A Dark Tale Ch. 01

Sylvia.

Sometimes I walk to work sometimes I take my car, but just recently I've started taking the bus, more and more. Taking the bus started 3 weeks ago, it was raining heavily and my car was in the garage having some work done.

Right now I'm waiting for the bus again. It'll be crowded as usual, and hopefully I'll have to stand. I say hopefully, because then I can stand right next to him. He is usually sat down reading a book.

I get on the bus, and oh great, there he is sat in an aisle seat. My dream is guy sat next to some fat woman in her 50's, so his leg is sticking out in the aisle. I stand facing him hold on to the leather strap over head. He's still reading his book and hasn't really noticed me yet, all in good time girl, I tell myself.

He is in his mid 20's I guess, tall, slim, and he wears a suit. His hand is resting on his knee. I slide my foot forward slowly, painfully slowly. I hold my breath, and there, my leg touches his hand. He moves his hand away and looks up at me and smiles, and pulls his leg in, realising his foot was in the passageway, and maybe it was his fault.

My vibrator is working so very hard, as I lay in bed imagining what I wanted to happen with my dream guy this morning. I'll call him Adam, until I find out his real name.

So I imagine my leg moves forward and it touches his hand. He doesn't move it in my fantasy. I smile at him and he smiles back. Those perfect white teeth that I'd love to run my tongue over, are there drawing me in. I start moving my leg just a few inches back and forth, rubbing lightly on the back of his hand. His head rises from his book, and he looks out of the window, and then he smiles that, "I can't believe this is happening," smile.

Slowly he starts rubbing my leg with his knuckles, until he lifts his hand off his leg and I feel his palm slide up the inside of my leg. His black hand slides up and up and up, taking my skirt a little higher, and it glides up over my stocking top.

I part my legs a little, inviting him all the way. He worms his fingers in my panties and finds my wet slit. My pussy almost sucks his finger in, and then he starts fucking me slowly with his finger. It is heaven and hell in my fantasy, I want his cock, but that will come later.

I imagine myself twisting my hands in the two over head straps on the bus. The straps become ties which hold my arms outstretched. A second long finger joins the other deep in my pussy, and they wriggle like two little snakes. My eyes are closed, as my pussy dribbles over his fingers. My legs are shuddering and my high heels drag across the floor of the bus. I'm getting close to an orgasm now, both in my fantasy, and here on my bed.

The fantasy takes on a horrible twist. I open my eyes about to come and smile at him. Then I notice the old woman has her head in his lap, sucking his cock! I scratch that part of my fantasy.

So I open my eyes about to come, and he isn't there. To my horror it's the old woman fingering me with a horrid twisted grin on her face, and my hands really are tied in the straps, so I'm hers to do what she wants with. I scratch that fantasy, cursing my humiliation kink.

I fuck myself to a climax with my vibrator, as in my fantasy, Adam my young black guy, fingers me to a very intense orgasm.

Geoff.

Well there you go Geoffrey Baker, you thought you'd lost Sylvia but no, she has been taking the bus. I don't think she has ever noticed me in the last few weeks, watching her.

You see I been hanging round that sexy shop. I got to know what's her name quite well. She runs the sex shop. She's older than me and to be honest quite a bitch, she likes both blokes and women, so I've heard. I was in there one day just chatting to her before the pubs opened. I remember now Jayne is her name. Anyway in come these two women.

Jayne whispers, "Eyes off Geoff, that's my daughter, Beverly."

I look at Jayne and she is watching the other one. I mention it to her, and she tells me what she wouldn't give to have Sylvia's face between her legs. Her daughter hands over the keys to her house, apparently Jayne is baby sitting for her daughter later on. I watch the other one, Sylvia. She looks a bit embarrassed to be in a sex shop, but I see her eyes glancing round all the gear. They go out and I find out what I can from Jayne about Sylvia. Jayne, who talks too much, tells me all I need to know about her daughter's sexy friend.

It all really started in mid October with Sylvia. I had to get some cash from the bank next door to York's, that big department store where Jayne told me Sylvia works. I heard her coming out with a few of the other girls who work there, and naturally my head turned. She didn't see me; she was too busy talking about getting someone to fix her iron. She parted company with her workmates, and I followed her. She didn't hang about, in even 4 inch heels.

I kept my distance and followed her all the way home, watching her arse roll in that tight fitting skirt as she walked had me hooked. She went up an alley between two rows of houses. I followed hanging back a bit more. I watched her go in a gate to one of the gardens, and got there just in time to see her lift a plant pot, pick up a key, and let her self in the back door.

I couldn't believe the stupid cow leaves the key to her back door under a plant pot. Now with information like that I couldn't turn down the chance to come back a few days later, when she was working. I'll admit I was caught between nicking stuff, and waiting for her to get home from work, and well having a good time with her. I spent a few hours in her place, and in that time I found out so much about Sylvia. I even had a quick look at her iron, the fuse had blown.

I went back the next day and replaced the fuse. Well she needed an iron to keep those blouses and skirts looking good for work. At the time I thought girls like that should have a man around, and Geoffrey Baker is the man Sylvia is going to get, whether she likes it or not.

Sylvia.

For the last three days I couldn't get near him on the bus. All that excited anticipation, which built up in my mind each morning, thinking about Adam and being next to him, so cruelly destroyed.

Today the bus is even more crowded. The driver is explaining why to an irate passenger, who has told the driver he has never had to stand on a bus before in his life for the third time, that the bus company has done away with the second bus which usually follows this one, for a trial period of a month. The passenger points out, which I think is a fair point, that after three days surely the driver should tell his boss that the bus is full, and it isn't going to get any better, unless the bus company actually wants to lose customers.

I squeeze up the aisle trying to get near my dream guy, Adam. He is actually sat in passageway seat again, but I can't get any nearer, because I'm blocked by a few people who can't move anymore. So I turn holding the leather strap a few places away from him, frustrated.

I had everything planned this time. I left my bag open with a book to show Adam I was like him and read too. We would have had something in common then. Something to get the ball rolling, so we'd start chatting and he would eventually ask me out. Well that's how I sort of imagined it, a long shot, but you know what imaginations are like.

The bus sweeps round a corner and I'm bumped by some guy behind me. I try to move a little hoping that I can get nearer to Adam, but it's no use. I ease back a little, to where I was standing, but it seems someone has moved into my space, and is now stood right behind me.

I curse myself for pinning my hair up, as I feel some guy's breath on the back of my neck. God, I want to shudder as again I feel his used air tickling my skin. I move slightly, trying to get my exposed neck away from the bulky guy behind me. He seems to have trapped me slightly. Why the hell can't he turn his bloody head away from the back of my neck? He must know he is breathing all over me!

Mr Grizzle, the passenger who complained to the driver, has stopped going on at the driver, and has now cornered a couple of passengers, grizzling at them about the overcrowded bus. I wish someone would get up and let him sit down; he and the guy behind me are stopping my fantasy.

So like I said, I would have sat next to Adam, got my book, out and started reading. He would have glanced and asked me what I was reading. I would have flipped the book to show him. His eyes would have opened a little wider, and all would be revealed, "50 shades of Grey."

The book is actually quite naff, and the film is worse, but it would show Adam I'm a sexual girl, and hell, if he wanted to tie me up, then great!

Still, I've decided not to be put off by not getting closer to Adam. I've seen Adam go to the coffee shop now and then when he gets off the bus, and today, little old me will be hot on his heels.

God if that cretin bumps against me again I'm going to scream. Hopefully he'll be getting off soon. His bloody breath is back on my neck. And his belly is now resting against me. I swear some people don't know when they are invading someone else's space. Okay it's crowded, but what gives him the right to just lean against me like that. Right take this I think. I swing my bag round behind me and shove back a little. There that did.

Oh shit, my bag is open, and the bastard has probably been digging in my bag looking for my purse.

The bus stops a little quickly and I'm forced sharply back, and my ass hit's the guy behind me. Probably the only thrill Mr Bulky Asshole will get all day.

I follow Adam in the coffee shop. He's in the queue right in front of me. I twist a button opening my white blouse a little more. I wore my push up bra today, shoving my tits together and now well, if he turns round he won't be able to miss them. I feel excited and nervous, because fantasies are one thing, but now, hopefully, this is about to become real.

God he is turning round!

"Hi, were you on the crowded bus?"

"Um yeah," I reply, with a smile. Here we go he knew I was on the bus; he's just teasing me, naughty man.

God think Sylvia think of something to say, "Did you hear that man going on at the driver; I think he had a point." I say, thinking this is it, this where we get a long and both end up late for work.

"Well I thought he shouldn't have really, the driver was only doing his job. The man should take it up with the bus company."

SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!

"Well I'm sure the driver will say something to his boss now," I offer.

He nods, "Yes, but did you notice how heavy the driver was with the brakes after that? I saw a few people being jostled, by the motion."

"Yes I got bumped a few times myself," I say willing him to think about it.

We've been served our coffee now and he holds the door open for me, which is so sweet.

"So you were stood up?"

There he is being coy and pretending he hadn't noticed me.

"Maybe tomorrow you and the others who had to stand up shouldn't get on the bus. Then you could all complain."

Is he fucking joking? "We all have to get to work."

"I'm just making a point that's all. What makes you any more special than me? Oh I get it."

"Get what?"

"I get it now, Lady. Why you've stood next to me a couple of times, nudging me, expecting me to get up and give you my seat, because I'm black."

"For heaven's sake I'm not racist. I like you, I mean I like black men, people, black people," I say, trying to stop this cringing feeling, as every word I use to try and correct the last, only makes things worse.

He mutters something and walks off, while I'm stood there wondering how I can get out of this hole I'm in.

Geoff.

Today there has been quite a bonus, getting right behind her on the bus. She's a fucking slut, she is. I watched the bumps on the back of her neck, when I breathed on her. It's like when that Vicky girl cuts my hair. I get those bumps on my neck, and a bump under the apron she puts on me to stop my hair going all over my clothes. Vicky cuts my hair, and I dream of doing things with her.

Sylvia though is my number one. I've been seeing her a few times now. Not seeing her, but like, watching her. She's always in such a bloody hurry that she never notices that I'm stalking her; well, I'm not really stalking her, am I? I'm just showing my apprehension, no not that word, appreciation that's it, my appreciation of her hot body.

That neck of hers was inviting, I managed to get real close. I like her black hair piled up on top of her head. I noticed those three little moles on her neck. Honestly I could so easily have run my tongue from the first, to the second, and then to third. I like that perfume too, not overpowering, but still intoxicating and sexy. The way strands of her hung down got to me too; I really wanted to pluck one of them out.

What attracts me to her is she's always got her nose in the air. That's right, although she likes displaying everything, for everyone to see, for me to enjoy, and for me to appreciate. I wonder what her cunt looks like. Bet it's all tight, like her tits, and wet, like her mouth.

But today, god that fucking neck of hers was inches from my lips. I could have slipped my hand round it and squeezed, so easily. I did manage to bump against her too, twice. I also got me some up skirt photos. I had to do up my shoe, I had to bend down, and well that was my excuse if anymore ratted on me. I've got some nice photos of her arse in her clear tights stretched across her powder blue knickers.

But the book really threw me. There it was in the top of her open bag, and fuck me, "50 shades of Grey." I don't read but I've seen the film. Why didn't he do more? Because he's a pretty boy, that's why. But Sylvia reading that sort of stuff, if you ask me leaving her bag open and leaving that book where Geoffrey Baker could see it, well, she's inviting it. She might be stuck up but they all are, those office sluts and fancy shop workers, but they like a sex book to read those stuck up bitches. They all need rough now and then, but Sylvia, she's fucking advertising it.

I did wonder if she cottoned on to me. I mean why else would she push her bag round like that knowing I'd be able to see her book. Then thrust her arse back in my groin. Bet she was searching for my cock. She was saying look Geoffrey, looks at what I'm reading, are you hard?

The slut can't help herself, running after cock she was, that black bloke, bit of pretty boy in his well fitted suit, and shiny shoes. Mum used to say, Geoff don't you ever trust a man with shiny shoes.

She followed him in the coffee shop. I managed to get a photo of her the slut, opening her blouse, begging for it. Anyway something happened, they chatted outside and I could see her face dropping. It makes me chuckle but I reckon she asked him out, and he told her he was gay.

She marched right past me, searching in her bag, head down, looking for something. Too busy to notice me she was. Still I got her lipstick if that's what she was looking for. I got a lot more than that; I got some of her knickers too, got them from her washing basket from the bathroom, that fucking tap was annoying the last time I went there, drip, drip, drip. I'll have to look out for the powder blue knickers, the ones she was wearing today.

Yeah she pushed her ass back at me the teasing bitch. She showed me the book to give me a few ideas. I'm way ahead of you there, Sylvia.

Sylvia.

I'm not put off by Adam showing little interest. He seems the dominant kind; he was just letting me know I have to try harder. Okay my black Adonis, I get you loud and clear. Tomorrow I'll go to his bus stop to get on. I know he gets on the bus the stop before mine. A few days ago I stayed on the bus, my mum lives on the same route and well, I thought what a good chance to see where he gets off.

I lay on my bed thinking about Adam and how dominant he probably is. He'll come in the department store one day. I'll shove the other girls out of the way, and I'll ask him what he wants. He'll say a kitchen towel roll holder.

I've truthfully been up and down the stairs all day to day at work, going from one department to the other because we are short staffed. I've served 4 men today, and each time I've had to walk up the stairs to get what they want. They followed me, like men do, not out of good manners, but in hope to catch a glimpse up my skirt. I could feel their eyes on my ass and legs. I get a real thrill out of it. Look on guys look on!

I like the way the 3¾ inch heels of my court shoes echoes on the wooden treads, clack, clack, clack. They sound out alerting everyone in the store. I like when I come down, my clacking heels turn heads. If I like the guy who looks, I'll smile, if I don't, I'll pretend I haven't seen him, either way I'll make up fantasies about them all fucking me.

So back to my fantasy about Adam, My legs are encased in chocolate coloured stockings, hold ups, with a nice wide lacy band at the top. Adam follows behind me several steps down. My tight little navy skirt is 5 inches off my knee, and the little back split gives Adam the occasional glimpse of my stocking tops, as my left leg goes up on a higher step and opens the split. I can feel my heart thumping away a little more than normal, and my face is red, so bloody red. I hurry along to the shelves.

"Wooden ones you said?" I ask.

"Yes, that is what I want," he replies, with a bored impatient look on his darling face.

They are up high on the shelf, and that has me panicking a little, but the first floor is deserted. I have to get the steps and climb up a little. I take a look at the wall mounted towel rails, which are at chest height.

"Are you sure you, you don't want the wall mounted sort, Sir?"

"I would have said that wouldn't I? Now get up the ladder and get what I have requested."

I swallow and nod a little, noting his dominant tone. So here I go, flashing everything to him again. I put my foot on the bottom step and climb to the next, and then the next. Adam is stood right behind me, close, real close. So close, I can feel his breath on the back of my thigh, my trembling thigh. I reach up higher for the box. I can feel all my leg muscles tighten. I daren't look over my shoulder, but I want to, I want to see him gazing at my legs, and up my skirt.

My skirt has stretched across my ass, and it has ridden up. I can just imagine him looking at my stocking tops through the parted vent in the back of my navy coloured skirt. He is so close to me, he will be able to see the fine delicate swirling patterns in the lace stocking tops. I reach further and grab a box. I'll be able to get down now, and hopefully my red face and my shaking will calm down.

"Not that one, the next one," he demands.

"Oh, I'll have to move the ladder," I pant.

"No, stretch across, and put your foot on that shelf. Come on I haven't got all day."

"I can't reach it, it's to far away," I mumble.

I look over my shoulder and down at him. He is just staring at me with those sexy brown eyes. His face is harsh and it frightens me. His eyes trail slowly down to my ass, and he moves a step back to look down at my trembling legs. I just want this over with so I stretch my foot slowly. I pull it back, I can't reach I just can't.

"Try again; I'm losing my patience with you."

I stick my foot out again. He grabs my ankle and I gasp. He directs my foot to the shelf, and I'm forced to shift my body weight. His hand stays on my ankle, I can feel all my leg muscles twitching and tightening up, I can feel it, and Adam can see it.

He can see my skirt has now gone right up, he can see the taut material stretched across my thighs, he can see the individual stitching holding the seam of my skirt together across my ass. He can see the way the vent in my skirt is now pulled wide open, and he can see my tiny purple and black panties. For a moment my fantasy stops as I try and remember the last time I saw my favourite purple and black panties. I curse myself and get back to my fantasy, making an alteration.