Wandering thoughts of an over sexual mind
The bus is packed! As usual. I get on and there is standing room only, I would hardly call it room as I am pressed against the people around me like sardines lined up in a tin. I have been leaning against a cushioned rail designed for this very purpose. As we jolt to a halt the doors wheeze open allowing a fresh wave of sardines to enter. I hunch down trying to take up as little space as possible. A man comes and stands directly in front of me and grabs the hand hold above my head. I drown in the intoxicating scent of his cologne. I lift my eyes… I am at chest height. I can see his physique pressing against his faded cotton tee shirt less than a foot in front of me. I try to peek up at him but we are so close in proximity that my attempt will me made too obvious. I can see his jaw. Sharp and covered with a short layer of intentional stubble. I fantasize about the feeling of it scrape my inner thighs. As the bus lurches again he stumbles slightly forward into my waning space, grabbing hold of me for support. A wave of people exit and a new wave of people push past us, rhythmically bumping him into me. I can feel his cock against my leg. His smooth voice whispers an apology to the top of my head. I still haven’t looked up. Fuck I drop my phone, I have to bend awkwardly to pick it up off the floor from between the feet of the sleeping student in the seat beside me. As I turn and bend I once again feel his cock against me. This time though, it is solid, pressed hard against my ass. I know my tight skirt has ridden up as I contort myself while trying to balance and collect my phone. I can feel the denim of his jeans rough against my ass cheek. I push back a little, a silent acknowledgement of awareness that the attraction is mutual. As I stand, I have my back to him, now resting my pelvis on the cushion, enjoying the weight of him pressed against me. His breath hot on my neck as he inhales my scent. His fingers grip into my hip, so firm I swear he is leaving little bruises in the shape of his fingertips. His other hand sliding down my spine, and over my ass. I arch, presenting him with the best possible access I can muster. AS his fingers glide over my panties, they find their way underneath them, and with the jolt of the bus dips them inside of me. I grip the rail as I press my lips firmly together as to not draw any attention to us. My flushed face and jagged breathing the only potential give away as his hands are buried In deep inside me amongst a sea of bodies and bags that bump against us. He very gently explores the folds of my pussy, running his fingers over my (thankfully) smooth skin and diving into the pool of wetness created almost instantly at his touch. I flush and duck my head as I press my lips even tighter together to inhibit my pleasure from escaping my mouth. He begins to rub against my clit in perfect circular motions causing me to jerk slightly, my movements concealed by the movements of the bus. I am about to cum. I am about to cum in front of strangers on a bus, at the hand of another stranger. The thought sends me spiraling. I can feel my body clench and the air in my lungs burns as I hold it in. He driver slams on the breaks and an avalanche of passengers crash into us. His fingers reefed from inside me and I let out an audible gasp. It goes unnoticed as the commotion amongst passengers is fairly loud. I am left standing reeling. My pleasure literally ripped from me, left hanging on a precipice. I exhale short breaths as I try to collect my trembling body and regain my stance against the rail. I take the opportunity to look over my shoulder in an effort to lock eyes with my stranger. He is not there. Instead a line of school hats and bags bob past meas they exit in single file. I crane my neck looking over them, but nothing, as if he was a figment of my imagination. Confused I turn back to my position pressed against the rail gazing out the window of the bus. My mind racing, absorbing the extent of what has just happened. My daze broken by an enchanting grin surrounded by the chiseled, stubbled jaw I recognized from before. He offers me a wink as he draws his fingers up to his mouth to taste the remnants of my desire. I flush with embarrassment as the bus jerks away from the stop and he disappears out of sight. I turn around, back to my original position resting my ass against the rail looking around to gauge my fellow passengers, still buried in their phones and books to even notice any indifference to their day. I spend the remainder of my trip lost in my imagination, dreaming of my uneventful pleasure.
