The Bus Home

I see you, and smile. It is late going home, the sky already dark, but your eyes smile back and your smile lights my way as I squeeze past the crush of people to stand in front of you. We have often caught the bus together, but have never spoken, our eyes often finding one another, flirting with secret smiles. As the bus travels, more passengers get onboard, adding to the almost overwhelming crush. Our bodies are forced closer together, touching for the first time. I feel your breasts press against my chest, your thighs against mine as we struggle for balance. Your eyes and mine are locked together, inches apart.

My gaze travels down the smooth skin of your face, over soft lips and delicate chin, to your slim neck and shoulders, covered by a white shirt. My eyes drop lower to your breasts, the outlines of your white bra clearly showing though the white fabric. Your breasts are crushed together, the dark valley between them beckoning to be kissed. My eyes return to yours, and you smile, a knowing look between two lovers.

My right hand is at my side empty as my left holds the strap above my head. Your strap is next to mine as we continue to be firmly held together by the crush around us. I see your eyes dip downward as mine did, your smile growing, teeth showing. With a start I feel my cock, hard in my pants, throbbing, pressing against you. I feel your hips press forward, grinding back against me, delicious feelings.

My right hand now travels unseen between us. I feel you gasp a little as my fingers trace across your thigh, slowly moving inward. I can feel the bumps as my fingers trace of the edge of your panties, hidden beneath your skirt. As my fingers slow, I can feel the heat that is coming from between your legs. Your eyes still watch mine, although I can see that you lose focus as my fingertips gently trace the outlines of your pussy through the two layers of fabric. I can feel your nipples as they press out of your shirt, breasts pressing harder against my chest.

I can feel the warmth penetrate my fingers as I trace gently up and down. Your breath is coming in quiet gasps as you struggle to keep those around us from discovering our secret. The man to our right has his back to us, safely oblivious to our pleasure, everyone else blocked from view by our own sandwiched bodies. I apply more pressure, and I can feel your pussy lips gently parting beneath my persistent fingers. You drop your head a little, no longer holding my gaze. You part your legs, ever so slightly, just enough. I feel your hand move across my thigh as it races to join mine. You stroke my cock gently through my pants, all the way from its roots to its firm head, straining against the fabric of my trousers. You squeeze it firmly, just for a second, before you cover my hand with yours. This gentle intimacy, unaware of anyone else on board the bus.

I feel you press harder, encouraging me. I respond, pushing against where I know your clit to be, and am rewarded by your head dropping to my shoulder. A soft moan, too gentle for anyone else to hear, then your hand is pulling mine away. For a moment I am lost, unsure as to what you want me to do. You move my hand up the front of your skirt, and rest it on the row of buttons that hold it together.

You look up, mischievous and naughty from the corner of your eye. Your hand goes back and continues to stroke my cock. I feel four buttons in a row. I start at the bottom, undoing two, leaving the others. My fingers slip quietly inside, stroking flesh for the first time. I slide my fingertips over the silky skin and down, slipping under the waistband of your underpants. The first tufts of hair pass by as you slightly turn your body to the right, easing my passage. My fingers pass over your mound, index finger sliding down into warm wetness. Your pussy lips open as my finger passes between them, moistness spreading. I pass around your clit, now swollen and sensitive. Further down, until my fingertip just enters you. You stop breathing, and I stop.

The bus continues on its merry way, people jostling, unaware of the pleasure we experience. I slide my finger back up to your clit, knowing the urgency. I massage swiftly, smoothly, stirring your clit in little circles. Your hand has stopped stroking me, and your head is resting once again on my shoulder. I feel your body jerk, ever so softly, as my fingers stir your feelings higher. I slide them down, and one, then two slide deep within you, touching the soft inner walls gently. I plunge them swiftly in and out, feeling your pussy capture them with its tight ring of muscle. I rush them back to your clit, soaked in your juices. All pretense gone I capture it between two fingers and massage quickly. I feel your body tense, hips pushing hard against my hand, trying to stay as still as possible.

The bus rattles and shakes, hiding your movement. I see you bite your lip, and you moan into my shoulder as I feel your orgasm take hold. Your body rigid, hand painfully squeezing my cock as I massage your clit through powerfull pleasures. I can see that you want to cry out as you cum, but you are deliciously contained, making the pleasure last and last. I slow down as your body starts to relax, and I feel your hand gradually lose its grip. You lift your head and smile at me as I gently, quietly slip my hand out from the gap in your skirt. Your hand is busy for only a second, and the buttons are done.

Just in time, as the bus starts to slow down for your stop. I feel another tight squeeze on my cock, and then you are gone, out between grumpy commuters and into the night. I see a small wave as the bus accelerates away, gone until the next interesting ride home.