We met briefly before getting on the bus at the end of a busy work week. It was the first time we had met, although we had chatted online and on the telephone occasionally...small talk ensued, as we waited with the other passengers, all heading for home...
On the bus, we made our way to seats near the back, where less people gathered. As the bus left the city, the driver turned out the lights, and left the passengers in the darkness of dusk. As the bus crawled along the highway in the midst of rush hour traffic, the darkness grew, until you could barely see more than the outline of a few people, in the closer seats...
I grew warm, being finally out of the wintery chill, and rose to remove my coat. I placed it on my lap while we continued to talk in hushed tones. I leaned in, letting my hand slide across to your thigh, and lightly rubbed the fabric of your dress slacks. You took this as an invite, and tried the same...I chuckled, shaking my head, and said, "Not yet," removing your hand from my thigh.
I leaned in, whispering that I wanted to touch you, but did not want to be touched at all while on the bus until I blatantly said so. You agreed, thinking to yourself that this would either be a great experience, or a miserable one. I whispered for you to lean back, relax, and close your eyes...
My hand moved swiftly from your thigh to your cock, already straining against the fabric with the thoughts racing through your mind, and the images flashing in your imagination...I stroked slowly, with the outside of my hand, pressing firmly against your increasing hardness.
We continued to talk through this, and the other passengers on the bus had not a clue of what was happening. I explained that the bus trip was fairly short, and pointed out passing landmarks as I rubbed faster. You reached your hands down to undo the zipper, and I stopped you with my crooked grin, again saying simply, "Not yet."
Several times, I could feel the tension in your body as your cock pulsed towards release, but each time, the hand slowed, the contact became almost non-existent, so feathery light was the touch...and as the tension eased, the pressure and speed of my hand increased, over and over again...