The coach from Christchurch to Blenheim was fully booked and in helping two women with their heavy old-fashion leather suitcases had delayed Lewis Hall's bid to occupy a prime seat.
"Thank you kind sir," called one of the women; they, also being late to board, were seated opposite each other in aisle seats near the back.
Lugging his back-pack towards the unpopular rear seats near the stairwell to the washroom, Lewis spotted a seat, or what was left of it, as the window occupant seemed to have taken up more than his half. Hmmm, so much for the thought of holiday romance commencing with this bus trip.
"Over here, young man."
On the other side of the coach a brown-haired woman wearing brown reflective sunglasses was beckoning.
Okay, this looked more promising but perhaps she had seen him assisting with luggage and was attempting to secure personal portage.
"The aisle or my window seat?" Mrs Brown-Dressed in Black said brightly. With brown hair and those noticeable sunglasses she should have been dressed in brown and would have looked very cute, but then do chic dressed women travel by coach.
"The window seat would be grand."
"Sorry, taken," she grinned. "We can swap later."
Oh, I'm sitting beside the coach comedian, Lewis groaned to himself. And what will we swap later – spit or other bodily fluids? Not likely, she's middle-aged.
"Hi, Mallory Stokes, from Stoke-on-Trent, West Midlands, England."
Her handshake was surprisingly soft and Lewis realised she was not as old as he'd first thought – many of the wrinkles looked to be sun ageing, the woman was as tanned as a tropical native.
"Hullo, Mallory. I'm Lewis Hall from Kangaroo Island, South Australia."
"Oh, I know where that is," said Mallory. "I was there last time when I was out from the UK two years ago. Whereabouts on the island?"
"I work as an interpretive officer, probably better known to you as a ranger. At present I operate in the Dudley Peninsula/American River area."
"I know it, isn't it a small world?"
"Yeah, I suppose it is. After all I've been to Stoke-on-Trent – went as a boy with my mother as she was big into ceramics then."
"Mrs Hall? Not Doris Hall of Adelaide?"
"Yeah, you know mum?"
"I know of her, she was the post-war authority on ceramics in this part of the world through to the 1970s."
"I guess then you are into ceramics"
"Associated with the industry, I'm a historian and lecturer. That's why I'm on this coach. I stay tonight in Blenheim and then go on to Nelson to participate as a guest presenter at guild-sponsored workshops for potters."
They chatted for a while and during a pause Mallory drifted off to sleep. A little later she stirred and leaned into Lewis' shoulder, pulling his arm around her. He found himself cupping her breast, a nice firm breast it seemed; she made no attempt to shake his hand away. His penis stirred slightly as if sensing romance was on the way.
Lewis fell asleep once they coach had left the city behind and was heading towards the coastal town of Kaikoura. According to his travel information they would have lunch there. Tourists gathered there to go offshore to see whales.
Lewis awoke from his doze to find Mallory struggling to unzip him. The cheek of the woman, she could have asked! At least she had the finesse to have them partly covered with her pillow,
"Hi, you're awake to find me fiddling," she grinned, no longer wearing her sunglasses. "I'm taking a risk I know, but it's calculated because you were working my nipple sometime ago. I feel like playing."
Slightly embarrassed, Lewis felt her get into a good rhythm.
"Are you going to shoot it all over your clothes, and probably mine?"
"No, I'll just slide down and gobble you at the right moment. Those two people opposite are the only ones with a good view, and they are dozing. I'll be discrete."
"Do you do this often?"
"Often, yes, but to strangers no. This is only my second time I've been so bold."
"Jesus."
"Don't you take risks?"
"Er, yes."
"I bet," she giggled, looking up at Lewis' flushed face.
Mallory burrowed her other hand in and gently squeezed and bounced his balls, causing Lewis to get up to speed with his heavy breathing.
Actually, though Lewis, he should be grateful; she's actually very good. Some dames give you the impression they're stripping off layers of skin in their quest for cum.
"I'm about to spray?" he whispered. "Your hand is soft and very talented."
She flashed him a smile and swooped down, Lewis staying still to avoid excessive movement attracting the attention of their dozing neighbours across the aisle.
Cool lips slid over his cock-head, and then retreated a little and her tongue flicked around presumably for pre-cum. Mallory squeezed his balls a little harder and obediently they tightened to precipitate their role in the flow of fluids.
Lewis was unable, of course, to feel his cum entering her mouth – but he could feel it leaving the core of his cock. He tried to image what her cunt would look like and that generated another gush, he was certain of that.
Seconds later Mallory's head bounced up beside his that was already turned in her direction, his shoulder helping to conceal their near-public display of illicit sexuality. Cum dripped from her face and her eyes were bright and smiling. Oh no, he thought – she's going to tongue me with her mouth awash with my own cum.
That's exactly what she did. What the fuck women see in this obscene exchange of cum is a real mystery to me, mused Lewis, with a little grimace, quite overlooking his fondness for cunt lapping. At such times with that job done, he'd often want an immediate resumption in tongue-around-tongue kissing with his lady friend.
"Did you enjoy the taste of that?" asked Mallory, as if attempting to assess Lewis' boundaries.
"It was okay, but I must say I prefer oysters."
"Here, let my wipe your mouth – you've got a tell-tale track of oyster juice," she giggled. "I almost need a towel to clean my face!"
"Here, use my handkerchief. I reckon that one falls within my best ten ever; you have such a soft touch and didn't allow a drop to spill on my shorts. Thank you. Here, allow me to wipe your mouth."
As soon as he had her face cleaned, Lewis kissed Mallory thoroughly.
As Lerwis leaned back into his seat she looked at him expectantly.
"Now what?" she asked sounding innocent, slowly pulling her dress up towards her hips.
Lewis hastily said they ought to take a break. They'd have a half-hour stop at Kaikoura so perhaps they could wander off and later grab some sandwiches and drinks on the way back to the coach.
"You've got a nice cock, a strong one too."
Lewis turned red, his ears burned. That was one of the nicest things a woman had ever said to him sexually, even his wife Pam was not into praising his meat stick. Grunting an acknowledgement, he wondered if there would be something coming up to prompt him to return the compliment.
During a break in conversation, Lewis wondered if Mallory were married. He decided not to ask: there seemed little sense in reminding Mallory that she had a husband – not when he had full-on adultery in mind. Hell, if coach trips were normally this rewarding, he'd travel by them more often – when motoring by himself he had only the radio/CD player for amusement.
