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.
