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Subject: "Bus" by Rod Stiffener (mf,teen,mast,first) NEW
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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW! Thank you...
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Archive name: zipless.txt (mf,teen,mast,first)
Authors name: rodsti@hotmail.com (Rod Stiffener)
Story title : COMING ON A BUS
(c) October 1998
== == ==
This work is copyrighted to the author. No changes may
be made to this story, and the author information must
remain intact. This work may be copied freely for non-
profit purposes only.
== == ==
*******************************************************
COMING ON A BUS
*******************************************************
This was the third time in my life that I touched a
woman, but without going all the way just yet. I was
17, and going on a bus trip with a soccer team for a
sports tournament.
The tournament was an annual event between two
teams, each located in cities about 11 hours bus ride
from each other. This year, it was our turn to play the
"away" match. We left in the evening, timing it to arrive
at about 8:00 the next morning.
And yes, I know that all sorts of stories get written
about this or that happening on buses, trains,
aeroplanes and other unlikely places, and they probably
ARE mostly bullshit, but this story happened, and it
happened to me.
Why am I writing this now, years later? Because
"dangerous sex" does something to me, and this episode
marked the beginning of that trend. Even now I get
horny just thinking about it. I hope it does the same to
you.
By the time I got on the bus, it was already full. I had
to sit right at the front, directly behind the driver's seat.
I was next to a girl a year younger than me, in fact she
was the younger sister of one of my classmates, Aasha,
who was sitting in the row behind with her boyfriend.
They are both from India, petite and very dark in
complexion, not all that pretty with big hooked noses,
but with nice curvy figures. They were at our school as
overseas scholarship students.
I could probably have started dating Aasha a few
months back as I had sensed some interest from her.
But I had been obsessed with someone else (fruitlessly,
as it turned out - I lacked judgement in those days) and
now she had someone else.
Anyway, the bus got underway, and at the back there
was quite a bit of beer flowing and noise being made by
the team's supporters, singing songs and banging empty
beer cans together in time to the "music". People at the
front were more interested in getting some sleep as
there was a long night ahead and a long day
tommorrow.
It was mid-winter and pretty chilly on the ancient,
unheated bus. Next to me, Premila had a sleeping bag
which she thoughtfully unzipped and opened out like a
blanket. It was big enough to cover us both without
having to get too close in proximity. We hardly knew
each other, but we chatted about this and that for a
while. Others around us had also covered themselves
with whatever was available to keep out the cold, and
after about 4 or 5 hours most people at the front had
dozed off.
Those at the back had drunk the place dry, and their
earlier merriment had turned to desperation as the beer
was slowly but surely filtered back through their
kidneys. The driver was not about to stop for anybody,
so empty beer cans got surreptitiously filled again.
I dozed off into a light and fitful sleep, as did Pre-
mila. The movement of the bus got my head lolling down
onto my shoulder and my body slumped sideways,
toward Premila, until we were making body contact. I
hadn't done this on purpose, but I think Premila must
have got the impression that I had. At any rate, she
proved herself to be an adventurous sort of a girl,
because I awoke suddenly to find that she was holding
my hand in hers.
Seeing that I was conscious again, she gave my hand a
squeeze. Worried that people behind would see us so
close and think that we were snogging, I pulled my
body more upright and away from her, but I still
allowed my hand to be held, and I squeezed it back. We
looked at each other in the dim light, and she gave me
a wink. Then she pulled my hand to her and put it
between her thighs, clamping it and holding me there
against the wool of her winter skirt. Her hand was now
free, and she placed it on my own denim-clad thigh.
Our hands were still in the fairly non-erogenous mid-
thigh area, but her implication was clear. She wanted
to play.
I chuckled to myself, "But Madam, I hardly know you!"
And getting to know her better was going to be
awkward, under these circumstances. One wrong
move, and we would have a whole busload of football
hooligans standing up for a better look at us.
But if I was so worried, why was my cock now trying to
bust out of my pants? My mind was saying "Uh-oh!"
while my cock was saying "YES! YES! YES!" This was
one of my first discoveries that sex in dangerous
situations is one of my all-time turnons.
She took the lead, starting to stroke her hand up and
down my inner thigh, in slow movements that got
bigger until the side of her hand was bumping against
my balls. I returned the favour, sliding the wool of
her heavy skirt back and forth along smooth, firm
young legs.
We were hesitant with each other at first, being both
virginal and not that confident, not really sure where
the boundaries with each other lay, and a bit scared
that at any time one of us would say "Stop! Enough!"
But gradually I got bolder, and she seemed relieved that
she could stop taking the lead and let me get on with it.
But get on with what? It is hard to do anything very
sexual when sitting at the front of a crowded bus. If we
were to get our rocks off, we would have to be very
subtle about it.
She was concentrating on the tops of my thighs and my
balls, making little circles over the tight-stretched
denim with her fingertips. It was nice, though the
fabric deadened the sensations somewhat. It was more
the excitement and the danger of the circumstances that
was keeping my dick so hard.
I started making little circles on her inner thighs,
and then slipped my hand over her mound, cupping it
through the heavy skirt she ws wearing. It was
awkward bending my arm back at that angle and I had
to raise that shoulder and lean the other way a bit
so that my hand could reach her.
This was the first time I had got my hand onto a real
live pussy, and it was different from what I expected. I
expected it to be all soft and hidden, but it was firm
and puffy and rose up from her belly.
And her boobs? What about her boobs? I had to
contort myself a bit like Houdini, the famous Escape
Artist, to get my arm up under the spread-out blanket
and onto her chest without arousing anyone's
suspicions. Her own elder sister was right behind us,
remember? And only three feet in front of us, the bus
driver, a middle-aged man who only had to turn his
greying head around to look right down into our laps.
Contact! I had slid my hand up under her sweater and
t-shirt and onto her breasts. She had a bra on, but it
was a thin one and I could feel all that there was to
feel of her right breast, cupped in my hand all warm
and soft. It was a useful size, slightly more than a
handful, feeling heavy in my hand, and capped by a
large teat.
I could easily feel the nipple poking into the palm of
my hand, and I shifted slightly so that I could move it
across my fingers, like a stick being swiped against a
picket fence. This apparently was most stimulating
because, after three or four minutes of this, it became
even more upstanding and offered stout resistance to
my manipulations.
I spent a few more minutes enjoying her breasts,
tugging her nipple through her bra, rolling it between
my fingers. I tried the other one to see if I could get
its nipple to match the hardness of the first one.
Premila lay back, leaning away from me against the
window of the bus to give me room to move, head leaned
back and eyes closed, feigning sleep. Her hand was
busy under the covers, though, exploring the hard ridge
under the front of my jeans with the flat of her hand,
getting its measure and giving it the occasional squeeze.
She reached up with her other hand and tugged one bra
cup down a bit, so that the nipple popped free. I could
now get my hand onto it properly, and could twist and
turn it, and roll it around. She had very large teats,
and would look great in a swimsuit or braless in a
t-shirt. Cocks would stand up everywhere at the sight
of such bullets being visible.
I left her boobs and went back to her crotch. Getting
frustrated with trying to feel her pussy through her
skirt, I reached down and pulled it up until I could get
my hand under the hem. She helped me bunch it up
onto her lap, so that under the opened-out sleeping bag,
her legs and crotch were bare. I ran my hands up her
silky thighs and made contact with the front of her
panties. Just a thin covering compared with the skirt, I
could feel her cleft all soft and warm to my touch.
I touched and dabbed delicately, scared I might hurt
her, not knowing what she could tolerate, but at the
same time wanting to probe deep. I wasn't yet ready to
go under her panties, I just rubbed her through them
and explored all around, running my finger down
betwen her arse cheeks and back up to the hardness of
her pubic bone, feeling crisp springy hairs under the
light material covering the top of her mound.
She was lying back, eyes closed, with a look of
concentration on her face, and not so active with my
prick now, just idly stroking up and down my jeans. I
dediced to up the ante. I removed my hand from her
crotch for a moment and undid my fly, pulling my erect
penis out into the open. When she put her hand back
on me, it met with bare, hard flesh and she pulled away
suddenly. Then her hand stole back onto me and closed
around it.
I put my own hand back onto her lower belly and this
time slid under the waistband of her bikini panties,
until my fingers were entangled in a lush growth of
hairs. I stroked and teased them, inching downwards
until my finger started into the furrow at the apex of
her bush. I couldn't get further because her panties
were too restrictive, so I took my hand out and tugged
at the waistband at the her side.
There was no way I would get her panties off unaided,
without attracting attention from people behind us.
But she took the hint and raised up her bottom just
enough for the panties to be tugged about halfway
down her thighs. She took up a new position which
had her legs spread, one foot propped up on a sports
bag on the floor and the other foot up on the base of
the busdriver's seat. There, that was much better!
Concealed beside me under the big quilted blanket was
a naked female crotch, opened out and waiting for me.
I could hardly believe our daring, as I put my hand on
her mound once more. I started out slowly by playing
with the luxuriant pussy hair, long and thick. I stroked
and teased, edging lower and lower down to soft and
delicate lips, and traced along the sides of her cleft.
Her legs were spread to give me full access, but nobody
could tell what we were doing.
I explored all around the opened space between her
legs, sliding my hand down onto her butt and dragging
my finger over her arsehole and back up her cleft to the
top. I trod carefully across her entrance, where the lips
felt so tender, and I did not know what she could take
without hurting. But my hand kept being drawn to
that spot, which seemd to heat up the more I played
with it. Soon, the friction of my finger between her
folds lessened as things began to get slippery. I found
that I could spread this slipperiness around with my
finger, and as I did so it increased, replaced by more
coming from inside her. She was softening and
opening up to me, and I pushed my finger in as far as I
could from that awkward angle.
My hand was now cupping her mound, with finger
laying along her cleft and turned inward to penetrate
her. I started sliding it in and out in little fucking
actions, and the moisture flowing from her was carried
by a kind of capillary action up over a little bud at the
top.
She was still holding my cock, but not doing anything
with it, being too intent on what was happening to her.
I got into a kind of a rhythm of slow movements that
sawed my finger along her cleft. It moved in and out of
her so easily, as by now the whole area was well
lubricated. She lay back as I continued my
surreptitious movements on her, and she looked for all
the world like she was sleeping.
I kept going, and wondered how long I should keep this
up. I mean, did she like things as they were, or did she
want me to do something different? What would be the
next step after this? Would there even be a next step?
Well, I figured that if she DIDN'T like what I was doing
to her, she would have got me to stop by now. And
from the dreamy expression on her face, it was likely
that she DID like it.
Then I felt squeezing, little tightenings around my
inserted finger. Each time I pushed into her, my finger
would be gripped in an elastic embrace by her insides.
These got stronger, and I felt her lower body tremble
and hips tilt upward. I looked at her and saw she was
biting onto the edge of her hand in an effort to control
the feelings that were going over her. Then it all
subsided, and she pulled my hand away.
We just sat there for a few minutes, as she held my
hand in hers and closed her thighs around them,
locking me in between her smooth bare legs. This was
time-out, for her to enjoy the afterglow of what had just
happened to her. I never found out if this was her first
orgasm, but I was sure it was her first with another
person.
I checked around us. Most people were dozing or
conversing quietly or just staring out the window.
Nobody was paying any attention to us, particularly
Premila's elder sister who had her head on her
boyfriends shoulder and eyes shut. So far, so good.
But what I wanted to happen next was going to need
some more vigorous activity on Premila's part.
I extracted my hand from between her legs and brought
her hand back onto my dick again. It was still hard,
and starting to feel a bit numb from being hard for so
long. I encouraged her to grip it and start stroking me
up and down, just slowly at first. Releasing my belt
and top button gave her more room, and soon she was
feeling me all around, being particularly fascinated
with stroking my balls. I rested my hand in her crotch
and idly played with her pussy hair as she attended to
me.
She probably wanted to see me, to look at my cock
properly, and I certainly had wanted to see her pussy
close up. Neither of us had been this close to anyone
else's genitals before, and we wanted the full monty.
But it was just not possible in those circumstances; it
was so risky even feeling each other, let alone looking.
Premila was gripping my shaft again but stroking it too
slowly for much progress to be made. Sure, it feels
nicer when someone else does it, but it was time to pick
up the pace. I guided her hand to the top of my shaft,
so that her grip was rolling my foreskin back and forth
over the cockhead. I got her to grip more tightly and
just concentrate on the penultimate three inches, and
with my hand on her wrist I was able to set a good
tempo for her strokes.
This was getting more vigorous, and the truly
observant behind us would be able to spot some motion
beneath the blanket. Fortunately it was hidden from
most by the seat back, and anyway, I wanted to come!
The feeling was getting nicer and nicer, as Premila got
the hang of stimulating me without hurting me. There
was a very pleasant friction as my foreskin was slid
back and forth in the grip of her hand, and she was
squeezing just the right amount. My hand dug deeper
into her crotch and a finger slipped between her
delicate pussy lips again, as my cock began to tingle
with the onset of orgasm.
Then I was thrusting my hips to "fuck" her hand in
bigger movements in time to my squirts. Just in time I
held my other hand like a cup to catch the first shots,
and the rest dribbled out over her hand. She felt the
hot stuff land on her, but kept milking my dick until I
was ready to pull her hand away.
She brought her hand out into the open and looked at it
in awe and fascination, studying the white globs on her
smooth dark skin. But she didn't know what to do with
it next, and seemed a bit awkward about it. I offered
her my hankey and she wiped it up. I then wiped my
own sticky hand and my cockend before zipping up,
and she also put all her clothing back into place.
Had we been spotted? A look around showed that no
one seemd to be any the wiser. I couldn't believe we
had pulled it off! As sex goes, it was just mutual
masturbation, but the danger of it gave us an extra
thrill.
Premila gave me a grin and squeezed my hand again,
then we dozed off again until dawn, feeling very
satisfied and pleased with ourselves.
And after that? Well, next day at the after-match
function, someone else made a beeline for her and I
made a beeline for someone else. We never did get
together and screw properly. Like most young
teenagers, we had a short attention span.
Kind of a "zipless grope" I guess you could say, if you
were the literary type, which I certainly wasn't in those
days. Aah, youth!
_________________________________________________
Kristen's collection - Directory 8 - Text 8399
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