The Lust Bus

Copyright 2016 by Charles P. Lingham

Lamar and Nancy are regulars on the city bus when an unfamiliar Asian female passenger boards, surrounded by an exotic scent that's going right to their crotches and making them want to do things that you shouldn't really do in public.

DAY 25 OF DONNA HENDERSON'S CURSE

THE LUST BUS

Long before Donna Henderson boarded the city transit bus, route 834, on Tuesday, the 25th day of her curse, the public vehicle had been following its regularly scheduled route, and welcoming and discharging its usual passengers. Nothing was out of the ordinary that evening. There were no signs or indications that portended that this would be the bus that people in this city would be talking about for months, if not years to come.

There had only ever been about a half dozen passengers on the bus at that time of night, at that point of the route, but, for the next six months, that same bus (well, not the exact same bus—it, of course had been pulled out of service indefinitely for close examination) would be crammed full of voyeurs hoping to catch some of the same magic that had so infamously spread through the passengers that night like wildfire, and was still, if the rumours were to be believed, affecting them long after the events of this story.

--

For Lamar Felton, the bus ride home was one of the few opportunities when he got to spend time alone with Katrina Lee. They both worked at the Taco Bell in the mall and, as luck would have it, they both took the same bus route home from work pretty much every night, usually at the same time. Over the last week, they'd even started sitting beside each other, and had even gone so far as to actually exchange a few words in conversation with each other, that was, when neither one of the introverted teenagers had their heads bowed while staring at their respective phones.

At eighteen, Lamar was a late-bloomer, and not all that experienced with members of the opposite sex or, for that matter, with sex in the first place. His parents were very strict, and had superhumanly managed to restrict his access to porn throughout his teen years in an era when it was easily and readily available online. As a result, his only source of information about sex in that time had come from listening to the storied experiences of his older friend Dewayne, who was—if he was to be believed—an expert in all things sexual. Lamar wasn't in the position to contradict his friend, especially given his scant experience with girls. For his part, the high school senior preferred instead to spend his evenings after work on his computer playing online strategy games when he wasn't practicing his clarinet.

And then there was Katrina.

Lamar had long had eyes for Katrina Lee but, until just a few weeks back, he'd thought the young woman (who was just a few weeks older than him) didn't even know he existed. They went to the same Catholic school, and even had a few classes in common, a fact that created an actual opening that the shy young man hoped to exploit tonight in order to start a real conversation.

"You done the essay in World Lit yet?" Lamar asked quickly, barely even looking up from his phone as he spoke.

"Yes," answered Katrina sitting in the bus seat right beside him but on the other side of a shiny metal pole. "Two days ago."

The silence that followed her response hung in the air like frozen molasses. It was broken only by the sound of their fingers tapping at touchscreens.

Well shit, thought Lamar as he typed gibberish into his phone to make it look like he was playing it cool. Now what? Dammit. I should have planned a better question. I should have planned a second question.

Lamar looked quickly over at Katrina as he pondered what to say next. He was noticing that, when she had changed out of her work clothes after her shift, she had put her school uniform back on: a white shirt covered with a black blazer, with a short plaid skirt. Lamar was wondering why Katrina had decided to go with her school clothes again, considering he himself had changed into his street clothes the first chance he's gotten, a sports jersey from his favourite basketball team along with loose fitting shorts.

All thoughts of a follow-up question was lost to the young man though once he spotted Katrina's exposed legs sticking out from the typically immodest Catholic school girl skirt. He was just trying to figure out how he could look at those gorgeous legs without seeming too obvious about it, when he noticed an attractive Asian woman get on the bus, and the opening he had been wishing for to get to know Katrina better was delivered to him, almost magically.

--

Nancy Tanner noticed the Asian woman as well, and perhaps paid a little more attention to her than did Lamar because Nancy was pretty sure that she recognized the stranger. It wasn't so much the woman's face that was coming back to her, but it was, of all things, her scent.

As the bus started to move again, Nancy gripped the pole to keep a balance that had taken a hit because of the familiar smell now lightly permeating the almost empty city bus. She dearly wanted to sit down. There were, after all, plenty of seats available, and she was one of only two people standing, but there were reasons she didn't want to sit, that she couldn't sit on the bus. Not after last time...

It had to do with something that the young red-headed woman was wearing. Not the dark pleated skirt and the loose thick-knit sweater that she'd had the good sense to put on over her work shirt (she'd learned that you had to do that when you worked where she did), but the hidden surprise that she was wearing for her someone special.

If you could call what she was doing with it 'wearing' it.

Nancy took this bus home every night. Had been doing it for about two years now and, in that time, had become pretty familiar with the regulars.

There was the same driver as usual (Delila was it?), and the slightly older woman who seemed to be carrying a paper bag full of tomatoes, cucumbers, and bread sticks home every night, and always held them tightly between her knees even though there were usually empty seats on either side of her.

There was the cute teenage couple who usually got on with her at the mall, and had used to sit well apart from each other, but had been drifting closer and closer over the last few weeks. Truth be told, Nancy had been enjoying the show, as she could see how the shy the young black man was pining for the girl. For some time now, Nancy had been wondering if she should tell him that the girl was obviously just as into him as he was into her, and that he should just go ahead and make a move already. He could have a chance tonight though, she noticed, because they seemed to be sitting pretty close to each other.

Then there was the business executive in the suit, the only other person standing on the bus tonight on the next pole over towards the back of the bus, but then, he never sat down anyhow. It probably wasn't for the same reason that Nancy was standing. Probably, but it would be really interesting if it was. The truth was likely a lot more boring, she realized. No doubt something about not wanting to sit on public seats in a suit so nice. She'd often wondered why he didn't own a car if he could afford such expensive suits, but then thought that this was perhaps where all his money was going.

Then there was the pervert sitting right behind Delila who was always already on the bus when she got on with a wide laptop spread across his knees that he was operating with one hand. The man always wore a thick, long jacket, even in warm weather, so it was never really clear where his other hand was and what it was doing. Nancy was pretty sure the man was playing with his crotch hidden behind the laptop, after all, she recognized him from the store, and was pretty sure that she sold him whatever it was he was watching.

Thankfully, the man had never been one of the perverts standing outside the sex shop as she left for the evening though. Those were a different kind of pervert. The kind that thought that, because she worked in a store that sold adult novelties, that she'd somehow be part of the merchandise. That was the reason that she made sure to cover up her blue company shirt that had the name of the sex shop so obviously tattooed on it. Because of the paper covering the windows of the store, people couldn't see her inside working there, so she didn't want to walk out wearing the store logo and make it obvious. It was one thing to be thought of as a female customer of a sex shop, which was bad enough, but it was a helluva lot worse to be known as its female employee.

Young men her age (mid-twenties) always seemed to assume that, because she worked in a sex shop, she was more into sex than were other women. Looser maybe. Hornier. What they didn't realize was that it wasn't the case for Nancy. She wouldn't have slept with any of those men anyhow. It wasn't that she wasn't any more sexually curious or adventurous than other women (she was actually, especially considering what she was now 'wearing'), it was because she wasn't even into men in the first place.

Nancy was in a committed relationship with Angela, an older woman (and with soooo much more experience), and they'd been together for about three years now. The idea that she was more open minded because of where she worked and that this would result in random sexual encounters with strange men was an absurd one.

Or, at least it had been, until last Saturday night. Coincidentally, the only other time that she had smelt the peculiar, yet spicy odor that seemed to be emanating from the young, rather flustered looking Asian woman sitting across from her; the only passenger that she hadn't actually seen on the bus before, yet still somehow recognized.

--

There was a strange exotic scent in the air, noticed Lamar. He was sniffing at it, trying to identify it and, from the snuffling sound beside him where Katrina was sitting, he wasn't the only one. The scent wasn't so much a perfume, it was too musky for that, and it was kinda spicy too. He took another deep breath through his nose and felt the hairs on his arms bristle as a slight tingle ran down his spine to settle in the small of his back.

The one thing about the smell was how hard it was to pin down. Like it wasn't even there somehow. It was like those stars he used to stare at on camping trips, well away from the lights of the city. The ones that weren't there when you looked directly at them, and only appeared when you looked to the side of where you thought they should be. That was what it was like to pin down the scent that seemed to accompany the young Asian woman once she got onto the bus.

At first, Lamar had been concerned for the woman, because she was looking a little flushed and harried, even a little fidgety. She had sat down almost as soon as she got on, on the bench seat across from him and Katrina, just behind the back door. Then, as she looked around furtively at the passengers already on the bus, she had crossed her legs and had started bouncing one leg up and down on top of the other, quickly. Almost like she was nervous about something.

Watching the young Asian woman and her shaking leg, Lamar smiled knowingly. Dewayne, had once told him that this was how women masturbated in public; that the up and down motion of the leg rubbed against the woman's clip, and made her feel real good.

"Women are lucky," Dewayne had said. "They can play wit' themselves in public. You ever see a woman doing that Lamarr, and she's honest to goodness gettin' off right in front of everybody."

Lamar had no cause to doubt his friend at the time, four or five years ago. After all, Dewayne had claimed to have gone farther with a woman than anybody else in his group of friends, most of which were made up of members of the high school band and debate clubs.

What's more, Dewayne seemed a lot more liberated than the jocks in school. He wasn't always telling Lamar how a man should be taken care of, but actually told him and his friends to remember to take care of the woman too.

"It's all about the clip," Dewayne had said confidently. "Remember that: the clip. It's the button responsible for a woman's pleasure. If you wanna do a good job pleasing a woman, and have her ask you back fo' more, you gotta know where the clip is, and what to do to it."

That was, of course, almost three years ago, when they'd both been fourteen. Since then, they'd all found out that Dewayne had had the terminology wrong, even though his sentiment was in the right place. Lamar had never forgotten the advice. It had certainly helped him out with his first real girlfriend, Dana.

When he and Dana finally got intimate, neither one of them had really known what was going on, although she'd had at least had one boyfriend before him. They'd been told in health class exactly what to do to avoid pregnancy, but all matters pertaining to actually pleasuring each other's genitals were predictably absent.

That's why, the very first time Lamar had ever fingered a girl, he couldn't actually find the vaginal opening—at least at first.

From the books he'd read, and the rare picture he'd seen up to then, he'd naturally assumed that the hole was directly on the front of the woman's body, but it wasn't. And, so it was that, on that first time with Dana, under the sheets of her bed with her parents out of town, and the older sister (who was supposed to be watching Dana) out partying, Lamar had poked away at the very front of Dana's pubis, unable to figure out how to get his finger into it.

He'd been able to spread her vaginal lips, and was surprised by how wet everything had been, but couldn't for the life of him figure out just where he was supposed to push in.

First, he explored down along the slit towards the back, where he discovered a very wet orifice that, because of its location down below, he'd assumed to be her butthole. He was of course shocked when Dana had gasped in pleasure as he mistakenly, and very temporarily, probed it. He had wondered at the time if perhaps Dana was some kind of sexual deviant, the kind that Dewayne had told him about. The kind that enjoyed a little pain with their sexual pleasure.

Quickly moving well north of this butt, Lamar kept pushing to try and find his way in to the opening that everyone was always telling him about. The one that was supposed to be as wet and as inviting as, well, Dana's asshole. Finally, he found a slight bump, and was rewarded with another gasp of pleasure from Dana, along with actual encouragement.

"Oh, you do know what you're doing, don't you?' she purred in his ear.

He did?

"You're going right for my love button," she was gasping now. "My last boyfriend could never even find it."

Is she talking about her clip? Lamar wondered. Have I actually found her clip? Dewayne would be proud. Shame he didn't tell me how to actually get into her pussy though.

That had been a long time ago. Or at least it seemed that way, being all of a year and a half. Dana had eventually shown him how to finger her that night, and how to get in to her honey pot (he never had told her what he had thought the opening was the first time he'd touched it). With her urging, he had slid first one, then two fingers inside, and then experimented with moving them against each other in a scissor fashion, and was rewarded with another gasp of pleasure. Then, he was fucking her with his two fingers, and she was whispering in his ear that she wanted him inside her. Not his fingers anymore, but his love stick (just what was it with all of her euphemisms anyhow?)

Fumbling in the dark, they'd rolled on the condom the way they'd been shown in health class. In the process, he found that his cock was a lot warmer than the cucumber that they'd learned on. Then, he'd slid his cock inside her cunt, and three strokes later, he was done, even though he'd tried desperately to keep moving inside her with a dick that was beyond sensitive, even as it slowly deflated. After all, Dewayne had taught him to put the woman's pleasure first, and he didn't want to disappoint.

Luckily, he'd had a few more opportunities with Dana to practice (two more that very night actually) before she had moved across the country two months later, taking his newly discovered sex life with her.

Pulling his mind back to the bus, Lamar shook his head. All his thinking about his former sexual experience was getting him warmed up. He could feel his dick stiffening in his shorts, and hoped that it wasn't obvious for anybody on the bus to notice. He took a quick look around to see if anybody was looking his way. All the faces on the bus tonight, with the exception of the exotic looking Asian woman, were familiar to him, and every single one of them looked odd. Like they were also lost, like he had just been, in a pleasant reminiscence about their first sexual experience. Especially that cute red-headed girl standing at the pole off to his right, the one that he knew worked in the sex shop at the mall, who seemed to be bouncing around awkwardly from one foot to the other. What was that expression his older sister used to use: Like she had something lodged in her butt?

Lamar shook his head again and sniffed at the air, even tasting it with his tongue this time. He seemed to recall thinking that the air had a funny smell to it earlier, but couldn't remember all of the details now. Some things were getting fuzzy.

Man, he was getting horny. It'd had been far too long since he'd had sex of any kind, at least the kind that included another person, and now the object of his long-festering desire was sitting right beside him, and he didn't know how to move things along.

He wasn't a virgin dammit! He'd gone all the way with a woman before, why was he having such a hard time figuring out how to get the motor going with Katrina.

Speaking of Katrina, something was different. It was something he hadn't really noticed before so lost had he been in his lustful daze. The young Korean woman was leaning against him now, and... Lamar was pretty sure that she was actually moaning.

Moaning?

--

The unfamiliar Asian woman appeared to be texting now, but looked really frustrated about it, like her fingers weren't hitting the right buttons. Nancy didn't think that was too surprising really, considering how much the woman's tiny hands were shaking, and how violently she seemed to be bouncing one leg on top of the other. It was a position and an action that Nancy just couldn't have handled right now, especially with what she was 'wearing'.

Eventually, the Asian woman put her phone back in her purse in exasperation, and looked around the bus again. Her eyes met with Nancy's briefly, but not long enough for to them to register that they might know each other, even though they hadn't actually met on the night of the incident.

She sniffed at the air again, and shivered as she thought about it. It had been a pleasurable experience, sure, but it had almost cost her her job. The morning after the incident, she'd gotten an angry phone call from her supervisor, one that had been difficult to understand because she'd only had a few hours' sleep.

Cassim was livid, and kept yelling something about the fact that the whole shop smelled like pussy, and sex shops were not supposed to smell like pussy.

She had found it ironic, although he didn't share her amusement when she'd suggested that it might help with sales. That was the first indication that Cassim was deadly serious.

As she hung up the phone and started to get ready to go to the store to meet with her angry manager, she wondered just what had come over her the night before. She'd never experienced anything like it; she'd almost had sex with a stranger. Had willingly masturbated in front of him with a dildo (one that he had later bought), and sprayed the wall of the change room with a squirting orgasm like no other. She'd squirted a few times during sex under Angela's experienced fingers, but not like that. Not ever like that.