("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( 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... _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: zipless.txt (mf,teen,mast,first) Authors name: rodsti@hotmail.com (Rod Stiffener) Story title : COMING ON A BUS == == == 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