The Last Seat

Warm, trembling fingers touched the side of my 38 D breast and I was woken from the lull of sleep. The bus was still in darkness and the light purr of the engine threatened to sing me back to sleep. If only it hadn't been for the strange hand trying to access my forbidden fruit. There was so much notoriety in the act that it made my groin throb. I closed my eyes again pretending to have noticed nothing. I pulled the light shawl over my shoulders only to give easy access to who it was. I tried to calm my beating heart, and began to breathe as deeply as I could to put the stranger at ease. A few minutes passed and the stranger shifted on his buttocks then a tentative finger was extended in my direction. I felt the tip of the finger press gently into my soft fleshy breast. It sent an electric charge down to my pussy. I muffled a gasp. Slowly but surely the fingers slipped over my breast until the tips touched my nipple lightly. There was no movement for the next few minutes and I waited impatiently.

Just as my breast grew accustomed to the warmth the hand moved a little again until the palm cupped the swell of my breast and two fingers held my nipple a prisoner. I heard an intake of breath from my neighbour. My own heart skipped and trotted at the touch. Slowly the tip of his middle finger moved on my erect nipple. I was so turned on. This carried on until my nipple turned raw and just as I was about to push his hand away out of sheer boredom the hand moved into action.

I felt my nipple being pinched and pulled and his breathing became hoarse.

I hadn't moved a centimeter since he had started molesting me and that made him confident. His hand moved ahead. He crossed the valley of my breasts and moved to the other one. He squeezed harder than before. Did he know I was awake and partaking in the pleasure? I hoped not. My pussy throbbed with excitement and I could only guess at the condition of his cock.

His hand began to move freely between both my breasts, squeezing hard and kneading my over ripe jewels. I hoped he had plans to suckle on my hard nipples. The hands stopped for a moment and my heart beat in anticipation. He began to feel my blouse then his fingers honed in on the buttons. He circled a button with a finger tip then precariously unbuttoned it. Then another and another until the front came lose. He pushed the blouse away from my jugs and began to feel my lace bra. He liked the feel of it, coz for a long while he touched both my breasts on top of my bra. I began to grow restless again. Touch bare skin, my heart cried.

I pretended to move in my sleep and turned a little to press my back into him. He had easy access to my hooks now. It was now or never.

In no time he had unhooked my bra, a smile played around my lips. A warm trembling hand came to rest on one breast and I gasped audibly. Then cursed myself and waited in agony at the consequence. The hand stayed where it was and try as I may I couldn't breathe evenly. In fact to make things worse I began to tremble. The hand moved to where my heart was and stayed there feeling. Both hands came to cup my breasts, mauling and kneading roughly the soft silken flesh. He knew I was awake. He began to breathe hoarsely, then all of a sudden stopped, slipped down from his seat, pressed against one of my legs then sat on his knees crouching before me under the fall of my shawl completely out of sight.

He hugged me around my waste trying to feel my bare skin against him, his face between my breasts. He rubbed his cheeks between them breathing deeply and contentedly then grabbed hold of one breast and began to suckle on my breast like a starved man. Milk began to flow freely again. My two year old had only recently been weaned. I gasped too, my pussy flooding immediately. I tried to picture him in the dark.

He was probably in his twenties. A college student perhaps, muscular and ruggedly handsome. His stubble scraped my soft skin. My fingers curled into the back of his head pulling him closer to suckle me harder. He did not disappoint me, juggling between both my breasts. He stopped. There was no milk to have. He kissed my belly button and I pushed his head out of my shawl and kissed him on the lips. His hand roughly pulled my lips back and we locked in a passionate kiss. He sucked my inviting mouth for a whole ten minutes. He held my face between his hands and we gazed into each others face in the dark.

"Thank you," he whispered.

His hand slipped between my thighs and I began to tremble again. He parted my sodden panties and a cool finger dipped into the molten lava of my volcano. I gasped my head pushed back into the seat and I stayed there for the next few minutes. His finger dove back and forth into my open vagina, circling, rubbing,shoving until I was writhing. With a gasp I came in his hand. He lifted his fingers and smelt my juices, then as if driven crazy dived between my legs. He lapped up hungrily biting and sucking on my full swollen lips until I came again with a shudder, half spent.

The lights flicked on, he quickly covered my nakedness with the shawl, collected his things and got off at his stop without a backward glance. I never saw him again but every time I take a ride home alone I remember him and I bet he remembers me too.