It had been an amazing game, even though Marianne didn't really understand what was going on. She had been told by some of her fellow school pupils that the score was really close right to the closing seconds, until Connell had burst away and scored. Seconds later the referee had blown his whistle for the end of the game, and they had won.
Whilst the team had collected their kit from the changing room, the spectators had piled back onto the bus to head back to school. Marianne had found a seat halfway down the bus, but as usual she was sitting alone, no-one ever wanted to sit and talk with her; she never wanted them too.
Then a cheer went up, as the players began to climb onto the bus. They were cheered like conquering heroes, slapped on the back, applauded, and Marianne watched as they made their way to the back of the bus to join their friends, the 'in crowd'.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over her, and as she turned to see what was happening, she gasped slightly as Connell was placing his kit bag on the rack above her, then sitting down beside her.
She couldn't breathe, she couldn't focus, she couldn't compute. What was going on? Why was Connell sitting down beside her? But she daren't ask. She could feel herself blushing, her heartrate was rocketing, she could smell his sweat, it was intoxicating.
Then they were off, the bus was moving, bouncing along the road, the half-hour journey back to school, but Marianne felt as if she was floating.
Marianne was desperate to say something, anything, but what? She didn't know how to talk about the game, didn't know the correct terminology, she was scared of sounding foolish. So, she just sat there, still blushing, her heart still pounding in her chest and her ears.
But more frighteningly, her nipples had stiffened, and she could feel her pussy tingling, and getting wet. God! She was excited, and he was just sitting next to her.
Her mind was going into overdrive, all sorts of thoughts were crashing through it, everything around her was a blur.
Then, suddenly, she felt something.
There was a pressure on her leg.
Marianne looked down and nearly screamed. She closed her eyes and counted to three and reopened them. The hand was still there.
Connell's hand was on her leg. On the fabric of her skirt, just above the knee.
What should she do? What should she say? Holy Fuck! This was strange.
As she continued to look at the hand, her vision appeared to go a little fuzzy, and then she realised that for at least the last thirty seconds she had not breathed.
Trying not to make it too obvious, Marianne gulped in some air, hoping that the hand on her leg was not some oxygen starved hallucination. The hand remained, in fact it squeezed harder, and moved a little higher.
The pounding in her heart increased. She was sitting in a crowded bus, with the hero of the hour sitting beside her, and he was touching her leg. What if someone saw them?
Scared of making any noise, Marianne clamped her mouth shut and began to breath deeply in and out of her nose. Now any whimpering, groaning, moaning, or screaming she might like to do would be completely muffled.
Then the hand moved again. Slowly, sliding up and down her quad, stroking gently, but lovingly, like you might stroke a pet. And how she wished she wasn't wearing a long, past the knee, skirt and thick opaque 50 denier tights, and instead had miniskirt and sheer tights, she would feel his hand so much more intimately.
Marianne began breathing in time with Connell's stroking, in when his hand moved up her leg and out when it went down. It was the only way she could control herself.
She closed her eyes and just wallowed in the sensations that coursed from her leg through the rest of her body.
All of a sudden, her eyes popped open. The feeling had changed.
Looking down onto her leg, Marianne couldn't believe what she was seeing. Somehow or other, with his stroking, Connell had managed to cause the hem of her skirt to ride up, so that it was now halfway up her thigh, and his hand was now mostly stroking her tights.
Marianne nearly screamed in surprise, but the excitement of the situation, resulted in her groaning, albeit muffled, loudly instead, causing Connell to pause with his stroking, momentarily. Oh, how she wished she did have sheer tights on then his skin would be so close to hers. In her minds eye, she pictured his hand on her naked flesh, and she shivered with pleasure.
However, the lack of any further response from the stunned Marianne emboldened him, and Connell began his deliberate stroking again.
Slowly, the hem of her skirt inched its way further up her thigh, and Marianne tried to look around her, to see if any of their fellow passengers were watching or could see what was happening.
But, without making it obvious to Connell himself, and she didn't want to make eye contact with him in case it shattered the illusion, she couldn't tell, so she resigned herself to the possibility that they might be being watched.
Marianne sat there beginning to enjoy the soft stroking sensation, until Connell's movements changed, and his hand began to slide in between her legs. Instinctively, she momentarily went to snap her thighs closed, but then passion took over, and she actually opened them just slightly wider, making his access just a little easier. She didn't want this to stop.
Now, Connell began to slide his hand up and down the inside of her thigh, again as before each time inching ever so slowly higher. It was delicious and so tantalising, and again Marianne found her breathing and heart rate increasing, and her pussy began to tingle as well.
Closing her eyes again, she lost herself in the sensations that coursed through her body. As Connell's hand crept higher and higher along her thigh, so all her senses seemed to be heightened and her body was on fire. She could feel the tingling in her pussy beginning to grow, and she almost felt ashamed that her body was betraying her. But still she let his hand edge higher and higher.
Marianne still had her mouth tightly closed, sure that she would not be able to keep silent should she open it, but it did not stop her from being vocal. Excited muffled moans and groans still escaped, and the intensity of them increased as Connell's hand got closer and closer to her panty-covered crotch.
Suddenly, his hand was there, the outside of his hand between her thighs, gently pressed against her sex, and Marianne groaned loudly. She had to see what was happening and her eyes shot open, first looking down, as if to convince herself that what she was feeling was real, then sideways to look at what Connell was doing.
She was stunned to find him looking straight ahead, robotically, not looking at her or down at where his hand now pressed more firmly against her damp, excited, fabric-covered labia, moving again faster and in such a way as to enflame her body even more.
Marianne couldn't believe what he was doing to her. He was going to make her climax, just through this simple movement, although she was pretty sure that the actual person, and the situation were having a massive part in her impending orgasm as well.
To Marianne's horror and amazement, Connell's movements became even more hurried, and she could feel bolts of electricity crashing through her body as her orgasm rushed towards its impending and inevitable conclusion.
Suddenly, the bus jolted violently, and her pussy was rammed against Connell's hand, and she exploded, her body trembling and jerking like crazy. With one hand, she immediately covered her mouth, and her other she slapped down on top of Connell's, not wanting it to leave her crotch, but also desperate for it to stop teasing her sensitive flesh.
She glanced out through the window of the bus, too embarrassed to look directly at Connell, and was shocked to see that the jolt had been caused by the bus driving over the speed bumps at the entrance to the School. They were back, and everyone would begin piling off the bus. They were bound to be found out.
However, Connell, was well aware and quickly yanked his hand back and had Marianne's skirt pulled back down over her knees before she could move. She breathed a sigh of relief as she tried to compose her still erratic breathing and her flushed face.
As the bus drew to a halt, Connell was quickly on his feet. Standing in the aisle, and turning slightly towards Marianne to retrieve his kit bag from the rack, Marianne could not help but notice the significant bulge in his joggers. She gasped, he had been turned on too.
Masturbating her had also make him excited. God, how she wished she could repay him in some way, give him the same pleasure that he had given her. But she just sat there, calming herself, until she was the last on the bus, before she rose and walked off, a smile on her face.
