The electronic ticket machine beeps and clicks and I grab my card back from it. As I look up, I see that the bus is fairly full, but not so full that I'll have to stand, thankfully. There are one or two people sitting on every double seat. So I do what I usually do: I find myself a vacant seat on the right-hand side of the bus (making it easier to get to the doors, which are on the left) next to an attractive female (but hey, don't all guys do this?). From what I can see, there are quite a few to choose from -- the early Brisbane autumn feels the same as summer and so short skirts and skimpy tops are everywhere. Mind you, I can't see everyone sitting on the bus, because this is one of the models of the old Brisbane City Council buses with the high seat-backs, making it hard for passengers to see in front of them or to be seen from the front of the bus.
I make my choice and plonk myself down next to her. She seems young -- probably in first-year. Her skin is pale and creamy. Her rich-brown hair is tied up, but not too tightly - the strands at the sides either dip before the hair-tie or hang down completely, tucked behind her delicate little ears. She's not wearing much make-up, if any, and that's what I like.
She's staring out the window and looks a little tired. She has quite an ample cleavage for a thin girl, clearly visible over her low-cut, pale blue top. Her lap is covered by an old brown cotton bag that might be an old library bag, but nonetheless I can see the shortness of her white denim skirt; it barely comes a third of the way down her thighs. As the bus takes off, I try to conceal my checking her out by looking out the window beyond her. Outside it's sunny and the roads are busy.
I look in other directions: in front of me and across out the other side of the bus. Just another day of uni ahead, it seems. My thoughts are unable to venture far from the beautiful girl sitting next to me. I must keep looking at her -- I can't help myself. I keep glancing sideways at her, discreetly. I look at her legs, so smooth and shapely. I look at her breasts again, wishing for a touch. I glance momentarily at her face, hoping she isn't noticing my looking. She doesn't seem to be -- she's still staring out the window. Her face, neck, and cleavage are being lightly kissed by the sun.
When I look in front of me again, I see in my peripheral vision her face turn briefly towards mine. Did she look at me? I glance towards her again, and she looks away. Usually when I check out the girls I sit next to, they don't join in the game! I look down at her legs again, wishing that bag wasn't there so I could see more of them. I feel my heartbeat speed up a little. I notice that the gap between her leg and mine is not very far; she's not sitting with her knees together. In my peripheral vision, I see her look at me again -- not my face this time, but my body and my leg, as far as I can tell. I'm getting the beginnings of an erection. I glance at her face instinctively, and she pretends to look away. I swear I see a very little smile on her face. Whatever's going on here, I like it. I look back at our legs. As she's looking out the window, I see her leg move towards mine, so they are touching. It has to be deliberate. My pulse is pounding my head now and my dick is fully hard. I'm loving every second of this game.
I figure I'll test the waters a little, see if she's for real. I move my right hand down to my pants pocket on her side, pretending to check if my phone's there, which it is. From my pocket, I slowly and subtly move my hand down my leg, so that the backs of my fingers brush her thigh. It's smooth and firm. She doesn't move her leg away. I slowly slide my hand up my leg and then down again, making my gesture less ambiguous. I glance at her face to see her reaction. She doesn't look at me. She's looking straight ahead and still has that little smile. I can see from the movement of her breasts that her breathing is getting heavy. I wonder if she's as nervous and excited as I am. I feel her press her leg against mine as I keep stroking it with the back of my hand. This is too good to be true.
I look across at the seat opposite us. I could've sworn there were people sitting on, but it's empty. They must have gotten off the bus a couple of minutes ago. I look out the window beyond the girl. The traffic is heavy, which is common on Coronation Drive at this time of morning. This trip is going to take quite a while. For once, I'm glad it will. No one on the bus has much of a view of what we're up to, not even the driver in his mirror. It's time to have some fun.
I change hands, removing the hand I was stroking her thigh with to hold my own backpack, which is on my lap. I reach my other hand, my left, across my body and to her thigh, turning my body slightly towards her. Without either of us saying a word, I begin stroking the outside of her thigh, stopping occasionally to squeeze it. Her breathing is at its heaviest now, and she closes her eyes momentarily and spreads her legs as wide as she can in the small amount of space, that old brown bag still on top of them. I move my hand across to the inside of her thigh and underneath the corner of the bag, working my way up slowly and patiently. She grips her bag with both hands, holding it against her body so that the bottom of it still covers the upper part of her lap, still without looking into my eyes. Is she too ashamed or too shy? Closing her eyes again, I hear her say the first and only words for both of us. She whispers breathily, "Yes, do it!"
Her skirt has ridden up a little from her spreading her legs. Under her bag, my hand moves firmly up her inner thigh. As I get to her panties, she jolts a little, her heavy breathing remaining as quiet as she can keep it. I look across the bus again. Neither of us wants our game to be noticed. I rub her crotch with my fingers, feeling that her panties are soaking wet. I feel her clit through the fabric, pressing and circling. I look at her beautiful tits again and notice that her nipples are visibly erect.
