It'd been a hot night, all be it cooler than earlier in the week. I'd walked for over an hour across the city because I didn't feel like descending into the hot, sweltering subterranean tunnels of the metro system. Still, I was warm and glad to finally sit down on the sidewalk where it met the street.
While settling into wait outside the metro station, I looked over and a woman in white sat reading no more than 20 feet away. A loose summery blouse, knee length shorts and sandals filled out the casual ensemble. Shoulder length brunette, with a nice figure.
The bus came within ten minutes of waiting. Once or twice I'd looked over again. I witnessed a youthful face but not overly so. Late twenty's perhaps? Early to mid thirty's? In any case definitely one that caught my attention. There was something alive within her very presence.
I offered to be second into the bus, but the offer wasn't accepted, or perhaps it was merely unexpected and my offer drew out hesitation. So I walked in first and curled up comfortably in the farthest bank of seats. At the back corner of a bus you can have a greater sense of freedom, and you can stretch your legs a bit easier. So I always try to get that spot even if the windows don't open as widely as they do further up in the bus's mid-section. In any case, it seemed I wasn't the only one who liked the back corner of the bus.
We sat otherwise alone at opposite corners of the bus's rear. As the bus took off and began its route I looked over once or twice more. Sandals off. Feet dangled over a set of empty seats that ran perpendicular to our respective corners, maybe fifteen feet along the bus's interior.
Small tattoo of a butterfly on one foot, just before the toes. In a word, sexy. Maybe kind of girly in a really endearing sort of way. Was she still a teenager when the tattoo was applied?
At half past midnight, there was something about that simple uninhibited act, those bare feet dangling there so casually that was nearly intoxicating. Furtive tertiary glances suggested definitely mid to later 30's. Yet so relaxed and confident. The countenance of someone who knows what they want and how they want it. Particularly as reflected within such gorgeous eyes.
Gazing away and into the window I could see the reflection of feet, ankles and a fraction of calf. Stores, houses and bus stops went by. Occasional late night travelers got on and off. The ride wasn't that long but it was enough time that I started to feel like I was sixteen again with my engorged length warm and hard against one thigh as I gazed out the window, the bus relentlessly going along its route. Thank god for cargo's and casual seating postures that let one maintain an appearance of propriety.
It was then just a matter of trying to erase the instinctual fantasy of being deep inside a hot squeezing canal, my sack grinding into warm crotch and thighs, wondering would sucking on a neck's soft flesh elicit moans of pleasure as my length thrust within, down below? What would the taste of such an intimate liaison smell like? Hot, musty with traces of perfume, deodorant and various hair-care products? Would there be moaning, or brief cries of agonized pleasure as our orgasms grabbed hold of our slick, sweaty entwined bodies?
Yet such thoughts just wouldn't get me off the bus in a respectable state so i shook my head, and tried to Zen my mind clean thinking of nothing more than an incredibly cold shower. I've never been one to get into polar bear antics in mid winter on a beach or outdoor pool but I do have a few ideas as to what it must feel like.
By the time I'd fully relaxed and had got myself into a state decent to walk respectably upright, I'd missed my stop. Still I figured I'd get off when the bus came around on the other side. I was in no rush to come home to my roommate who'd SMS'd me earlier that he'd picked up a "friend". Mind you I wasn't too bothered by it, as he was the sort of guy who hadn't seen too much action since he broke up with his girl friend six months ago.
