Maras Free Use Journey Pt 01

BZZZ BZZZ BZZZ BZ--

With a jolt, I opened my eyes, going through the practiced motion of swiftly turning off my ever-annoying alarm clock. After a much-needed yawn-stretch combo, I took a second to move my curls from in front of my face, to slightly to the side, so that they no longer obstruct my vision. They really were getting too long.

Before I could fully process waking up, I was overtaken by excitement for the events today promised, a rush of energy permeating through my body, seemingly manifesting out of nowhere as I jumped out of bed.

Today's the day! I can't believe it's finally here! The day I finally get my Free Use Provider trainee license, or the FUP permit in short. The minimum age requirement to get the permit was to be 21 years of age, and lo and behold, today was my 21st birthday.

I'm not a morning person AT ALL, but today, I got myself dressed with a zeal I'm not used to. Even brushing my teeth was fun, as I gave myself a toothy smile in the medicine cabinet mirror. Today was special, so I took WAY more time than usual for my morning routine, getting in a long, exfoliating, warm shower, followed by a methodical moisturizing of my arms, legs, and face. The last thing I did before leaving the bathroom was apply the curling mousse to my hair, giving my curls a wavy, natural-sheen finish, perfectly soft to the touch.

In my bedroom, I sifted through my wardrobe, settling on a satin yellow thong, a light blue yoke skirt, and an off-shoulder teal top with a jade pattern dotted onto its midline. I quickly looked over at my assortment of bras before making my decision. Won't be needing those today, I say, relishing in the freeing feeling. The skirt was far shorter, and the top was far smaller than I typically wore. My most revealing set, leaving little to the imagination for the contents of my sizable bust and shapely legs, but for today, it made sense.

Before leaving the house I did a quick do-over of myself in the full-body length mirror in my living room. I stared back at my reflection, pursing over the details. About 5'8, and taller than most girls I knew. Brown eyes. Shoulder-length curly, jet-black hair, sitting on my naturally tan, olive skin, owing to my Brazilian roots. A face that would be considered possibly universally cute to quite attractive, with a small beauty mark under my right eye, save for the small, rosy lips I was always insecure about. My breasts aren't the biggest, at 34D, but sit perfectly on my athletic, curvy frame, and the skimpy top was doing some real heavy lifting in making my existing ample cleavage even more alluring. The outfit finishes off with the bare skirt, tightly hugging my moderate sized, yet well-toned butt. The squats are definitely paying off, I thought to myself.

As quickly as I could, I grabbed my phone, wallet, and apartment keys, and left the building, heading to the bus station a 5-minute walk away, en route to the FUP administrative headquarters. Once the bus arrived, I eagerly got on and found my seat, my right foot tapping the ground rhythmically with excitement as I inched closer and closer to the dream I had had for so many years.

3 seats in front of me to my right sat a woman with Caucasian features who looked to be in her late 20s, with long, straight, blonde hair, tied into a ponytail. Unlike me, she had on a maroon-red blouse, holding a briefcase, presumably for work, in her lap. Though no cleavage was showing, the blouse did little to hide her ample boobs. On the upper-left side of her blouse was a small metallic plaque, with the number 43 printed on it, a small green triangle pointing upwards, and another small red triangle pointing downwards situated to the right of the green triangle, both right under the number 43.

A provider!

I could barely contain my excitement. They weren't rare to see or hard to find at all, but given today's circumstances, I felt it must have been a sign. My heart was beating, I got up to go sit next to the woman, hoping to strike up a conversation, but before I could do so, a man who had just gotten on the bus at the stop prior walked up to the woman before whispering something into her ear. Dejectedly, I slowly sat back down in my seat. The man stood at about 5'11 and had a head full of salt and pepper colored hair: an attractive, masculine look befitting what appeared to be his mid-30s age, made better by his wide, imposing build.

Without another word, the woman started to subtly undo the seams of her blouse, slowly revealing her milky, flush-pink boobs and bubblegum pink nipples. The man took his right hand and placed it firmly on the woman's right breast, before giving it a squeeze, the bulge in his pants becoming ever more present. The woman, with practiced efficiency, undid the man's pants, revealing a modest 6.5 inches long, about 5 inches in girth, uncircumcised peachy cock. She takes it in her left hand and begins stroking it as the man uses his own hands to explore more of the woman's bust.

The two paint a carnal picture. The man's penis throbs in pleasure, his shaft veins becoming more and more visible, as he leaks precum like a fountain, the experienced woman focusing her undivided attention on the man's pleasure. Her pace is constant and unchanging, not too fast and not too slow. The man's already fully erect penis seems to bulge even more at the metronomic sensation, but this could also have been a trick of my mind's eye.

I am entranced at the sight. An unknown amount of time passes as I feel my own pussy warm up, a slight shiver of eager pleasure shooting up my spine, as I myself begin unconsciously rubbing my vagina through the cotton material of my skirt, unable to take my eyes off of the two. Others on the bus went about their work or leisure, on their phones and in their newspapers, barely batting an eye.

I saw the man bend down once more, whispering into the woman's ear, before she let go of his penis, the plump cherry tip now revealed and free from its foreskin, taking his cock into her mouth. The two work a rhythmic medley. At first, the man stands still, the woman putting her tongue and throat to work as she bobbed her head up and down on the man's member. Following this, the man began thrusting back and forth himself, taking the liberty to fuck the woman's face, emitting a robust slapping sound as the man's balls make contact with the woman's chin, spittle dripping onto the floor of the bus.

The sight elicits a muffled groan from my mouth at the provocative sight as I feel a slight damp wetness on the finger that I had been unknowingly using to massage my pussy. When the hell did I start touching myself?

Less than 30 seconds pass of the thrusting before the man moans and it is evident the woman has swallowed his cum load, the motion of gulping evident in her throat, a satisfied smirk taking over the man's face, as he leaned down for the last time, planting a kiss on the woman's lips.

The sight leaves me shaking, nearly uncontrollably in anticipation. Wait Mara, just wait. It'll be your time so soon girl, you got this, I tell myself. The man swiftly puts away his now spent cock as the bus pulls up to the station. Before he left, he pressed the upwards pointing green arrow on the plaque sitting on the woman's blouse, a small ding ringing out, as the number jumped from 43 to 44, a smile showing proudly on the woman's face.

Wait Mara wait. That'll be you soon enough after you get your permit. Just sit tight while we get there, I tell myself again, having now reeled in my urges. All that is left is a steady determination.

Seemingly hours later, but in reality just a couple minutes, the bus finally reached my stop as I veritably leaped out of it, staring at the towering FUP administrative building in front of me.

I can't help but smile.

From anticipation? From excitement? From hornyness? A combination of all 3?

I didn't know. I didn't care. All that mattered was that I was finally here!

Here goes nothing!