You're in My Seat

There's a few weeks left of high school and sadly I'm riding the bus, something I haven't done since ninth grade. It's not something a person of my standing at school does very often, but it couldn't be helped—my car's in the shop, my boyfriend's away at a rugby tournament, and I didn't really feel like calling any of my other friends. The fact is, they are more my friends by proximity than anyone I really feel close to and since we're almost done with high school and all going in different directions, I'm not too concerned.

I used to know what I wanted from life, but now I'm not so sure. I feel bad for whining about it, I mean most of the other people on this bus would kill to be in the position I'm in—I'm somewhat popular, attractive, dating one of the hottest jocks, and generally regarded as pretty elevated in the high school hierarchy. I've even got good enough grades that I'm going to a great university next year. Sadly, I'm just not happy—it feels like I need more.

The yellow bus fills as it winds its way closer to school, but no one has made a move to sit with me. Senior privilege I suppose. But by the time we're at the last stop, there are no other options for seating. The bus is smelly, noisy, and full.

"You're in my seat." A deep, but achingly familiar voice addresses me. If what he's saying is true, then it is senior privilege that his seat was untouched.

Looking up, Carter Winters is standing with his messenger bag hanging off his shoulder in front of him, wearing his usual jeans and t-shirt. He's definitely filled out a bit in the past few years, although he's still lanky, and his shirt clings in all the right spots. He seems taken aback when he realizes it's me.

"Sorry, Carter, I didn't know. Can we share?" I give him my most winningest smile and hope he accepts. Actually, I guess he has to accept, there's really nowhere else to go.

Years ago sitting next to him would have given me palpitations, but that was back when we were in grade school together. I had a huge crush on him, but I also had an over-bite, awful hair, and no discernible curves. There's no way I would have even spoken to him because I was also pretty shy—and so was he. Instead I would stare at him from behind my books and dream of us together. In all honesty I still had a thing for Carter, but it wasn't socially acceptable to admit it.

"Sure Ally," he said with a gulp.

Carter was still fairly shy, and the high school hierarchy had not been nice to him. He developed terrible acne in tenth grade that seems to finally be gone and never really got involved with any activities that I know of. As he moves his bag to sit down, I can't help but look at the front of his jeans. They're a bit tight, too, clearly showing that he's hanging left, and there's something of great interest in there—a very good sized bulge. I shift a bit in my seat to make it seem like I'm making more room, but really I want his thigh touching mine. My black lace thong moves with me under my khaki shorts and I can feel a little bit of pressure just where I like it, and maybe some wetness, too.

Carter had a starring role in a lot of my late night fantasies when I was younger, so even though I'm older now, it's still an overwhelming thrill to be so close to him. Especially since the outline of his cock just looks so...delicious. I can't help but lick my lips as my eyes shift to his lap, and if I'm not mistaken, the lump in his pants has gotten...bigger. Carter moves his bag to cover his lap and I try not to groan in frustration. I wonder if he noticed me staring?

"So, um, Ally, why are you on the bus?" Carter stutters, obviously a bit unnerved, his longish dirty-blonde bangs falling in front of his blue-grey eyes.

"To get to school," I say in a teasing tone, pushing an errant lock of my long hair behind my ear, but really aching to reach across and fix his hair.

Carter blushes, flipping his head back, tossing his bangs out of his eyes in a practiced gesture. I feel bad about my flippant answer. I've been in his position—feeling awkward in every conversation—and it's not good.

"My car needs brakes and Paul's away," I offer gently, trying to make sure he doesn't feel stupid for initiating conversation with me.

"Oh. Uh..I'm surprised you didn't ask someone else to take you, you know, one of your friends?"

"They aren't really my friends so much, they're just people I hang around with."

He gives me a confused stare, his eyes piercing me, "You always look like you're having a good enough time." He's been watching?

"I guess, but none of it's real, you know? The end of school is coming and I have nothing of value to show for it."

"At least you've done things." If only he knew the things I've done. "I'm holding out hope that university will be better. That's what adults always tell me." He shrugs in a self-depreciating way.

"I'm terrified for university, what if everyone realizes that I don't belong there?" I quickly admit.

"Of course you belong there, you're Ally Patton. I'm just Carter Winters." Again with the shrug. God, I wish he could see himself the way I see him, he's way more than 'just' anyone.

"Popularity in high school definitely doesn't translate to popularity at university, Carter. I'd rather be a person of substance. Honestly, most of the time I feel like a giant phony, I'm not even sure why I hang around those people." Our conversation has gotten far deeper than I'd ever intended.

He nods as the bus groans into the school parking lot. I wish this didn't have to end. Now that I know Carter is on the bus, I decide against looking for a ride home tonight. Although our talk is serious, the thrill of his leg pressed against mine has me excited and wanting more.

"Can I sit with you again on the way home?" I ask as the bus jostles to a stop and the doors creak open.

"You want to sit with me?" he asks, incredulous.

I turn towards him, "accidentally" brushing my the side of my breast against his upper arm, my nipples hardening immediately—I'm pretty sure he notices the tightened buds straining against my shirt. "I'd love to."

"Uh...sure, I guess."

The thrill of Carter's leg against mine and his arm on my breast follows me all day—it's something I haven't experienced in awhile. My boyfriend, Paul, and I definitely have a sexual relationship, or had—but Paul's just not that good. I mean size-wise he's fine but he lacks any sort of finesse in bed. He's not really a giving lover, if you know what I mean. It's like the only thing my pussy is good for is for him to fuck, and fuck hard until he's done.

Paul isn't interested in my tits or any sort of foreplay where he shows me attention, although he loves me to suck his cock. In the eight months we've been going out the one time sex was really good with him was when we went to one of his teammates' cottage.

Over spring break, things got a bit wild and we ended up in a bit of a group thing. Paul's friend from rugby, Ty, invited some people for a party at his cottage about an hour away. There was a freak snowstorm (not totally unheard of here), and in the end, Paul and I were the only other couple that showed up. Paul had insisted it was a late birthday party for me, as I had turned 18 a week before, but it seemed more important to him that we go than to me.

Since we were snowbound and Ty brought enough booze for at least ten people, we got drunk pretty quickly. The satellite tv went out due to the storm, so we played strip poker to pass the time at Angel's suggestion.

As the cards were being dealt, the sexual tension in the room was building—a comment here, a glance there. Ty's girlfriend, Angel, wasn't very good at cards and ended up naked first—her nipples puckered into sharp points on her huge tits due to the draughty room and her obvious arousal; when she finally lost her skimpy white thong it was soaked through with her juices, making it almost transparent.

Angel was one of those girls that was into pretty much everything and had a wild reputation, but had the hot body to back it up. Plump lips, luscious curves, tiny waist and a tight ass, topped with raven hair that falls in waves to her lower back. She's totally hot, I mean my c-cup breasts are nice, but her tits are magnificent.

Paul was out second, his pubes and chest hair were neatly trimmed and his veiny cock was already semi-hard as he quickly shucked his boxers. Paul isn't a tall guy, but he is stocky and solid with really nicely muscled legs and a tight ass that he seemed to enjoy showing to Angel when he bent over to remove his boxers.

Ty and I played fast and furious for the title of victor, but my full house beat his pair, so he stood up and slid his boxer briefs slowly down over his ass, releasing his hard cock that was straining to come out. It stood out straight, girthy and about seven inches long, shaking from side to side as he wiggled his midsection so that his underwear puddled at his feet. He kicked them aside and a shiny drop of precum oozed at the tip of his aroused member. I tried not to drool, but it was so tasty looking.

"Looks like you're the odd one out, Ally," Angel said, as she ran her manicured finger up and down her leg. "Maybe you're a bit too shy to get naked with us? Get freaky with us?"

It was an odd thing for her to say. She didn't know me back when I was quiet, but those words were like waving a red flag in front of a bull. I'd spent a long time getting past my insecurities, and there was no way I was going to go back to my old shy self.

"Fuck you." I stood right in front of her and dropped my bra, massaging my tits with one hand, tugging my underwear off with the other.

"Looks like she wants to play, Paul," Ty said as he started to gently tug on his cock. More precum gathered at the tip and began to drip into the plush rug. Paul ran his tongue across his lips, grabbed his own fully hardened cock and looked back to me.

"What do you want to do?" he said to me. I wanted that pearl of precum in my mouth but I didn't say that.

"I think we need to get fucked, don't you, Angel?" I responded, voice growling with lust. Angel was panting, sitting on her knees between the guys' two hard cocks. I could see her almost drooling, eyeing the banquet before her.

Ty seized the moment, taking us both by the hand, leading Angel and I to the master bedroom where a kingsize bed was just waiting for us to dirty the sheets. Paul followed closely behind, bringing a bottle of champagne with him.

"Get on the bed, ladies," Ty commanded. When we did, Angel and I laying side by side, with our legs on the floor and asses at the edge, Paul took the champagne and shook some on us. The cold, fizzing drink hitting my aroused body was fantastic, I could feel my pussy clenching and dripping.

"I'm so wet. Please..." I put my hand down to my slick slit and dip my finger deep into my gushing hole then move it across my quivering clit. I knew that Angel was doing the same thing next to me, I could see her hand moving as she eyed the throbbing cocks at the end of the bed.

"Fuck meee," Angel begged, her movements getting jerkier as she brought herself closer to orgasm. "I need your cock in me."

"What do you say, Paul? Should we give these bitches what they want?" Ty asked with a wicked grin on his face, as he stroked his meaty erection. He sprayed us with a little more champagne causing Angel and I to moan and quiver.

Paul watched Ty for a second, then with hunger in his eyes he plunged his dick balls deep into my pussy. Filling my empty hole with pounding force, nothing gentle about it. It was like the guys were in a competition, Paul kept looking over to Angel and Ty, matching him stroke for stroke.

Ty wanted it to last for Angel's benefit, so Paul slowed, following Ty's lead. Because the guys were standing, it gave me access to my throbbing clit, allowing me to finger myself while being fucked, something that I didn't usually have time for when Paul screwed me.

Hearing Angel's lusty moans next to me and the angle of penetration were fuel for my building orgasm. I had an itch that I needed to get scratched. My tits were bouncing with every thrust and I pinched at my nipples with one hand while I rocked my clit with the other.

"Oh fuck ladies, you're so hot," Ty groaned, thrusting into Angel harder.

"So fucking hot," Paul said, looking over to the other couple, pounding me harder.

The pressure was building in my cunt and I could feel an orgasm, a huge orgasm, building. My mind was spinning, my back arching, my fingers strumming my clit into a frenzy. Then I felt the spasm of release, my pussy gushing with my girl juice.

"I'm cumming, ohhh fuck, cumming." My shrieks pushing everyone else over the tipping point. I could see Ty's whole body clench as he shot his load into Angel, triggering her orgasm. Her fists tore at the bedding as she bucked and shrieked.

"Fuckkk..." Paul groaned, his eyes on Ty's throbbing rod plunging into Angel. Suddenly Paul pulled out of my clenching pussy shooting his load in long hot streams, cum painting up and down my body. There was some in my hair, on my tits, and pooling on my belly.

"Man, that was hot." Ty said, leaning down to give Angel a long hot kiss.

I was still dizzy from the best orgasm I ever had with Paul when he walked to the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel, tossing it to me so I could clean myself up. I was jealous of the fact that Ty and Angel seemed so happy afterwards, kissing and still aroused, but romance isn't Paul's strong suit. We fucked one more time that night—he took me from behind when I woke to his hard cock pressed against my ass, but the next morning we packed up and went home and that was it.

Since then, the sex has been almost non-existent, not that I mind. Like I said, Paul isn't a giving lover and at this point I'm only with him out of habit. I get the impression that it's kind of the same for him, I mean I know I'm not the love of his life.

He wasn't my first, that honour falls to my first boyfriend, and the one who ushered me into the popular crowd. I was in the fall of tenth grade, my braces were gone, my curves developed and it was like the ugly duckling turned swan. Carter and I didn't have any classes together, so it was hard for me to even see him to feed my crush. Instead I was getting noticed by other guys, their comments becoming more flirtatious, and I wasn't sure how to respond.

Brett and I met when we working on community service project together and we just hit it off. He didn't flirt at first, so his easy demeanour set me at ease. After a few weeks he asked me to go out with a group of friends, then just the two of us, and before long we were dating. We went out for my entire sophomore year, and I lost my virginity on his prom night in shockingly stereotypical fashion. Then he went away for school and we broke up. I wasn't heartbroken, I kind of expected it, but he did leave me with my place in the popular crowd cemented.

Brett's approval (even though he was gone) was like a passport to the best parties and I took advantage of it. I dated a few different guys during eleventh grade and hooked up with a few at parties, but nothing serious again until Paul asked me out after a Halloween party.

It's funny, I spent a lot of time in the younger grades on the outside, looking in, but the past few years have taught me that being on the inside isn't too great either. I didn't like that it took so much work to be cool, having to pretend all the time. As much as I used to be a nobody, at least I was true to myself. I liked Carter before and was laughed at for it, but now I will not be deterred, and if that meant hiding in the bathroom fiercely rubbing my clit at the memory of Carter's concealed bulge and leg against my thigh, then so be it. In fact, probably due to the lack of sex, I found I often had to relieve the tension. Maybe I was weird, I don't know, but the best place I could think of for my fingers was buried deep in my pussy.

By the time last period rolled around, I was desperate for relief. Leaving class, I walked—almost sprinted—to the empty bathroom down the hall and locked myself in the stall. My nipples were already at attention as I rubbed and pinched at them causing shivers that shot through me down to my wet slit. My other hand slid into my shorts, into my tight lace thong—soaked with my juices, and I gently, deliciously, ran my finger the length of my moist lips. Stretching the thong caused the black lace to cut into my ass, pressing against my back pucker, making me more aroused.

I stifled a moan as I finally dipped my finger into my wetness, my pussy clasping at my finger, wanting to be fuller. I worked two fingers into my cunt, then began the assault on my clit, the nub electric to the touch. My hips arched towards my hand as I fingered myself, frigging myself, fucking myself, dreaming of feasting on Carter's cock. I imagined my nipples being teased and flicked and pulled by Carter's hands instead of mine.

The pressure in my cunt is building, my fingers moving faster and faster over my hard clit. My breath is hitching and my heart is pounding as I pitch over the edge into an orgasm, my pussy spasming, waves of pleasure shuddering over me. How I wish I was full of his cock, full of his cum. I use the wall for support because I came so hard I am weak at the knees.

I pulled my drenched hand carefully out of my underwear and shorts, trying not to spread my juices further. But I couldn't resist bringing my fingers to my nose breathing in the musky, tangy-sweet smell of my sex. Quickly my tongue darted out and I had a little taste, too. I love my smell and love to have my pussy juice on my hands so that I can sniff reminders of my sex whenever I want. Maybe I'm a freak, I don't know. People always say that guys think about sex more than girls—I'm sure I'm the exception to that rule.

Taking a minute to straighten out my clothes and steady my breathing, I checked in the mirror to make sure my face wasn't too ruddy with evidence of my little tension relieving exercise. I left a button or two undone on my shirt, allowing a little bit better view of the curve of my cleavage before returning to class. There was only a few minutes left to the bell and my bus date with Carter and I was still excited, just not as tense.

Back in class I gathered up my books carefully and slowly to help pass the time.

"Ally, what are you doing after school? Want to go for coffee?" Megan asked.

"No, I've got to get home, I'm working on something important."

If only she knew I was meeting up with someone she referred to as a total loser a year ago. I defended Carter when he was setting up something in the hall and got in our way when we were walking down the hall. She laughed at me and for awhile she teased me about Carter being my secret crush. How right she was.

Before Megan could ask me more, the bell sounds, signalling the end of the day. Not that I was counting down, but there were only 10 more days until prom, 17 more days until exams and 24 more days until graduation. Not that anyone else was counting down either, but the halls always seemed to empty quicker once the weather turned nice. Visiting my locker to get organized, I checked in my square mirror, applied a bit of lip gloss then slammed the door, making my way to the bus area.

Getting on the bus to go to school was easy, the bus stop hadn't changed, but finding the bus after school in the sea of buses was a whole other issue. I was beginning to think I was going to miss the bus simply because I couldn't find the right one. I started to frantically scan the windows until I caught a glimpse of Carter reading a book on one of the buses, oblivious to my search. After climbing aboard, I strode up to Carter and leaned over to touch his leg, getting his attention.