Strangers in the Bus

There I was, in the dead of night, riding a “night owl” bus home after dinner with some friends. I’d had a few drinks, and rather than risk a crash – a friendly reminder to never drink and drive – or a breathalyzer bust with a hefty fine, I opted for public transit. I’d grab my car in the morning.

The bus was deserted, the streets pitch-black, and the driver was a burly guy with a scowl that could curdle milk. We rolled through the city until, out of nowhere, he pulled over. I wandered up to ask what was up, and he snapped that it was a shift change – wait it out or call a cab if I was in a hurry. Grumbling, I slumped into the back seat, resigned to the delay. Half an hour dragged by, no sign of anyone, until she showed up…

A tall, freckled girl stepped aboard and asked if the bus was running or headed to the depot. I told her it was still in service, just waiting on a new driver. She thanked me, plopped down beside me, and after a few quiet minutes, we started chatting – anything to kill the boredom. Her name was Lily, a graphic design student.

She’d been out with friends, but the night had soured. She confessed she’d had a rough time – drama with a friend who’d been eyeing the guy she liked. Then the tears came. She’d caught them making out, slapped them both, and stormed off. Before I could say much, she threw her arms around me. I hugged her back, and we sat there in silence for a bit. Finally, the new driver showed up, and the bus lurched forward.

We still had a ways to go – turns out Lily lived just a few blocks from me. She stayed pressed against me, then looked up and pecked my cheek, thanking me for listening when she needed to vent. I brushed her tears away, told her no thanks were necessary – that’s what strangers-turned-friends are for. She cracked a smile at that, then leaned in and kissed me – a quick peck at first, followed by a deeper, hungrier one. She shifted closer, her hand grazing my thigh, then brushing my crotch as she ran her fingers along my side.

I went with it, sliding my hand up her back, unhooking her bra under her shirt – tricky, but I managed – and tracing down to her tight, round ass under a short leather skirt. Things heated up fast, our touches growing bolder, less subtle.

I unbuttoned her top, nudged her bra aside, and latched onto her small, pink nipples – perky little peaks on pale, soft breasts that felt like heaven to tease. As I worked them, Lily unzipped me, freeing my dick, and started stroking, letting out soft moans, urging me to nibble gently – she loved it.

We caught the driver sneaking glances in the rearview, and it only fueled us. Lily slid back beside me, bent down, and peppered my cock with quick, sweet kisses – tip to base. Then she dragged her tongue up the reverse path, lingering to suck my balls before gliding back to the head. With a sudden move, she took me deep, swallowing me whole. I nearly lost it – her warm breath washing over me, sending shivers of pleasure I’d never felt before. My balls tightened, but I wasn’t ready to finish – it was her turn.

I told her to stand. Slipping off her lacy blue thong, she got on all fours in front of me. I dove between her thighs, lapping at a neatly trimmed patch of blonde curls. She lowered herself slightly, letting me devour her fully, while I kneaded her breasts with one hand. The bus swayed, making it awkward, but we didn’t care. I parted her lips, plunged my tongue inside, tasting her sweetness with every lick, nudging her clit with my nose.

Her moans grew louder, less restrained, driving me wild – my erection throbbing harder by the second. After a few more minutes, swirling from her slit to her clit, she came – trembling, gasping – but we weren’t done.

Still quivering, Lily pounced, kissing me fiercely. She straddled me, legs wide, guiding my cock along her wet folds – not inside, just teasing, shuddering when our sensitive spots met. Then, without hands, she eased down, taking me in inch by inch until I was buried deep. We both sighed, eyes shut, as she started riding – slow at first, our lips locked, tongues tangling. As she picked up speed, our kisses turned sloppy, laced with groans.

Her warmth coated me, slick and easy, our rhythm syncing perfectly. My balls slapped against her firm cheeks, her tits bouncing in my face. I caught them with my mouth, nipping lightly – she grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. We kept going, lost in it, until she came again – a shuddering, glorious mess.

Her juices trickled down me, her heat seeping into my skin, and I was close too. She whispered she wanted it on her nipples. With a swift move, she hopped off, pressed her breasts around me, and worked me with a mind-blowing titjob – squeezing, sliding, occasionally flicking the tip with her tongue. When I couldn’t hold back, she aimed me at her chest, and I unloaded – streams of cum painting her nipples as I collapsed, spent.

Our stop was close, so she wiped off, and we dressed. A few minutes later, we reached it. As we headed for the door, the driver called out – jerking himself off, grinning, begging us to ride his shift again, loving the “show.”

Lily and I burst out laughing, bolted off the bus, and left him to finish alone. That night, we went our separate ways, but other nights? We crashed together, exploring a whole lot more…

Image is illustrative. View Source.