NOTES: This is a Christmas-themed CFNM story with very mild humiliation and some male/female sexual activity, but no intercourse. Though this story is not intended to offend, some of its cultural depictions may be troubling to sensitive readers. All of the characters featured and mentioned in the story are over the age of eighteen. This is a work of complete fiction. Happy Holidays!
-----------------------------------------------
It was a cloudy, disappointingly grey summer's morning in Sydney, Australia. I was sitting on a public bus looking at a pic of a big breasted, dark haired, bikini-clad woman posing seductively on a crowded beach.
I'd Google image-searched the words "Busty Israeli Girls" on my phone, and the results were very hot indeed.
It was a few weeks out from Christmas, and I was on my way to a large shopping centre to pick up some gifts.
The shops were so busy at this time of year that I decided to leave my car at home because it was so difficult to find a parking space. The urgency and fevered desperation of Christmas drivers also put me on edge.
I always got bored on the rare occasions when I travelled by bus, and being a sex-obsessed 25-year-old Aussie male, I usually passed the time by sneakily looking at images of naked women on my phone.
I'd seen two very sexy, young, presumably Israeli girls -- one of them with enormous, heavily swinging breasts gloriously on display in a tight t-shirt -- on my walk up to the bus stop, which had prompted my in-transit Google search.
I swiped excitedly through the other images that came up on my phone, and it was nothing short of a cavalcade of beautiful, big breasted, sexily alluring Jewishness.
I loved women of all religions, nationalities, ages, shapes, colours, sizes, dispositions, socio-economic backgrounds and political persuasions, but right now, Israeli girls were really getting my dick twitching.
The bus was fairly quiet, with only a few other people on board, all of whom were sitting up the front.
I was up the back, which meant that I could check out the sexy images on my phone without fear of being caught.
I heard the gears of the bus shift and grind, and the big vehicle quickly pulled over to a bus stop.
I looked up and saw a Muslim woman getting on board. She was dressed from head to toe in black robes, which covered her body completely.
Covering her head was a hijab, while a niqab veil wholly covered the woman's face and left only her eyes visible, which peered out from the dark fabric. Her other features were totally obscured.
The Muslim woman carried a small shopping bag, and efficiently tapped on with her Opal card before moving onto the bus.
She looked around, and her eyes settled on me for a moment. She headed up the aisle of the bus, easily navigating her way as it pulled away from the curb.
The woman looked at me, and her deep brown eyes literally sparkled from out of her veil.
Her eyes carried a look of true mischief, and what little I could see of her skin was rich and caramel in colour.
The near-all-covering robes, hijab and niqab gave me no idea of the woman's body shape or age, though she was fairly short and rounded in stature.
A few faint wrinkles around her eyes suggested that she was likely in her mid-thirties.
Despite the fact that there were empty seats all around us, the woman gave me what looked like a slight smile, and then sat down right next to me. I quickly slipped my phone into my pocket.
The woman then slid her body further toward me on the seat, and I instantly felt her warmth pressing against my side.
She was much, much closer to me than she needed to be, and I thoroughly enjoyed the sensation.
The Muslim woman's option to sit next to me on a near-empty bus totally breached unofficial public transport etiquette in Sydney.
You only sit next to another passenger on the bus if you absolutely have to, so I was quietly surprised by this very curious move. I was also intrigued.
Being a constantly horny, sexed up exhibitionist who loves slyly getting his gear off for groups of women in public, I'm always on the lookout for potential naughty fun.
I'm in great shape, and very, very well hung, so interesting opportunities often present themselves.
Most of my sexy fun happens around Sydney's secluded bays and beaches, and I never imagined that a Christmas bus trip could turn into something raunchy.
I cheekily hoped that this woman might invite me back to her place for some cross-cultural between-the-sheets action. Sitting right next to me certainly suggested that she was up to something.
I'd never had sex with a devout Muslim woman before, and the thought of peeling off the layers of my fellow passenger's elaborate robes started to get me hot.
Would she be curvy? Would she have big breasts? Whether it was true or not, I'd heard that devout Muslim women didn't wax or shave, so I imagined a big, black, furry bush between the woman's coffee-coloured thighs.
I shivered pleasurably at the thought. This Muslim woman was really getting my juices flowing.
I'd been jerked off by an eighteen-year-old Lebanese schoolgirl a few weeks prior to my bus trip, and I'd had a sensational one-afternoon-stand with a beautiful Iranian woman that I'd met in a supermarket, but outside of that, my sexual dalliances with ladies of the Middle East had been disappointingly limited.
I hoped that this mysteriously enshrouded woman might help with my inexperience when it came to the sensual delights of the Arabic world.
I also giggled internally at the irony of the fact that only a few moments before her arrival, I'd been gazing longingly at images that represented her polar opposite: busty, near-naked Israeli girls in bikinis.
As the bus moved around bends and forged onward through Sydney's suburban streets, the robed woman leaned heavily into me, pushing her body against mine suggestively.
At one point, I even felt what I was certain was the soft sponginess of her breasts pressing into my rib cage.
The woman looked across at me and her deep brown eyes radiated beautifully from her niqab, literally alive with knowing naughtiness and mischief.
I had no real idea due to her hijab and face veil, but I fancifully sensed that this woman was likely gorgeous.
Then, out of nowhere, I felt her left hand suddenly resting on my leg, her olive-skinned fingers spread alluringly across my right thigh.
A surge of electricity pulsed through my body at her surprising, illicit touch. I shivered gently with delight.
I couldn't believe that she'd made such a brazen move. I looked across subtly at the woman, and I again saw her eyes sparkle naughtily at me.
She then rubbed my thigh over my fitted denim shorts, which reached down nearly to my knees. I shivered again with pleasure.
I then watched in shock as her hand wandered up from my thigh and then languidly made its way up to my waist. I didn't know what to do.
Her touch drove me wild, but I remained slightly uncomfortable about her being so forward with me.
As my mind raced with a heady mix of confusion and sexual arousal, the woman slipped her hand up under my t-shirt.
She didn't look at me, but instead focused her gaze on the front of the bus to avoid any suspicion from the driver or the other passengers.
I felt the woman's fingers rub my stomach, and then her short, trimmed nails traced over my rock-hard abdominal muscles, working their way across the stony ridges of my midsection.
Her touch on my leg had been electric, but her hand on my stomach sent off a series of sexual explosions through my body.
"Oooohhh," the woman cooed quietly in a deep, throaty purr, still looking directly ahead. "I can feel that you have a very muscular, manly body."
"What are you doing?" I whispered incredulously. "You can't just touch me like that!"
"What are you going to do?" the woman responded in an eloquent but thick Arabic accent. "Complain to the bus driver that you are being molested by a small devout Muslim woman? Nobody will believe you. You will be laughed at."
Her left hand moved further up my torso. She luridly rubbed my steely pectoral muscles, feeling the tight, waxed skin of my chest before naughtily tweaking my nipples with her warm, sweaty fingers. She was obviously hot under her robes and hijab.
"Oh my god," I said breathlessly, quivering at her touch. "You can't do this to me on a bus."
"I can do whatever I like," the woman responded with a sly giggle and pinched my nipple again. "Nobody will believe you...you will be the one that gets in trouble if you say anything. You men of the west are obsessed with all things sexual. Nobody will believe you."
The woman continued to rub my chest for a few moments, and then traced her fingers back down over my abdominal muscles, again feeling their marbled rigidity.
The woman then dropped her left hand right into my crotch, and started to rub my cock over my shorts with her adventurous fingers.
"Oh no, no...you can't do that," I said feebly while guiltily enjoying every minute of it. "We're on a bus. Someone might see us. You can't touch me there."
"Yes, I can," the woman said sternly, and rubbed my stiffening cock even more vigorously. "I can do what I like to you. Nobody can see us. Men of the west are all perverts...you are probably enjoying this...I can actually feel that you are enjoying this. I can feel your manhood swelling at my touch."
Her fingers then moved up from the enormous bulge of my crotch to the waistband of my shorts. She started fishing around.
When her fingers got to the button of my shorts, they stopped. She then reached over with her right hand and pulled at the button with both hands, awkwardly pulling it free and opening the top of my shorts.
"What are you doing?" I again pleaded weakly, illicitly overjoyed at what she was doing to me. "You can't undo my pants on the bus! Why are you doing this? You have to stop this!"
"No, I don't...I am going to take your pants down on this bus," the woman said firmly, "and there is nothing that you can do to stop me! I am doing this because it gives me pleasure to dominate you and embarrass you."
When she said this, the Muslim woman looked at me sharply and sternly for emphasis.
"You cannot stop me," she continued. "If anyone sees us, you will look like a pervert exposing your private parts to a devout woman. Your pants are coming down."
"Oh my god, I can't believe this," I muttered, and the woman wrenched down the zipper of my shorts, exposing my underwear. "God, I hope nobody gets on the bus..."
