The electronic ticket machine beeps and clicks and I grab my card back from it. As I look up, I see that the bus is fairly full, but not so full that I’ll have to stand, thankfully. There are one or two people sitting on every double seat. So I do what I usually do: I find myself a vacant seat on the right-hand side of the bus (making it easier to get to the doors, which are on the left) next to an attractive female (but hey, don’t all guys do this?). From what I can see, there are quite a few to choose from — the early Brisbane autumn feels the same as summer and so short skirts and skimpy tops are everywhere. Mind you, I can’t see everyone sitting on the bus, because this is one of the models of the old Brisbane City Council buses with the high seat-backs, making it hard for passengers to see in front of them or to be seen from the front of the bus.
I make my choice and plonk myself down next to her. She seems young — probably in first-year. Her skin is pale and creamy. Her rich-brown hair is tied up, but not too tightly – the strands at the sides either dip before the hair-tie or hang down completely, tucked behind her delicate little ears. She’s not wearing much make-up, if any, and that’s what I like.
She’s staring out the window and looks a little tired. She has quite an ample cleavage for a thin girl, clearly visible over her low-cut, pale blue top. Her lap is covered by an old brown cotton bag that might be an old library bag, but nonetheless I can see the shortness of her white denim skirt; it barely comes a third of the way down her thighs. As the bus takes off, I try to conceal my checking her out by looking out the window beyond her. Outside it’s sunny and the roads are busy.
I look in other directions: in front of me and across out the other side of the bus. Just another day of uni ahead, it seems. My thoughts are unable to venture far from the beautiful girl sitting next to me. I must keep looking at her — I can’t help myself. I keep glancing sideways at her, discreetly. I look at her legs, so smooth and shapely. I look at her breasts again, wishing for a touch. I glance momentarily at her face, hoping she isn’t noticing my looking. She doesn’t seem to be — she’s still staring out the window. Her face, neck, and cleavage are being lightly kissed by the sun.
When I look in front of me again, I see in my peripheral vision her face turn briefly towards mine. Did she look at me? I glance towards her again, and she looks away. Usually when I check out the girls I sit next to, they don’t join in the game! I look down at her legs again, wishing that bag wasn’t there so I could see more of them. I feel my heartbeat speed up a little. I notice that the gap between her leg and mine is not very far; she’s not sitting with her knees together. In my peripheral vision, I see her look at me again — not my face this time, but my body and my leg, as far as I can tell. I’m getting the beginnings of an erection. I glance at her face instinctively, and she pretends to look away. I swear I see a very little smile on her face. antalya escort Whatever’s going on here, I like it. I look back at our legs. As she’s looking out the window, I see her leg move towards mine, so they are touching. It has to be deliberate. My pulse is pounding my head now and my dick is fully hard. I’m loving every second of this game.
I figure I’ll test the waters a little, see if she’s for real. I move my right hand down to my pants pocket on her side, pretending to check if my phone’s there, which it is. From my pocket, I slowly and subtly move my hand down my leg, so that the backs of my fingers brush her thigh. It’s smooth and firm. She doesn’t move her leg away. I slowly slide my hand up my leg and then down again, making my gesture less ambiguous. I glance at her face to see her reaction. She doesn’t look at me. She’s looking straight ahead and still has that little smile. I can see from the movement of her breasts that her breathing is getting heavy. I wonder if she’s as nervous and excited as I am. I feel her press her leg against mine as I keep stroking it with the back of my hand. This is too good to be true.
I look across at the seat opposite us. I could’ve sworn there were people sitting on, but it’s empty. They must have gotten off the bus a couple of minutes ago. I look out the window beyond the girl. The traffic is heavy, which is common on Coronation Drive at this time of morning. This trip is going to take quite a while. For once, I’m glad it will. No one on the bus has much of a view of what we’re up to, not even the driver in his mirror. It’s time to have some fun.
I change hands, removing the hand I was stroking her thigh with to hold my own backpack, which is on my lap. I reach my other hand, my left, across my body and to her thigh, turning my body slightly towards her. Without either of us saying a word, I begin stroking the outside of her thigh, stopping occasionally to squeeze it. Her breathing is at its heaviest now, and she closes her eyes momentarily and spreads her legs as wide as she can in the small amount of space, that old brown bag still on top of them. I move my hand across to the inside of her thigh and underneath the corner of the bag, working my way up slowly and patiently. She grips her bag with both hands, holding it against her body so that the bottom of it still covers the upper part of her lap, still without looking into my eyes. Is she too ashamed or too shy? Closing her eyes again, I hear her say the first and only words for both of us. She whispers breathily, “Yes, do it!”
Her skirt has ridden up a little from her spreading her legs. Under her bag, my hand moves firmly up her inner thigh. As I get to her panties, she jolts a little, her heavy breathing remaining as quiet as she can keep it. I look across the bus again. Neither of us wants our game to be noticed. I rub her crotch with my fingers, feeling that her panties are soaking wet. I feel her clit through the fabric, pressing and circling. I look at her beautiful tits again and notice that her nipples serik escort are visibly erect.
I grab the opposite side of her panty crotch with my index finger and pull it across, so that her pussy is fully exposed to my hand. I stroke her engorged clit, and and down and in circles. It feels like she’s completely shaved. She’s biting her lip to stop herself from moaning. All that can be seen looking towards her crotch is that bag of hers moving up and down with the movements of my hand. Who would have thought that such an old, daggy bag could allow such a sexy time to happen?
Switching to one finger, I press her clit harder and move further on the downstroke, heading down to her opening. Changing the angle of my hand, I slide my finger into her hole. She jolts again. I push it gently into her soft, wet pussy as far as it will go, and then bring it up and over her clit again. I continue fingering her like this, gradually speeding up the tempo. My own breathing is quite heavy, and my erection is hot and throbbing in my pants. Her eyes squeezed closed, the expression on her face is one of sheer ecstasy. The whole time, we make hardly any noise, or at least nothing that can be heard over the engine of the bus. Out the window, I see that we’re not even halfway through the trip. I can hear someone behind us whinging about being late again.
My hand is now moving as fast as it can under the weight of the bag. I want to take her over the edge. I want to finish her. I bring my focus to her clit, rubbing two fingers over it side-to-side as hard and fast as I can. Her mouth drops open into voiceless moans, her head tilted back. Her hips buck violently, her legs occasionally hitting me and the wall next to her. I can slightly smell her juices and hope that no one near us can. In a single moment of release, her body tenses up and jerks back, as if shot by a gun. I feel a little squirt of liquid on my fingertips. She has climaxed. I’m amazed she managed to do so without screaming like a banshee, letalone without her voice making even a sound!
She opens her eyes, panting, looking completely spent. For the first time, she looks into my eyes. We both smile. She merely says “Thanks.” My hand still under her skirt, I move her panties back in place and bring my hand up to my face. The bus stops suddenly at traffic lights and we both jerk forward a little. I smell her scent on my fingers as she watches, and taste them. Her juices are sweet. She bites her lip in a mischievous smile.
We’re only about halfway through the bus trip. Is she thinking what my still rock-hard cock is thinking? She sits up fully and looks around. Wasting no time, she brings her hand straight to my crotch, feeling my sideways-sitting cock though my cargo pants, behind my backpack. I move so that I’m sitting squarely in my seat, ready for what is to come. She tries to undo the button of my pants with one hand, but it’s stretched too tightly. I help her out. She unzips my fly slowly and discreetly spreads the flaps of my pants. side escort She pulls the elastic of my undies down and over my dick, which springs up in response. She lets out a quiet giggle. She grabs my dick and begins stroking at a moderate pace. All the while, I do my best to conceal what she’s doing with my backpack. The head of my dick rubs against it, and it feels kinda good.
Her eyes are fixed intently on my cock; her hand is setting it on fire. It seems like the biggest erection I’ve ever had, and the hottest handjob also. It won’t take much before I explode. She knows this too, so she slows down and circles my dick with her hand, teasing the head with her fingers. I let out some hard, sudden breaths. She continues stroking again in a slow, full-length manner. As the bus turns a sharp corner she leans into me, and she speeds up a little. We can both see the little pool of pre-cum gathering at the eye. She tilts my dick back a little and it runs down the top of my head and shaft, meeting her thumb.
The traffic has eased now and I realise the trip will be over soon. Damn! I want it to last forever. She looks out the window to, my creamy angel, and realises the same thing. She speeds up her stroking. It’s bliss — I close my eyes and tilt my head back, pushing my hips up somewhat. I hear her whisper, “Nearly there…” I don’t know whether she’s talking about the bus or my orgasm, but wither way she’s right. I feel the tension in my balls as my whole lower body starts to tingle and throb. I open my eyes and look at my cock. We both know I’m arriving. She’s a clever girl — she slows down her strokes to prolong the moment.
My eyes widen and I pant heavier. At last. My hips jolt. The first squirt of cum hits the back of my backpack, to which my cock is so close. The following few squirts land in my pubes, and the rest of it oozes straight down my cock and over her hand. It just keeps on coming. I hope nobody has noticed us. I slump a little and catch my breath, her hand still on by still-throbbing erection. I turn to look at her and smile tiredly. I say “Thanks.” She brings her hand, my jizz pooled on the top of it and a thread of it hanging down from her thumb, to her face. In the most beautiful moment of all, she discreetly and causally sucks the cum from her hand, being sure to get every drop, eating it as she goes. She only makes a sound as she sucks the last glob of it – a cute sucking noise. I don’t think anyone notices. We smile at each other again with unspoken connectedness. There’s a little spot of cum on the corner of her cute mouth, but I don’t tell her, because I’m still feeling naughty and mischievous.
I realise the bus is getting close to campus, so I rush to put away my dick and do up my pants. Miraculously, no cum got on my shirt. I take out my hankie and wipe the cum from my backpack, being careful to get it all. As the bus pulls up to the uni bus station, I shove my hankie back in my pocket, and we leave the bus along with all the other passengers. I wonder if any of them heard or saw what we did…? Right now, I don’t care too much — it was well worth it. Once I’m off the bus I look behind me to see her, but she has exited from the other door and vanished. I don’t mind. This was just a game, a beautiful one-off. Who knows — maybe I’ll see her on the bus again someday.