Bus Ride 21

Bus Ride

I hadn't taken the bus to work in a long while, but my car was in the shop, so ...

One of the things I miss about taking the bus is, I like to read. Lots of people get motion sick when reading in a car, or on the bus. I don't.

So, I was sitting in a window seat reading, when a pretty young woman - maybe early to mid twenties and half my age - sat next to me as the bus pulled away from the bus stop.

"Hi," she said.

"Hello," I replied, to be polite, but annoyed that she was interrupting my story.

"Whatcha reading?"

"Short stories," I replied, really wanting to get back to them.

"Oh, what sort?"

"Erotic." I said, hoping my abruptness would silence her, so I could read.

"Oh my," she said. "What's it about?"

I sighed.

"It's about two women who meet, fall in love, and pleasure each other by licking each other between their legs," I said. There, that should do it, I thought, fully expecting she'd be put off and leave me alone.

"Oh my, indeed. That sounds exciting."

"It is," I said.

"Have you ... ahh ... ever done that with a girl?" She asked, sounding a bit nervous.

"Well, to be honest, no. But, I've always harboured a secret fantasy about making love with another woman, if you must know," I rather bluntly informed her.

"Oh my," She whispered. "Me, too."

At that, I turned slightly, and took her in, having not paid too much attention to her when she first sat down next to me. She was very pretty. Dirty blond hair, albeit, somewhat unkempt. A nice figure, but then, twenty-somethings often have good figures - with no working out and sweating at the gym for them, unlike me. She wore the ubiquitous tank top almost obligatory in southern Texas during the warmer months. Hers was low cut; a v-neck showing lots of cleavage, of which she had plenty. And she wore a short mini skirt, pretty much the same as mine, only a different color.

"I'm Joan," I said, extending my hand.

"Margaret," she said, taking it and giving me a delicate little shake. Her fingers were slim, her nails a pale pink.

"Pleased to meet you Margaret. So ... have you?" I asked.

"What?"

"Made love with a girl?"

"Oh, that ..." she kind of stammered. "No, truth be told, but... I think I'm a lesbian."

"Oh my," I said, stealing her line. Her face was turning bright red. "How does one determine if she's a lesbian, or not?"

"I'm not sure ... ahh ... maybe like this," she said as she leaned toward me and kissed me on the lips. It was a soft gentle kiss, but it sent my heart racing.

"Oh my," I repeated.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me, please forgive ..."

Before she could finish her sentence, I placed my hand on her cheek and pulled her closer and kissed her back. This time, with a lot more passion. Well, at least as much passion as two virtual strangers can share on a municipal bus.

"Oh my god," she said, breathlessly. "I think I'm sure now."

"What?"

"About being a lesbian," she declared. "Do you ride this bus often? I'd like to see you again."

"No ... ahh ... but I will from now on ... if you do."

"Yes, to classes. Every day except Friday. In fact, this is my stop. I've got to go ... I really hope I can see you again," she said as she got up and slung her back pack over her shoulder.

"Me too," I called out to her receding figure as she moved down the aisle toward the exit.

My heart was still racing and I realized my panties were soaked. Oh my god, I thought. What would my husband think, or my kids? But, at that moment, I resolved to do my bit to help save the environment, or curb global warming, or whatever, and take the bus more often. At least, Monday through Thursday.

The next morning, I was on the same bus; my book sitting on the seat next to me to hopefully save a spot for Margaret. I had to tell a couple of miffed people that I had a friend joining me at the next stop, though I didn't really know at which stop she got on. I hadn't been paying attention the day before.

Margaret got on about five minutes later.

My face must have been beaming as I watched her coming down the aisle lugging her back pack.

"Oh Joan, there you are," she said as she plopped down next to me. She looked around, then leaned over and kissed me tenderly. My heart went into high gear once again. I moaned. I didn't want it to end, but given where we were, it had to be a fairly short kiss.

"Good morning, Margaret."

"Good morning Joan," she responded. "God, I was so hoping I'd see you again. I kept thinking about you all day, yesterday."

"Yeah, me too. Couldn't get you out of my head. Had trouble falling asleep, that is ... ahh ... until I got myself off in bed thinking about ... well ..."

"Oh my," she said, her face turned bright red, like the day before.

"I did the same thing last night, too. I'm so embarrassed ..." she confessed.

"I think we have a problem," I told her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you ..."

"I do, I want to be with you, but I'm married. I have two daughters." I said. "It would never work, you and me," I said, sadly.

"I don't care. I still want you. I don't know how this can be, but, I think I love you. I know it sounds crazy, but ..."

"I know, I feel the same," I confessed. "It's completely insane. We need to have some time together."

"I don't have classes on Friday."

"I can call in sick. Where shall we meet?"

We agreed on a coffee shop near her apartment. I was there fifteen minutes early, completely flustered with so many mixed feelings; excitement, fear (what if I got caught ... I'd never cheated on my husband before). And, lust ... the thought of being with Margaret turned me on so much that I even put extra clean panties in my purse. The ones I had put on before leaving home were already soaked.

I sipped my latte and waited. She arrived right on time.

We sat and talked in a booth near the back of the shop. We sat next to each other and held hands like school girls. Well, technically, she was one, even though it was college. We snuck kisses as frequently as we could without making a scene.

We got to know one another. She told me about her family, though sadly, both of her parents had passed away when she'd been in her teens and she'd lived a few years with an aunt that she didn't get along with. She had no siblings, so she was pretty much alone in the world.

I told her about my hubby and my kids. And about my parents, both of whom were still alive, just not still married.

"I think it's really good for the kids to have grandparents around. Just not at the same time," I chuckled. "That presents some challenging scheduling problems on holidays and birthdays. It would be so much easier if they didn't hate each other, now."

We decided to meet again, but after work for me - calling in sick every Friday wouldn't fly. Though we still saw each other briefly most mornings on the bus.

We started getting together Friday evenings. I told my hubby I was going out for drinks with some girlfriends at work. We'd have a light dinner and a glass of wine. After a couple weeks, I startled her with an admission.

"I want to make love to you," I finally told her.

"Oh my god, yes!" she exclaimed. "My apartment is a couple blocks from here."

We went to her place.

"Oh, your apartment is lovely," I told her as we entered.

"No, it's not ... it's a mess, but I don't care," she said, taking my hand and dragging me back to her bedroom.

We stood at the foot of the bed and just took each other in for a moment, before wrapping our arms around each other and kissing. Tenderly at first, but passion quickly built.

Soon, we were pulling each other's tops up over our heads, unhooking bra straps, kneeling and tugging skirts down to the carpet. Drenched panties slid to the floor and we were both naked.

"I've dreamed about this so long," I told her, as we knelt together on the carpet. Then I placed my lips on hers. I caressed her face as we kissed. She moaned.

My fingers wandered over her back and down to her firm ass cheeks. I squeezed them and she squealed.

Her hands cupped my breasts. Her mouth soon found a hard nipple and began sucking on it as her tongue flicked over it sending waves of heat to my tingling pussy. I moaned, too, even louder. My cunt was on fire.

I stood and pulled her onto the bed, then I knelt between her thighs and leaned in, taking in the heady aroma of her gorgeous vagina. My hands rested on the tops of her thighs, my fingers extending upward. I gently pulled her labia apart, exposing her cleft to my tongue.

My heart raced, my breath coming in gasps, electricity shot through me to my clit making me burn with lust for Margaret's sweet pussy.

My tongue started low, just above the pucker of her anus, and flicked and fluttered upward, tasting her sweet juices along the way. I heard her moaning, felt her body twisting and writhing with pleasure. I felt light headed from my own excitement and I quivered from the exhilaration of having sex with a woman for the first time.

My fingers exploded her slippery wet groove, then two fingers plunged inward. She yelled from the sudden invasion of her vagina.

"Oh god, Joan, fuck me baby," she pleaded.

My mouth engulfed her clitoris and my tongue flicked wildly over her engorged nub. I felt her hands on my head pulling me in as she ground her wet cunt on my eager mouth; my face glistening from her juices.

I had only ever imagined having sex with a woman, and never thought it could be so amazing! It rapidly got more so as I felt Margaret's body tense up. It was the beginning of an intense orgasm for her. Her body squeezed my fingers inside her pussy, pulsing and clenching on them over and over, as she thrashed about and squealed with immense pleasure.

"Oh my god Joan, that was so incredible!"

"For me too, god you taste so good ... sweet, mmmmm heavenly."

"But now, it's your turn to cum. And I have a surprise for you," she told me, as she reached into the drawer of her bedside table.

What she extracted was an odd looking dildo. One end was a realistic looking penis, maybe eight or ten inches long, the other end was at an angle, shorter and bulbous.

"It's a strapless dildo called a Feeldoe, it vibrates too. I ordered it right after the first time we met at the coffee shop, hoping I'd get to use it with you," she said and handed it to me to examine.

"Interesting, how does it work?"

"First, you lie back and spread your legs for me. Then, I insert the fat end in my pussy, like this," she said, as she inserted the bulbous end of the device in her own vagina.

Then, she reached around behind herself and twisted a little nob and the dildo started buzzing.

"Oh my god, that feels so nice," she said breathlessly, as she leaned in towards my pussy.

I squealed when the buzzing tip brushed my clit as it slid down my groove, splitting my labia, until it reached and pressed against the entrance to my own vagina. My hips involuntarily tilted and pushed back. I felt the head penetrate me slowly. Margaret placed her hands on my hips and, without warning, thrust her hips forcefully into me. I screamed with joy.

"Oh my fucking god, Margaret, yes! Oh fuck me Margaret!" I yelled, as she began slamming her hips into me over and over.

I thrashed under her, I held onto her shoulders as my hips thrust upwards in sync with her. The ten inch faux cock bottomed out against my cervix each time her hips slammed downward. I was in heaven. She fucked me mercilessly and I knew it wouldn't take long for me to cum.

"That's it Joan ... ahhh fuck, its so good ... uhhh... I want you to cum for me baby, right when I do ... oh god I'm so close Joan ..."

"Me too ... fuck!" I managed to say just as I was going over the edge to that mystical place we girls go when we cum.

Did I mention I'm a screamer? I screamed just then. A high pitched, almost continuous, scream, as I went delirious cumming on Margaret's fake cock. My whole body went rigid and shook violently. I was out of control. My hips bucked involuntarily causing more glorious sensations inside my body. I vaguely recall hearing Margaret's squeals of delight as she too shuddered from her own orgasm.

Eventually, she collapsed on top of me breathing heavily. But, l kept cumming ... the vibrating cock was still deep inside me and giving me wave after delicious wave of bliss. I babbled incoherently. My head was thrown back. Margaret told me later my eyes were rolled back and she was starting to worry that she'd somehow hurt me, so she withdrew the dildo from my pussy.

When I gradually came round, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"My god, I've never seen anyone cum so hard before," she told me. "I was ready to dial 911."

I started laughing. So hard that I had tears in my eyes.

"What?"

"Oh my god, I just had this vision of you calling 911 - 'what's your emergency ... I think I just killed my girlfriend by fucking her to death with a dildo'," I said.

Then Margaret started laughing hysterically, which set me off again. We laughed together for the longest time.

"God, my tummy hurts," she said, eventually.

"Mine, too," I replied. Then we kissed, long and tenderly.

As we broke off the kiss, I told her it was her turn to get fucked. She started to protest, but I pushed her onto her back and grabbed the Feeldoe. I pushed the fat end up and inside my pussy, then turned the knob. It started vibrating ... I turned it up to high.

"Oh fuck ... that vibe does feel good!" I said, as I walked on my knees over between Margaret's legs.

"I'm going to fuck your brains out baby!"

I lifted her legs up and rested her heels on my shoulders. I pushed the head of the dildo into Margaret's entrance which was still dripping her juices. It slid in ever so slowly. I watched in fascination as it entered her millimeter by millimeter.

"Fuck Joan ... you're teasing me! Fuck me honey! Please!" She yelled.

Thinking how she'd slammed into me without warning, I decided to have my revenge ... I stopped. Margaret started trying to push back on me with her hips. So, I pulled back out a little.

"Joan! You're horrible ... please fuck me Joan, god I need it so, bad..." so, I gave it to her.

When the full ten inches suddenly slammed into her cunt, she screamed. Just as I had earlier. She, no doubt, had attended the Joan School of Orgasmic Screaming and graduated with top honors.

I started fucking Margaret furiously. I grabbed her hips to give me more leverage and to penetrate her as deep as possible. Margaret grunted mightily as each thrust rammed into her, hitting her cervix.

Never having fucked a woman before, I found myself soon sweating profusely and huffing and puffing; fucking a girl is hard work. I stopped thrusting and rested a bit. I marveled at the sight of the realistic looking cock buried in Margaret's eager cunt. She wriggled her butt a bit. So, this is what it looks like to a guy when they fuck me, I thought.

"Oh god Joan, don't stop ... fuck me baby ... make me cum!" Margaret begged.

I resumed thrusting into Margaret's sloppy wet cunt. Leaning forward, I latched onto her luscious breasts with my hands and pinched her nipples with my fingertips while I fucked her.

I'd started fucking her more slowly, but tried to thrust deeper on each stroke, hoping to not tire so quickly. Margaret groaned with pleasure every time the plastic cock buried itself in her. She soon got used to the tempo and began lifting her hips upward in sync with me.

I used one hand to rub her clit as I fucked her. She soon was breathing faster and her body shuddered as she was overcome by a massive orgasm. She screamed again.

As she thrashed about, I kept fucking her faster and stroking her sensitive clit; her orgasm wouldn't quit. Or, perhaps, as sometimes happens with me, she was having one orgasm after the other, like ocean waves crashing on the shore of her bliss.

Eventually, she couldn't take anymore, and pulled the faux phallus from her vagina.

She was so wiped out, she couldn't speak for quite a while.

I curled up beside her, draped my leg over her and cuddled up to her. We both feel asleep.

I awoke with a start, looked at the clock, and panicked ... it was three in the morning.

"Shit!" I exclaimed. Which woke Margaret up.

"What?"

"Look at the time. I'm screwed! I told my hubby I was going out for drinks with girlfriends from work. What am I going to do? The bars closed long ago."

"Ok, tell him you all went to one of your friend's apartments ... ahh ... to play a game ... no, wait, a better idea, one of them is getting married and wanted to show you all her wedding dress ... ahh ... that none of you would get to see because she's getting married on a beach in Thailand. That should work, and then, you fell asleep on her sofa and no one had the heart to wake you. What do you think?" Margaret suggested.

"God you're good. Okay, I'll try it, by the way, do you have any booze?" I asked.

"Why?"

"I'm supposed to have been out drinking. I need the smell of booze on my breath. And I need to get an Uber ride home." I arranged a ride on my phone as soon as I said it.

"Twenty minutes." I told Margaret.

She found a bottle of scotch and handed it to me.

"Oh fuck, I hate scotch," but I took a couple big swigs and almost choked.

"I'd rather drink dirty dish water ... oh well."

We spent our final few minutes waiting for my ride by making out on Margaret's couch.

"Ouuu ..." Margaret said, wrinkling her nose. "We smell of sex, we should have showered."

"Shit! No time, my ride is three minutes out ... give me the booze again," I told Margaret.

I proceeded to sprinkle liberal amounts of scotch on my blouse and skirt.

"What the fuck ..."

"I'll say some guy in the bar got bumped and spilled his drink all over me. Should cover up the smell of sex and give me an excuse to take a shower at four o'clock in the morning when I get home," I said.

I had to leave, my Uber was outside. We kissed again and I ran out the door.

My story seemed to satisfy my hubby. But, he said he hoped it wasn't going to become a regular thing. When I told him we were going to do it every Friday night, he just frowned.

Monday morning on the bus, I told Margaret what had happened when I got home. She was relieved.

"I was worried all weekend...I wish you could have texted me," she said, glumly.

"Too risky ... my kids borrow my phone sometimes ... I don't want them snooping," I said.

We continued meeting most Fridays. We were in love, but it was also so frustrating. We talked about it. We cried about it. I told her that she needed to find someone she could fall in love with and marry. But she always would say, "but I love you, Joan."

Until one night, after we'd made beautiful love, and she started crying.

"What's wrong sweetheart? " I asked.

"Nothing," she replied.

"Uhh ... why don't I believe you ... could it be your wet cheeks? Come on, out with it," I told her.

"I met someone ... at the gym ..." more tears flowed.

"Someone you have feelings for?" I asked.

She nodded her head 'yes'.

"Oh, Margaret, that's wonderful ... I'm so happy for you!" I said, with mixed emotions.

I was happy for Margaret, knowing we could never be together long term - I'd never do that to my family. But, I was also sad, I really did love her. My only hope was that we could remain friends.

"So, tell me about this person, how did you meet?"

"Her name is Candy and she was showing me how to use one of the new machines at the gym," Margaret explained, still snuffling a bit.

Hearing the girls name, I was tempted to make a stripper joke, but thankfully, I thought better of it.

"Oh Margaret, that's fantastic. Did you get her phone number? Ask her out? I know you're not shy ... when I think about how you kissed me that day we met on the bus." This prompted more tears.