intent he might have burned a hole right through me. I let out a soft sound of contentment and let my breathing fall deep and steady; meditation has always been good for something. My head was against the window; he had only my profile. I had moved my bag when I had gotten the pills out so that it was between my feet, forcing my legs slightly apart. Ten minutes passed, nothing but his breathing. I made another small noise and slipped down in the seat a little, the coat came apart, nearly to my hip. I heard him gasp and I nearly smiled, but I didn't. I'm a good little bait. There are three types of men: the first is the type of man with honor. This type of man, in this situation, would wake me or cover me or ignore it altogether. The second is a man with negotiable honor who cannot resist temptation. This man would avert his eyes slightly, but not cover me, or he would make a failed attempt at covering me but make sure he touched me in the process to satisfy the thrill. The third is the man who would not cover, would not wake, but would slowly test his boundaries to know just how much he could do to me before I woke. When I felt his hand on the thigh closest to him, little more than a feather of a touch, I knew he was the third. Testing the waters. Delicious. I could feel him twisting slowly in his seat; no one had the seat across from ours and, as we were on the big bench seat across the back of the bus, no one occupied the seats behind us. In front of us the nearest resident was one seat up and snoring like a lumberjack. The bus bounced and I arched my back slightly. Previously, I had taken the liberty of freeing the top few buttons of the coat, and just tugging the halves together. Now, splendidly, the coat came apart slightly, revealing the long line of my throat and exposing a thin stripe of my bare breast to him. He didn't retrieve his hand from my thigh, instead his fingers edged downward slowly, into the crevice between my thighs, where there was nothing to protect me. My stomach was tight with anticipation and I was already so hot and wet I wondered if I were now sitting in a puddle. I wished it weren't so public a place, suddenly. If we were a bit more private, I'd have damned the subterfuge, climbed atop him, fucked his brains out and said, 'Thank you very much, I'm off now.' The bus lurched violently and I bounced suddenly, for the better; his knuckles bumped directly up against the well-manicured curls of my womanhood. "Jesus," I heard him whisper, but he didn't withdraw his hand. Instead, leaning so closely I could hear the tremble in his breathing, he slid his other hand boldly into the top of the coat and cupped my breast, his thumb across the nipple. I knew very well my nipple was erect, I could feel the steely little nub against the cold of the vinyl. His hand was warm and moist from the humidity; he gave the nipple a soft squeeze. I moaned softly in my feigned sleep and turned towards him, letting my lips part, and sliding farther down in the seat. He froze momentarily, until my breathing evened again and then he laughed softly. "Having a nice little fuck dream, Sleeping Beauty?" he whispered. I could feel his face close to mine; he licked my lips obscenely and I made another little noise of pleasure, still surely 'sleeping.' He pinched the nipple roughly then, and still I 'slept.' "Nice little titty." He withdrew his hand from my breast and from my thigh. I almost opened my eyes with despair, but waited. He wasn't going anywhere. He was now convinced I was completely and certainly out. I could feel the wheels of his weasely little mind turning. 'Woman on a bus wearing nothing more than her overcoat, deserves a poke while she's asleep.' I could feel him fumbling with the remaining buttons on the coat. He lifted the half that was easiest and gasped again as I was fully revealed to him. Urgency and impatience building, I slumped farther into the seat and mumbled dreamily, before turning slightly and tossing one of my knees up across his lap. The coat fell open down my right side, my breast exposed along with a clean line of my slender body right to the top of my boot. I could feel him hard and hot against the back of my bare calf through his casual Dockers. "Naughty little cunt," he muttered, his voice straining. Some men talked, some men just got along with it. Sometimes I liked it when they talked. He had a nice voice. Now the stranger wasted no time. Trembling fingers met my wetness with little resistance as I was gaping open to him. The first finger prodded curiously. A little at first and then deeper, the other knuckles nudging my clitoris roughly. "So fucking wet." I had always been a tight little one and gasped a little when he slid the second finger in alongside its companion. Again he froze. I almost laughed as I could feel him weighing the options over in his mind. What would he do if he were caught at this point, with a girl lying prostrate on her back asleep, in the back of a bus, with his fingers up her cunt? I rolled my calf a little against his cock just to help him make up his mind. The fingers slowly moved again and then were withdrawn. He pressed his whole fist, then, against my tight little opening, perhaps contemplating. I was a little horrified at this new turn and was disappointed that I'd have to innocently wake soon if he kept with this line of experimentation. He removed his fist after a couple gentle tries and instead slid his body further beneath mine. There were a few moments of shifting. I felt something slightly heavy cover both of us, which I surmised was his jacket and then he took my hand. My fingers met his erection half-curled in the relaxed state that was supposed to accompany this sleep I was faking. He uncurled them enough that when positioned, his cock rested neatly in the curve of my hand. "That's a good little slut." I moaned softly in my 'sleep' and turned a little, tightening my grip as if in reflex and pulling a little. He gasped again and cupped one of his hands over mine. He moved slightly and his other hand was back between my legs. He clawed lightly at my inner thighs while using my limp hand to masturbate himself. Sliding my hand up and down on his cock with one hand, the other hand parted the lips that hid my clit. The cold air hit the little nub and all concerned, sending a rush of goose bumps down my thigh and across my stomach. He plucked the node of flesh with his fingers and massaged it between them until I was most tempted to writhe atop him. He pinched and twisted the sensitive little thing until I almost cried out. As he moved my hand more quickly beneath his, he slipped his fingers inside of me once again. I came with a small whimper that didn't disrupt him in the least. "Dirty...fucking...whore..." he panted. In my 'sleep' I bit my bottom lip as the speed of my hand and his increased. He ignored my spread legs altogether at once, jerking his hand away and crushing mine upon his cock. He tightened and was done. He wasn't concerned with me just then, and through slightly-opened eyes, I could see he had used a tissue to catch the semen. Just as well. I didn't want the mess anyway. He sat panting for a moment, and then looked down at me, lying half naked on the bus seat. I was still 'sleeping' of course. He laughed softly and patted my breasts gently. Then, seemingly embarrassed, he reached to cover up his indiscretion, fumbling the buttons back into place and tying the belt neat as could be. Apparently being most kind and even gentlemanly now, he slid away from me slightly and covered me with his long jacket. Still 'sleeping,' I watched him in the dark, wondering if he were truly done. After a moment, his hand drifted lazily up the coat, stroking my bare calf, inner thigh and then pulling at the small hairs of my cunt. He nudged a knuckle against my clit roughly and then lifted his jacket and folded the halves of my slicker apart. A thrum of excitement stiffened my spine. He flicked my clit roughly with one finger and I squirmed. He didn't pause this time, didn't freeze. He had confidence now that I was out cold. He pulled away for a minute and fished for something in his pants pocket. When he settled back down, I realized he'd taken out his cell phone. I couldn't help but smile now; he was too busy to notice. He half covered the flash with his hand and took a picture of my lovely little exposed pussy. I almost came just from the thought and excitement. He pulled his coat down a little until he made a little cave that would catch the wash of the flash and keep his activities private from the rest of the bus and then he slipped a finger in me and took another picture. He pinched my clit and pulled it out from its nestled little crevice and took another. Two fingers up my snatch and another picture taken. He bent slowly over until I could feel his breath on my cunt and his tongue on my clit. Another picture was taken. He pushed my thigh a little, spreading my legs father and farther apart. His head was still on my thigh, his tongue stroking my clit. From our positions, it couldn't have been easy for him, but I felt him spread my ass cheeks slightly and touch my anus. A chill ran the length of me and I could feel him smile against my leg. He muttered something I didn't quite catch and then he slid his index finger into my ass and his thumb into my cunt. He moved his finger and thumb in unison, in and out, all the while taking pictures. It was too much. I was seeing white and every part of me was on fire, with a whimper and a groan I came hard. I'm normally a screamer, but screaming on the bus wouldn't have helped anything. He stopped and withdrew his fingers as I groaned and writhed, until he'd reassured himself I was still asleep. Then he got creative. I felt the cold hardness of a pen slide along my thigh. The light from the phone held now and I imagined he must have one of those phones with video capability. He taped himself fucking me with the pen for a few strokes and then replaced it with his finger. One finger, two fingers, three fingers. I was stretched to my limit and I squirmed a little. "Tight little slut. It'd probably hurt you if I fucked you." This seemed to give him an idea and after some shifting on the seat, he came to be half kneeling on the bench, with my thighs pulled up over his. With my cunt and anus fully exposed to him now, he repeated the earlier activity, taking a few pictures as he shoved his fingers and thumb into my ass and snatch. He seemed to be experimenting, playing with the stretch and feel of either hole, as if he were examining me and studying the fuck holes of women. He taped all of it. The pen slipped into my ass and again he taped himself fucking me with it before removing it. Lifting his coat, which still covered most of me, he created a barrier just above my breasts. The coat, serving as a rudimentary cave to catch the flash, formed a stiff little wall high enough to shield my face as he pulled apart the top of the coat and bared my breasts, catching them on film too. He took one into his mouth and suckled it, twisting his tongue around the nipple before biting it gently, all the while, his head tilted to watch my face for any sign of waking. He pulled back and took another picture of my now-swollen nipple and slobber-wet breast. He pulled back from me a bit and paused to situate himself and work out his balancing issues: he ended up half bent over me, one arm on the back of the bench, my legs up over his hips, one of his knees on the bench, the other on the floor, rigid and straight to give him leverage. He seemed to be happy with the arrangement because he didn't withdraw. I was a little surprised at how far he was taking this. Pleased, but surprised. I was glad I'd taken the pills in front of him, especially now knowing how far he was willing to take this. I wanted to give him a pat on the back for boldness as I felt the warm head of his cock play over my cunt. He teased his swollen member from my pussy to my ass, as if he were trying to decide which he'd like better. He primed each with his finger, first the cunt and then the ass. He slid the length of himself along both, lifting my cunt lips up around his cock, burying his rod against my clit. He moved slowly for a moment as if to masturbate himself with my hot little mound. Then, adjusting slightly, he pressed himself at my tight cunt hole. Moving slowly, as he still didn't want to wake me or alert anyone on the bus to his intended 'rape' and molestation, he pushed down into me. Slowly at first, but when his size argued with my tightness, he rammed it home. I gasped and arched against him involuntarily. He paused, searching my face for any sign of waking and then laughed softly. "Nasty little bitch; you still think you're dreaming, don't you." He reared back a little and took another picture of his cock buried within me. I made a little noise of pleasure as he began slowly fucking me. Sliding in and out gently and taping it as he went. Finally, he put the phone away, and as the bus rocked and bounced, he fell forward over me, his hands on either side of my breasts, supporting his weight well. It only took a handful of swift deep strokes before he confirmed I was not waking. Then he began slamming me as hard as the limited space would allow. He bit down on my breast and twitched with convulsion as he came and nearly collapsed on top of me. I bit my lip now to keep from screaming and I came with him. In his euphoria, I don't know if he even noticed. For the second time that night, he pulled back and adjusted my coat over me and covered me again with his. He wiped gently at me with his tissues, cleaning away the sweat on my thighs and any fluids that might betray him that lingered outside my still-swollen, throbbing cunt. As my breathing settled, I noticed there was no additional wetness between my legs, that he must have used a condom. Bully for me. He settled back on the seat, head tipped back against the bus wall, alternating between staring at the ceiling and staring at me. A little time passed, I was enjoying watching his disbelief and indecision over what to do about it. 'Wrestle with your demons, buddy, but that was a good fuck.' The driver announced we were nearing the Albany stop and the bus jarred again. I started and sat up slowly, glancing around sleepily. He looked a little alarmed. Looking at myself, lying across his lap, I pretended to be embarrassed and apologized profusely, "I'm so sorry, I fell right asleep and took up the whole bloody seat!" He smiled sheepishly, his face still flush. "It's no problem really. You seemed very tired." Night Bus to Montreal "My, aren't you a chivalrous gent." I smiled sweetly and stretched my arms above my head. He didn't look this time as my coat came apart up my thigh. I smiled and adjusted myself back into my own seat. Reaching for my bag I sighed. "I told you those damned Dramamine would have me out in no time. I need some coffee. Are we almost to the Albany stop?" Night Bus To Sudbury I rarely take the bus anymore, but I remember perfectly the long rides north, the smell of the other passengers, the peculiar way boredom, road sickness and lust combine. I was in the middle of my fourth semester at U of T – the University of Toronto. Spring Break at last. For the first time in two years, I longed to get back home up north for a few days. The occasional trip home was an annoyance at first, something I had to do in order to please my parents. But now, the prospect of home-cooked meals, tranquility and catching up with family actually looked preferable to partying with friends on Queen Street West. Maturity, perhaps. Maturity, or the fact I wasn't with Karen anymore. It may have been a short relationship, but God was she something! I hoped a few days in Sudbury would help me get over the loss. Those last two months have been tough, images of her gorgeous body and the sound of her laughter flashing through my mind whenever I let it wander. I still had 10 minutes to wait before boarding the bus, so I got out of the terminal to get a little fresh air. It was a fairly cool spring and a light rain was falling, but I didn't mind. I watched people walk by in the night. A homeless guy pushing a small cart before him. Some Bay street type in an expensive suit with a short-skirted blond girl under his arm. Gosh, she looks so much like Karen! I closed my eyes, turned away and walked a few steps to the corner of the terminal. I didn't pay attention to the red car parked there at first, but then movement inside caught my eye. Feebly illuminated by the street light some distance away, I could see a couple kissing passionately. Good-looking guy, blond hair brushed back, broad shoulders under his Toronto Maple Leafs jacket. He was leaning over the woman on the passenger seat. Black hair cut short, swaying to the side as she moved her head. It took me a moment to realize the guy had a hand beneath her low-cut white t-shirt, massaging her left breast vigorously. "Fuck, they're really having a good time," I whispered. I flattened myself on the terminal wall, afraid they'd see me. I saw the passenger seat jerk back and the guy shifted his body so he was almost directly above his girlfriend. He then hiked up her t-shirt and I was treated to the sight of her beautiful, firm D-cups peeking out from under the bra that has been pushed up. She didn't resist when he deftly undid the clasps and took the bra away, then sucked her right nipple, massaging the other with his hand. His body now blocked the view I had of her magnificent tits, but her face was lovely to watch: head pulled back, eyes closed, she opened and closed her mouth in what I could imagine was dirty talk. My lustful mind made up the soundtrack by itself. "Oh God yes, suck my tits baby. Fuck, you're so good! Come on, suck me harder baby," I fantasized. Her right leg came up and I saw a flash of white cloth go down her thigh. "Fuck, he's pulling her panties from under her," I thought. I watched the other leg go up for a brief moment, then her panties gracefully flew to the driver's seat. The woman's month opened wide in a scream, I guessed in reaction to her boyfriend's slipping his fingers into her. I could see his arm jerking rapidly between her legs for maybe a minute before her body went rigid, her hips pushing hard to get as much of those fingers in her as possible. I heard her muffled scream even through the rain as the orgasm boiled through her. I turned away, breathing with difficulty, my hot cock painfully pushing against my jeans. I walk briskly into the terminal, intending to go down to the washroom to get rid of that hard-on in the most effective way possible. Then I saw the clock: 55 minutes past midnight. I'd missed the boarding announcement. I ran to where the waiting bus was, all the while struggling to conceal my raging hard-on. Completely out of breath, I stopped at the end of the short line of people still waiting to board. I closed my eyes and tried to control myself. "Excuse me, is that the bus for Sudbury?" I turned automatically to the female voice behind me. "Yes, it's just about to…" I looked directly into the green eyes of black-haired young woman, noticing in an instant the displaced hair, the beads of sweat on her brow, the "freshly fucked" glint in her eyes. "It's just about to come. I mean, to leave!" I quickly turned away from her, feeling fire crawl along every inch of my face. Uncaring about my absolutely embarrassed state, my pole got back to full attention. I put my bag in the baggage compartment of the bus and climbed on, all the while fearing she'd notice how aroused I was and realize I might have seen her get finger-fucked by her boyfriend. I headed for an empty seat near the back of the bus. I collapsed in the seat, bending a little forward to keep my penis from making a pyramid in my jeans. I took deep breaths to get rid of the erection. "Are you okay?" I jerked my head at the voice coming from the window seat just beside me. A woman, gentle face, long brown curly hair, maybe 20 years old. I just blinked stupidly. "Are you in pain or something?" she said, apparently trying to decide if I needed help or if I had psychiatric problems. I struggled to answer in a normal voice, my ears informing me I failed miserably. "Cramp. Just a cramp. It's going away now, thanks." I made what I hoped was a reassuring smile and turned my head the other way… just in time to see my black-haired beauty sit down just across the aisle. Her shapely legs were coming out from a short red skirt, the kind every guy knows can fly away with the lightest gust of wind. Her chest thrust forward as she tried to find a comfortable position on the seat and I could see her half-erected nipples pushing against the fabric of her t-shirt. "Looks like she left her bra to her boyfriend," I thought. My eyes slipped down to the hem of her skirt, wondering if he kept the panties too. She was chatting a little with the old man sitting beside her. They were talking in low voices as everyone does on buses, but I could hear her introducing herself as Caroline. "Caroline the Car Slut," I thought. Not very clever, but I liked the sound of it. I forced myself to keep my eyes off her body and relax as the bus' engine came alive. I took in the smell of the vehicule: diesel and perfume. I knew that over the next five hours, it would be replaced by the smell of sweat and that blue-green stuff they put in the toilet to keep it from stinking. Not looking forward to that. I took out my CD player from my jacket's pocket, stealing a glance at Caroline the Car Slut in passing. She was reading a book, I couldn't see the cover. Her nipples had softened, but her round tits still showed wonderfully well under the t-shirt. I pushed the Play button and let Dave Matthews take over my mind… Oh I watch you there through the window and I stare at you You wear nothing but you, wear it so well Tied up and twisted, the way I'd like to be I fell asleep thinking about my ex-girlfriend Karen getting finger-fucked in a car by a hockey player, her blond curls jumping all over her face. Then that dream came again, unbidden. There's no escape from the memory of that day. ** My class had been cancelled, the teacher delayed by the heavy snowfall. That meant I had three hours to myself, so of course I planned to walk to Karen's apartment and surprise her. She lives on the top floor of a two-floor building just west of Spadina Ave, with an exterior steel staircase going all the way up to her door. I hopped from one step to the next, being careful not to walk into the boot prints already there, so the fresh snow would muffle the noise. I watched my dream-self halt at the top of the stairs, impulsively looking into Karen's small living room through the window just next to the door. What I saw stopped me dead. I could see her crouched, naked body, white skin charged with the energy of hot sex, elbows on the couch, knees on the floor. And Martin McKay right behind, pushing his cock into her. Karen was pushing madly back, grinding her pussy against him, sending both her gorgeous tits and her honey-blond hair flying with the movement. I stood there frozen in the snow, my brain refusing to acknowledge the significance of what I was seeing. Pot-belly, small-dick Martin was fucking my beautiful girlfriend, his hips pounding into her again and again, making her scream like crazy and the only thought I could formulate was "Shit, she's so hot. She's loving every second of it." As I stood there by the window, I felt heat gather at my groin and the blood rush up my dick. "They're so fucking hot…" Karen was turning, saying something. I pushed my ear to the glass to hear. "… know what I want, do it to me. Do it, do it now!" Martin pulled on her hips, forcing her to lay on her side with him. Still inside her, he lifted her left leg high and pounded some more at her pussy. I could see his thin cock go in and out of her juicehole at incredible speed. "God, how can he not come?" I wondered. Karen was still moaning and pleading with him, her voice now a shout. "Ah, baby give it to me! Please, don't make me wait no more. Oh that's fucking… Please baby please.. FUCK MY ASS BABY!!!" I was stunned. Karen never wanted to do that with me. Now she was begging another guy to push his dick into her asshole. I could feel my own cock twitching, gathering all my body heat to my crotch. I started to shiver. Still holding her leg up, Martin suddenly slipped his cock out of her pussy and pushed his hips against her ass. Karen's mouth closed shut and her head hit the floor hard, her whole body reacting to the invasion of her anus. Martin moved his hips slowly at first, then more rapidly, making Karen yell in delight continuously. She plunged her hand between her soaked pussy lips, matching with glistening fingers the movements in her ass. My eyes were glued to those fingers, massaging, stretching, rubbing her pussy. As she reached orgasm, she pushed almost her whole delicate hand into her vagina and Martin's hips pushed her hard from behind. Her body thrashed in ecstasy as her lover leg go of her leg to hold her hips with both hands. I heard him for the first time, releasing a low animal growl as he came, sending his load up her ass. ** I raised my eyelids, looking at the back of the seat in front of me, my heart beating hard. I passed my hand through my hair, discovering my brow was dripping with sweat. Then I realized my cock was almost fully erect, making a huge lump in my jeans! I slapped my hand hard on it to conceal it, gritting my teeth at the pain. I took a look to the right. The brown-haired woman was asleep in her seat, her breasts and uncovered belly rising in synch. Thank God, she didn't see anything. Then I turned the other way. My Car Slut was sleeping too. She was curled up sideways in her seat, facing my way. Her t-shirt had stretched to adjust to the new position and her deep v-neck had twisted toward her left breast, showing me up close quite a bit of that beautiful round tit I've seen from afar earlier. I could see almost half of her pale aureole, her nipple nearly escaping the confines of her clothing. The bus was dark and warm. I bit my lip. "Okay, I want to do this." I stood up, carefully arranging my hard cock so it wouldn't show too much. I went at the front to speak with the driver, a man in his forties with a huge moustache. "Hey sir, do you mind turning the heat down at the back? It's getting really hot in there." The man glanced at me for a moment before putting his eyes back on the road. "Yeah, I've had problems with the heating system. Sure, I'll turn it down." Emboldened, I made my move. "Actually, would you mind sending us some cold air for a while, that would really feel good." He just nodded and his hand adjusted the controls. I mumbled heartfelt thanks and returned to my seat. I sat sideways in my seat, looking at Caroline's nipples react to the cold air now coming out of the floor vents. My cock returned to full hardness as I saw her shiver for a moment and her nipple hardened, gradually pushing against the fabric. I couldn't believe how hard it seemed to get! It finally popped out, a beautiful pink thing begging to be licked and sucked. I shifted my position a bit so I could discreetly stroke my cock through my pants. She moaned softly and brought her hand to her breast, pushing softly against it with her open hand, lips half-closed. I started stroking hard at the base of my dick. As I thought I was about to come in my jeans, something grabbed the tip of my dick! I cried aloud, waking half the bus. Caroline came wide awake, automatically rearranging her t-shirt at the same time. Now bent in two to hide my hard-on, my face burning with shame, I looked at the woman sitting beside me. She held her hand in front of her mouth to keep her from laughing out loud. She looked at me sideways with mischief dancing in her eyes. I slumped as low as I could, trying to disappear into the faded green bus seat. People were glancing at me wondering what happened, some with a small smile. I risked a glance at Caroline. She was picking up her book, apparently unaware of the thrill she just gave me. I felt a little better, but I wished I'd stop sweating and I wondered how come I my cock was still rock-hard. "What the Hell is wrong with me?" I wondered. Driver's voice in the speaker system. "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be arriving in North Bay in 10 minutes, where we'll be stopping for 20 minutes. Thank you." I heard the noise of pen scratching on paper. That insane woman was writing something. Anger started to flare up within me and I looked at her, trying to find something to say that would put her to shame. But she was looking at me, holding a folded piece of paper with a crooked smile. Now completely confused, I took it and read. I want your big cock inside me. In the washroom at the bus stop. I read the message twice more, acutely aware of my raging erection. I turned to her. She was looking at me lustily with large brown eyes. She had beautiful lips, the kind you want around your cock. My gaze dropped to her breasts, small and high under her short green top. Her left leg was resting on her right knee, but I could see her hand had disappeared beneath the edge of her low-cut jeans, gently fingering her pussy. I swallowed hard and made a small nod. She replied by wetting her lips with her tongue. I almost came right there. I couldn't believe my luck. The last ten minutes before the stop were pure torture. She continued fingering herself, absently looking at the lights outside. The bus finally pulled in the parking lot of North Bay's bus station. As people started to get up and gather their things, my lusty girl leaned toward me and grabbed at my crotch, pulling me to her. She whispered in my hear. "No condom, no pussy." She then pretty much pushed me into the alley. I made my way to the bus station with other passengers as the driver unloaded the luggage of those getting off in North Bay. At the time, it was a large waiting room with a few rows of plastic seats, some lockers, a convenience store and of course, the doors to the washrooms. I entered the convenience store area right away, not wanting to keep my "date" waiting. I looked at the rows of chips, chocolate bars and motion sickness pills, but couldn't see any damned rubbers. "No…" Yes, there they were, behind the counter. I had to ask the thin old lady at the cashier for them. I could see my date staring at me from the waiting area, sipping some coffee. I rapidly took my place in line with other passengers waiting to pay for their purchases, right behind Caroline. I was so close I could smell her. A hint of perfume and the sweet smell of sex. My cock started twitching again, pointing right at her ass and pussy. I wondered once more if she was naked under that skirt. Relieved to be the last one in line, I hoped my tone of voice would be just right so that other passengers wouldn't hear me, but loud enough so that the clerk wouldn't have me repeat. "A box of Lifestyles," I said, proud of the perfect control I had over my voice. She almost yelled the reply "Plain or lubricated?", looking at me with a sly smile. Shit, she was enjoying this. "Lubed", I said with the face of someone admitting defeat, as I heard a few muffled giggles somewhere behind me. She handed me the box. "10,34 $. Have fun." Well, I got the damned things and I was sure as Hell going to put them to good use. I put the box in my jacket's pocket and looked at where the object of my lust was sitting earlier. All that was left was an empty paper cup. I headed for the washroom doors, thankful that they were at the end of a short corridor, so not too many people could see me take the wrong way. I gently knocked on the women's door. The door opened a crack and I saw my date's face, great dark eyes shining with excitement. "It's clear" she said, grabbing my belt and pulling me playfully inside. Walking backwards, she pulled me forward until her denim-clad butt hit the sink. With devilish skill, she got my belt buckle undone and popped a button open. I quickly glanced to look around: a couple of sinks along a large mirror, three toilet booths. I was panicked at the idea someone could come in. "Hey, not here, let's get in a booth." I heard my zipper come down. "Right here, Tom. You fuck me right here." I felt she had hit me on the head with a hammer. "How the fuck to you know my name?!?" My train of thought was cut off when she opened my jeans wide and sent her hand fishing for my eager cock. "Oh Tom, this is very nice… Very nice indeed." She pulled it from my underwear, running her cool hand up along its length, then down again to squeeze my balls. I gasped. "Oh, is it sensitive? Yeah, it had a busy night, dreaming about fucking that girl with the black hair. You really want to slip your cock between those big tits, don't you Tom?" The thought actually hadn't occurred to me, but thinking about having my penis slide between her breasts made me moan aloud, encouraged by the palm of the hand rubbing pre-cum all over my cock. I closed my eyes. The stroking stopped abruptly. Perhaps she saw the door open!! I opened my eyes and looked that way, but it was still closed. Relieved, I looked at my mystery girl. She had let go of my sex and now had her back to me, elbows on the sink. She had lowered both her jeans and her pink panties. Her butt was beautifully tight and round. Her wet pussy was in full view between her thighs. "So?" She was looking at me in the mirror with an innocent look, shaking her butt playfully. I couldn't say anything. I quickly pulled a condom from the box and slipped it over my cock. "Good boy." She flashed me a crooked smile and opened her legs wider. I stepped forward and aimed the head of my shaft at her welcoming pussy and pushed gently. It slipped in easily, her lips pressing against the thin latex. "Oh yesss…" she purred. "I want more!" I backed up a little bit then pushed forward in a smooth motion. She moaned and pushed back with her hips as I slowly slipped my entire pole in her, my balls finally pushing against the back of her thighs. I clenched my jaw shut to keep me from crying out loud. My cock felt pressure on all sides on its entire length. The feeling was awesome. Casting a nervous look at the door, I pulled out about halfway. She whimpered and I pushed it back in, a bit faster than the first time. I did it again and when I heard her say "Oh yesss!", I increased the tempo. I was soon fucking her pussy fast and furious, her juices running down my balls. I was about to come. Night Bus To Sudbury "Wait, wait… Put that in my ass, Tom." I hesitated a moment, couldn't quite believe it. "Come on boy, put your cock in my fucking ass!!" I put my hands on her ass cheeks and pulled then apart. I was amazed to see her asshole was partially open. Good, because I had no time to experiment with a finger. Her pussy walls caressed my cock as I pulled out of her and she lowered her hips a little. I gently pushed against her anus, but felt it resist. "Small circles, Tom. Tease my asshole with your hard cock." I started running the head of my shaft all around her asshole, then reached into her pussy with my left hand. She wriggled a little as my fingers entered her, trying unsuccessfully to stay silent. I brought my juice-covered hand to her ass and rubbed it while I tried again to enter her. I felt her hole stretch rapidly and then pull on my cock. That was fucking incredible! It felt like fucking and being sucked at the same time. She pushed her ass on my cock and it went in another inch. I started pumping and I could feel I got a little more in with every thrust. My cock sent great waves of pleasure through my body whenever I moved. My orgasm came without warning, my cock exploding deep in her ass. She yelped when I pushed further than ever and my orgasm subsided. I stayed there doing small movements, my cock half-hard now, my hand holding the ring of the condom. "Oh Tom, that feels really good. Now pull out of me slowly." I backed up slowly, the tight rim of her ass milking my cock all the way. I was nearly out when she came. Her hips pushed back sharply one last time, making me groan loudly. Then I was out, leaving her with her ass up in the air, her body shaking. I groaned again while I removed the condom and I pulled my pants up rapidly. She turned around to face me, her pussy still exposed, her eyes on my hips. "We still have some time, Tom." I zipped my jeans closed before I changed my mind. "I really think I should be out of here." "You're afraid someone would open the door?" She pulled her jeans back up too and I regretfully watched her pussy disappear from view. "Well yeah. That would be… embarrassing." She giggled. "Someone did, Tom. Someone watched you fuck my ass the whole time. I could see her in the mirror. Knowing she was watching you pound my poor ass made me come." I was stunned. "Could you see who it was?" "Yes, but I'm not telling." She walked out of the washroom. I quickly followed. There were almost no one left in the bus station, so we hurried to the bus. The driver gave me a funny look when I hopped in. I was surprised to see how empty the bus was now. Apparently, most passengers were not going further north. Coming back to my seat, I saw the old man was gone and black-haired Caroline was lying down on her side, stretched on both seats. I took a peek at her shapely white legs before turning my attention to the woman I just had an incredible fuck with. We leaned toward each other. "That was incredible. I can't believe what just happened," I whispered. "I loved it too. You were great sport, Tom." I was surprised to detect tenderness in her voice after the way she acted earlier. "So how come you know my name?" "Soc-306" "What? You're in my Sociology and Crime class? I'm sure I'd have noticed you!" "Two rows behind you, a little to the left. Of course you didn't notice me, you spend half the class looking at that redhead on your left!" I blushed. "It's that obvious?" "You're just eating her up all the time, like most of the guys." "Well, I noticed you tonight…" I said, trying to take a sexy voice. "Yeah, I had to get a hold of your cock to get you to pay any attention to me! You were more interested to look at that girl's tits." I didn't know what to say. She roughly grabbed my jaw with her hand and pressed her lips to mine, sending a bolt of lightning all through my body. She then turned my head around. Caroline was sleeping on her back, her head leaning on the window, eyes closed. In the weak interior light, I could see her legs were parted somewhat. My eyes feasted on the white skin of her thighs, almost completely exposed. I admired the shape of her hips and her large breasts, begging to be sucked. I felt blood coming back into my cock. "Don't yell, now". I felt a hand on my crouch, caressing and fumbling for the zipper. "Shit, you're crazy…" It seemed to me that the whole bus could hear the sound of my zipper making its way down. She used two fingers to grab the edge of my underwear and pull it down, causing my semi-hard cock to escape its bonds. I stiffened as Caroline moved on the seats, afraid that she'd wake up and see me with my cock out of my pants. But she kept her eyes closed and her right leg moved up, exposing much more of her thighs. I couldn't see far up her skirt because of the bad light, but I knew that I'd see her white panties if she had any. My cock came fully erect, encouraged by a smooth hand slowly caressing up and down. The hand stopped stroking me and I felt my mystery girl move her hips behind me as I continued watching the show on the other side of the aisle. A moment later, I heard soft sighs of pleasure behind me, then the hand was back on my pole. Only this time, it was wet and smelling of wonderful pussy juice. She started to stroke faster. "You know, it was her looking at us in the bathroom." I felt a surge of lust go through my whole body. I was so turned on I thought I was going to puke. "Oh, you like thinking about that!" she whispered as my cock extended at maximum, now eight inches in the air. I groaned, much louder than I would have liked to. Caroline moved again, but I was past caring about being seen. I wanted her to see my cock being massaged. I wanted her to come here and let me suck those breasts until she cries out and everyone in the bus knows how much of a slut she is. I looked directly at her face and I suddenly knew she hasn't been sleeping at all, but had her eyes open a bit. And she could see I knew. Now her hips moved up a little. Her left hand moved down, her fingers running along her thigh, then to the inside, pushing her skirt up. It was going straight for her pussy. I suddenly felt my cock head being enveloped by a delicious warmth and softness. I stifled a cry as those superb lips took me inside and I felt he tongue brush the side. "Hmm, I taste good on you," the lips said. "Please don't stop now," I said looking down at her face. She looked like a kitten enthusiastically licking a plate of milk. "Please don't stop." On the other side of the aisle, Caroline gave me a small smile, abandoning the pretence of sleeping. She started to work on her clit with her palm while slipping three fingers inside her. I felt like crying out loud! My cock was being pumped faster and faster, the grip of the lips reminding me of the anus I was in half an hour ago. She squeezed my balls and I had to grab her hand, or she would have made me come right there. I wanted to see that beautiful slut come in front of my eyes before I did that. Very soft moans were escaping from her lips now as her finger-fucking continued. She used her other hand to raise her t-shirt and massage her tits. Oh God, how I would love to do that for her! But my cock was caught in an iron grip, I wasn't going anywhere. The black-haired slut opened her month wide, but no sound came out as her hips shot up. For about three seconds I had a perfect view of her pussy, wide open with her fingers mercilessly stroking her clit. Then she collapsed with a small whimper, rolling herself into a ball. I let go of the hand and I felt my balls being squeezed hard. The ejected sperm shot through my shaft with incredible force. The lips retreated just in time to let the flow past and smear the front of my jacket. The three of us smiled at each other, all out of breath. Nobody felt the need to talk. We let the miles roll into the night. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're arriving in Sudbury. Please make sure you don't forget anything in the bus. I hope you had a pleasant drive, thank you for using Greyhound Canada." Caroline got up to get her bag from the overhead compartment, giving me a good look at her legs. She turned to us. "Thanks guys, I did have a pleasant drive… I hope you two have lots of fun together." I shot her a beaming smile, then I turned to the woman beside me. "Will you tell me your name?" The crooked smile again. "Michelle." "Nice to make your acquaintance, Michelle. Any chance I can see you again?" "Well, I'm going back to Toronto on Friday night. Care to ride with me?" "You bet!"