He turned a little towards me and put his left hand on the back of my neck and pulled my face towards him, giving me little pecks on my lips. Then he pulled again and his lips fastened on mine, his tongue sliding out and licking at me, pushing into my mouth which opened with no resistance, my face turned at an angle to facilitate his wishes. And all the time my hand moved, sliding up and down, his skin moving up and down the hard shaft. He pulled back and looked up the bus. My eyes followed his. There was an old man sitting about 6 seats further forward who was sitting sideways in his seat and was watching, open-mouthed.
His hand was pulling me again. He kissed me and then pulled my head into his neck. I leant against him my forehead pressed against his collar, but the pressure didn't let up. He was pulling my head down. My cheek slid over his chest and then onto his stomach. We both knew where this ended. I pushed back a little but he wasn't letting up. My mouth got closer and closer to his penis, standing proud. I could smell it -- a slightly sweet, sweaty smell. And then it was touching my cheek, smearing it. His hand pressed on the back of my head and his hips thrust upwards, the head of his cock pressed against my lips and then I yielded and took him in. My tongue swirled and gathered his juice, thick and slippery, cloying. He continued to thrust up at me and I stayed still, letting him provide the pace and depth that he wanted.I was still in a world of my own, but the conflict in my mind had gone, leaving me completely compliant, all thoughts other than being a vessel for him to fill had disappeared. I loved his cock, long and slim, sliding deep, pistoning into my wet mouth, my saliva and his juices mingling and dripping onto his underwear. He pulled me off to allow me to draw breath and I found myself face to face with our observer who had moved into the seat in front of us. He was in the aisle seat, but turned to look back at us. As I stared into his eyes, just 6 inches from my own, the Indian reached over my half prone body and reached up under my skirt, pressing his fingers into me. "So wet, bitch" he said and then sat up and slid his hand into the neck of my top and into my bra, finding my nipple instantly and pinching hard. I yelped.
And then he pushed my head down and he came hard, shooting forceful ropes of semen at me. Aiming for my mouth but only partially accurate, he covered the lower half of my face. I half lay, panting and then there was the ting of the bus stopping and he was standing and dragging me down the bus. The door opened and he pushed me out onto the pavement. "Whore" he said and then the doors shut and the bus was off and I stood, stunned on the pavement. There was a little parade of shops and I hastily wiped my hand across my face, gathering the semen and then standing, my hand coated and the bitter taste still in my mouth.
