It's another cold night in the Windy City as Sharon leaves her job as a dancer at the Titty Lounge. Tonight was a better than average night for the young ebony teen (having just turned nineteen the month before). In her backpack-like purse she has well over $300 dollars in profits.
"Not bad for an eight hour shift,"she thinks as she waits in the plastic chairs of the Greyhound bus terminal for the bus that will take her to Gary, Indiana, a 30 to 45 minute trip.
Though winter is firmly gripping the area (No ice or snow, though. Thankfully.), Sharon is only wearing a light microskirt and a yellow halter-top that shows off her double D's to maximum advantage. Normally she would change before heading for the terminal, but tonight some bitch had poured champagne in her duffel bag.
Thinking of this, Sharon can only smile. It's not her fault that she regularly gets the high paying customers or the most ardent regulars. At only 5' 2", 115 pounds, with a coffee complexion and light green (not contacts) eyes, she is the most exotic woman in the club. It also doesn't hurt that she has a 48" bubble ass that is often clad in only a g-string. On one firm cheek is the tattoo of her stage name, Cherish.
"The bus for Gary..."
The announcement snaps Sharon out of her daydream. She hugs the purse to her overflowing bosom and walks through the door. Her nipples instantly firm up as the wind coldly caresses them and pushes her skirt up, giving the few people there a glimpse of her thong string disappearing between the twin globes of her ass. The bus driver, checking tickets as people board the bus, gives her a grin and cocks his head towards the bus.
"Have a good night, Shar?" he asks as the dancer hands him the ticket.
"Very good,"she purrs, lightly scratching his hand as she receives her ticket back.
Sharon makes her way to the last seat next to the bathroom. Unfortunately someone is already there. Fortunately, he's not bad looking at all. Obviously of Native American ancestry, the man has long straight hair, sharp facial features, and a body that says outdoors, even under the winter wardrobe.
As Sharon stands next to the seat, deciding whether to sit there or not, the man looks her up and down with deep brown eyes. Apparently he approves, as he lifts his bag to the overhead bin and motions for the young ebony to sit next to him.
Sharon slips into the seat just as the engine tone changes and the bus lurches backwards, easing out of its parking spot. Soon, the interior lights are cut off and the occasional street light illuminates the bus.
Sharon watches the window as late-night Chicago flashes by.
Suddenly, she feels a strong arm drape across her shoulders. She doesn't move, as secretly she is digging the attention of this silent guy. His hand begins to knead her neck with light-to-firm pressure. She looks into his face, trying to see his eyes, but it's too dark. The hand now begins to trace down her spine with a feathery touch that sends electric arcs to both her nipples and her "kitten". Unconsciously she turns her back to him, giving his hand easier access. He responds by bringing up his other hand and massaging her sides, teasingly close to her breasts.
Sharon is shocked as tension she never realized she had begins to ease away. She leans back into his chest, feeling his warmth through the light windbreaker she is wearing.
The man now begins to stroke her chest above the now heaving breasts. His fingers trace the edge of the halter-top and begin to hook themselves in the fabric and slowly bring the top down over her large jugs.