Playing with Fire

"Okay... here goes. It was a few years ago, before I met you, and I'd spent the day in town with some friends and was now on my own, waiting for a bus home. I was on my phone and must have been really engrossed in what I was doing because I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to the bus I got onto when it pulled up at the stop.

"I climbed on board, showed my bus pass to the driver and wandered down towards the end of the bus and took a window seat. It was then I noticed the bus wasn't as full as it usually was.

"I thought nothing of it and I was so engrossed with my phone that I barely noticed people getting on and off. That was right up until a shadow loomed over me. I looked up to see a large man towering over me. As the bus pulled off and began to pick up speed so he started to sway from side to side.

"It was funny because there were lots of empty seats he could have sat in but he just stood there glaring down at me. I looked away hoping that he'd move on. But he didn't. And then he spoke to me.

"He said that he'd not seen me on this bus before and that was strange because he thought he knew every pretty young thing that used this route. He then plopped himself down in the seat next to me.

"I looked up from my phone and said that I'd never seen him on this bus before either. He was old and quite scruffy so I was sure I would have recognised him. But I remember thinking that whilst his clothes had seen better days they were at least clean.

"Anyway, I looked around. We seemed to be the only people still left on the bus and that made me nervous. And I also thought that was odd. So I glanced out of the window. I didn't recognise anything outside that we were passing either. And then panic hit me. I had to be on the wrong bus!

"It was at that moment he put his hand on my knee. I was scared stiff and just froze. I didn't know what to do. I looked down and realised that I was showing an awful lot of thigh as my skirt had ridden high up my legs when I'd sat down. At the time I'd thought nothing of it. But now I was aware of just how much of my bare thighs were on display.

I finally came to my senses and grabbed hold of his hand and lifted it away. I told him I didn't want him to touch me and to keep his hands to himself.

"He just said, 'I don't think so love' and put his hand back on my knee. Then he said I had lovely legs, that they were all shiny and smooth and how much he loved bare legs as he wasn't keen on nylons.

"I told him to get off me and tried to remove his hand. But he just squeezed my knee and kept a firm hold. I was starting to panic so I told him I would scream for help if he didn't take his hand off my leg. He just laughed at me and said I wouldn't because I wouldn't want to make a scene. He could tell it wasn't in my nature.

"And that's when he started to caress my leg. He slid his hand up and down my thigh, slowly going higher with every stroke. By now I was really scared and was scrabbling at his fingers, trying to prise them off my leg. But they were so fat I could barely get my hand around them.

"He then asked me what my name was. He was trying to distract me because he was still trying to get his hand up my skirt."

"So why didn't you just scream for help? Tell the bus driver what was happening to you? Anything?" Terry blurted out, interrupting my story.

"I know, I know. I should have done something. I knew I couldn't fight him off, he was too strong, too persistent. Yet I knew all I had to do was scream for help and that would put an end to it all. But for some reason I just couldn't do it. I guess I didn't want to draw attention to what was happening by making a scene. I know - stupid," I added when I saw the look on Terry's face.

"So what happened next?" he asked. I sensed he was aroused by the way his voice cracked.

"Well I told him my name was Vicky and he said his name was Bert. He then said I had great thighs because they were nice and meaty and smooth, just the way he liked them. For some reason I thanked him. I've no idea why."

I paused for a moment.

"So what happened next?" Terry asked eagerly. He was clearly turned on by my story.

I breathed deeply as I tried to calm myself. I could feel myself getting emotional. I continued.

"By now he had his hand nearly at the top of my legs. I had my hands pressed in between my thighs, holding my skirt down to stop him from going any further... you know... so that he couldn't get at my... well you know what! He then crudely asked me to make things a bit easier for him by spreading my legs.

"Of course I told him no, and told him to take his hands off me. And strangely he did. He then said, alright love, fair enough, I'm not going to force you."

"So was that it?" Terry asked, "I have to admit I'm wondering why this was so upsetting for you. I know I'm probably being a bit insensitive but I had been expecting that a bit more happened to you?"

"No that wasn't it all!" I reacted angrily. "I knew I should've taken the opportunity to get up and find another seat but my stomach was all knotted up and I just couldn't seem to summon up the energy to move away from this disgusting old man. I glanced up into his face to see that his eyes were now locked firmly on my breasts.

"Then he said, 'nice tits love, mind if I have a feel?' and before I could reply he just leaned over and made a grab for them. For some reason I let him have a good fondle before I jumped up and pushed his hands away. I told him to move so I could get out. But as I struggled to push past him he stuck a hand under my skirt and groped my bum. And when I went to slap his hand away he stuck his other hand up the front of my skirt and tried to finger my pussy.

"It was so degrading and I called him a pig and told him to get off me but he just laughed and told me that for a young lass I had a killer backside that was big and juicy, and I had lovely tits."

"Well he may have been old, but there was clearly nothing wrong with his eyesight or his touch," Terry quipped light-heartedly. "You have got a killer arse and your tits are great!"

I scowled at him. "Do want me to go on or not?"

He nodded his head.

"So anyway, I got away from him and went to the front of the bus and took a seat as near to the driver as I could. He asked me if old Bert was bothering me. I was so embarrassed. He obviously knew what had been going on. He then said not to worry about him, he's all talk and that he was harmless enough on the bus. But then he said that off the bus that was a different matter. He then told me to stay away from The Grape Escape at all costs. And then he laughed again.

"So I asked him what was The Grape Escape? He told me it used to be a trendy wine bar but was now more of a pub, but it was where Bert regularly drank. He then said he'd heard stories of things that went on there."

I stopped speaking again.

"So what happened then?" Terry asked. Again he seemed very eager for me to continue. He was obviously loving my story of degradation and embarrassment.

"Well that's pretty much it really. The bus pulled up at a stop and Bert got off but as he did he turned to me and said that I had a lovely body for one so young and if I ever wanted to show him a bit more then he was at The Grape Escape every night of the week and sometimes during the afternoon too."

"Wow, that's some story," Terry said. "So how do you feel about it now?"

"I honestly don't know Terry. Watching those video's has re-opened the memories. I'd forgotten all about Bert and the incident on the bus but I guess I hadn't really because it's all come flooding back."

I was so confused and sad so I went to sit next to Terry. I wanted him to comfort me. He took me into his arms and I cuddled against him, tilting my face up towards his. We kissed and the kiss deepened. His hands began to roam. He brushed against my breast and took it into his hand. He cupped it lightly and I felt the nipple hardening. He gave it a squeeze and then dropped his hand onto my leg. I couldn't help it, my legs parted as his hand slid easily up my thigh. It felt so good. And then he reached my pussy. I knew my panties were soaking wet and I moaned immediately, kissing him passionately as he rubbed his fingers along my slit.

The sex that followed was explosive and tiring but whilst Terry was soon asleep I found myself consumed by feelings that I didn't understand.

For one thing, I hadn't been completely honest with Terry about the incident on the bus. What actually happened was much, much worse. Burt groping my tits turned me on more than it should have. I didn't recognise that fact even when my legs began to spread, seemingly of their own free will. But he knew what was happening. His other hand dropped onto my legs and soon disappeared under my skirt. And me? I just sat there - immobile - letting him touch my panties. Even I could feel they were wet.

And when I stood up, it wasn't to get away from his wandering hands, it was to help him out. I widened my stance and clung onto the back of the seat in front of us as he squeezed and groped my bum before he turned his attention to my pussy. I could feel the roughness of his calloused fingers as he prodded and probed my pussy, finally moving my panties aside to push a digit inside. I nearly collapsed from the shock. It left me feeling so dirty, so violated, so aroused.

He frigged me for a lot longer than I realised. Even with the sickening disgust I felt for this violation of my body, a large part of me wanted it to continue. Eventually, and I don't know how, I managed to push past him and went to sit in another seat. Thankfully, Burt seemed happy enough with what he'd accomplished and didn't bother to follow.

It wasn't long after that we reached his stop. I think he spoke to me as he got off the bus but I have no idea what he said. I was sitting there in a daze, trying to comprehend just what the hell had occurred. Why was I aroused by what he'd subjected me to even though I'd been revolted by his actions? It was so confusing. Being young and naive I had no idea how that could be.

All I do know is that when I got home and found the house empty, I rushed to my bedroom to relive the nightmare as I fingered myself to the biggest orgasm I'd ever experienced since I'd become sexually aware. I felt sick to my stomach afterwards but it was an act I repeated on more than one occasion over the next few weeks, even embellishing the ordeal to the point where Burt fucked me, until much to my relief the memory slowly began to fade before eventually disappearing forever. Or so I'd thought.

But now? My reaction to the videos wasn't the way I was supposed to think about sex, was it? In my world a young woman was brought up to believe that she would marry a man of her own age and eventually

have his children. She certainly wouldn't harbour thoughts about

fucking a much older man just for the thrill of it.

Yet here I was, getting off on watching videos that excited me

beyond belief and even though I had told Terry in no uncertain

terms that I would never entertain doing anything remotely similar

in real life; now that I'd had time to think about it; maybe, just

maybe I might. But only for the thrill. And whilst that thought

scared me to death, inexplicably it made my panties sopping wet. But

at the end of the day it was a fantasy and that's how it should remain.

It was not one I would ever want to experience.

But now, to add to the problem, I was behaving badly in The Grape Escape. Talk about a coincidence, finding by pure bad luck the very bar that Bert had mentioned he drank in!

Had I been expecting, or indeed subconsciously hoping to see him there and because I hadn't, I was still acting out some repressed fantasy with this other old man that had groped me outside the ladies toilet? Phew - thank god Terry hadn't witnessed that!

But why was I worried about Terry seeing me being molested? Wasn't that what he wanted? Wasn't he the one that had been pushing to find out if I could actually live out my fantasy? And despite me saying no, was I actually already, willingly, starting to do so?

TERRY'S STORY

After Vicky's startling revelation about her incident on the bus it now made perfect sense as to why she had reacted to the videos the way she had. And maybe her dismissal of my suggestion that she might want to make the fantasy real was because she thought that wasn't the way she was supposed to think about sex.

Yet here she was, not only getting off on watching videos that clearly excited her, but also now starting to live out her fantasy in real life, despite the fact she'd told me she would never do anything like that.

And even though she'd revealed the details of what happened on that bus all those years ago, why was she still to come clean about her experiences in the bar? Were her actions there showing that she ultimately would give into these hidden desires? That it might arouse her enough to actually go through with it?

But there was now one big overriding problem. Whose fantasy was this now? Hers or mine? And at the end of the day, if judging by her actions in the bar she was already beginning to live out her fantasy, how far was she prepared to go, and did I actually want to witness it if she did go the whole way?

Now THERE was a dilemma that caused my stomach to tie itself up in knots!

* * * * * *

A few weeks went by before we went out again. It was just the two of us enjoying our time together with a simple pub meal and a few drinks although I certainly wasn't impressed with the choice of beers on offer. Due to this we didn't linger long after the meal, and Vicky soon expressed her disappointment at leaving so early.

"We're not going home yet are we?" she asked as we climbed into the car.

"Not if you don't want to," I replied. "I could do with a decent pint though because their beer was rubbish," I added with a grimace.

"So where do you want to go?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. I'll think of somewhere," I said, smiling as I started up the car. I'd had a sudden flash of stupid inspiration.

Ten minutes of driving later and I pulled into a car park opposite our destination. Vicky looked across the street and then looked at me.

"Really Terry... The Grape Escape... again?" she said with just a hint of irritation in her voice. She shook her head. "Why?"

"Why not? It's not bad inside. A bit retro but their beer is excellent. So much choice for a small bar. Besides, I thought you liked it here," I added pointedly with a smile. If she was embarrassed she didn't say anything, but her face coloured up a bit.

"Come on, we'll just stay for a couple and then we can go somewhere else if you want to."

I let Vicky go inside first and saw how she scanned the room as she entered. I assumed she was looking for her old man. She found us a free table and took her seat whilst I went to the bar. I could see her again nervously scan the room. It wasn't particularly busy but I noticed that once more, all of the clientèle were old men. It just seemed to be that kind of a bar. And they all seemed to be looking at her.

I watched as she crossed her legs and then self consciously began to tug at her skirt, trying vainly to pull the hem lower to cover up her shapely thighs. It was a losing battle. The skirt had been short to begin with so there wasn't a lot of fabric to play with.

She gave up and folding her arms beneath her breasts, which just served to highlight how large and luscious they were, she began to look nervously around the room again. I wasn't surprised to see all eyes were now firmly focused on her although the stares were now leers as I guessed the men were silently undressing her with their eyes. Even from where I was standing at the bar I could tell she was nervous and she seemed to be struggling to breathe.

I paid for the drinks and went to sit down with her. "Here you go Vicky," I said as I put her glass down in front of her. I took my seat and took a long pull from my pint of beer.

"Ahh - nectar of the gods," I exclaimed as I smacked my lips together. It was new to me, a good craft beer from a small brewery in Suffolk. At 4.5% abv it was perfection. Very tasty and not too strong.

Vicky slipped her arm through mine and snuggled closer and then put her hand on my leg, dangerously close to my crotch.

"You okay Vicky?" I asked, slightly nonplussed at my fiancée's open display of affection. She was normally much more reserved in public unless she had been drinking heavily. And tonight she'd hadn't. Not yet.

"Fine thanks," she mumbled in reply. She reached for her drink. As she took a sip I saw her look over the top of her glass and scan the room again. It appeared that no-one was looking her way now that I was sitting next to her because she visibly relaxed and began to chat away quite normally.

The beer was good and was slipping down my throat far too easily. I needed a refill so drained what was left and stood up. "Same again?" I said to Vicky, shaking my now empty pint glass in her direction.

"Yeah, why not," she replied, as she too drained her glass and handed it to me. When I got to the bar I placed my order and waited to be served. I turned around to look over to Vicky and could see that all eyes in the bar were firmly focused on her again.

I looked away when the guy behind the bar came up to serve me. As he started to pull on the pump he surprised me when he suddenly said, "I've seen you in here before." He paused, paying attention to the drawing of my pint before he added, "Your girlfriend's very pretty."

"Thank you?" I replied, a little bit nonplussed as to where that had come from.

"Yep, definitely eye candy," he added.

He continued to pull at the pump. Me, I was wondering what had led to this. I was sure he had more to say. And sure enough he did.

"Yep, the old fart's are just going to love it if you keep on bringing her in here, especially if she's going to wear her dresses THAT short."

I glanced over to where Vicky was seated. I could see his point, she was showing an awful lot of thigh.

"The horny old buggers do love the young ladies, so you're going to need your wits about you if they decide to take a keener interest," he added, with what looked like a smirk. He then smiled to himself, enjoying what was obviously a private joke at my expense.

He placed the pint in front of me. Watching it settle distracted me from what he'd just said. It looked cloudy and didn't appear to be clearing from the bottom of the glass as it should. I took a tentative sip. Yuk, it tasted disgusting and was definitely not right.

"I'm sorry I can't drink this, it's gone off."

He picked up my glass and held it up to the light, inspecting it closely before he put it back down and made a non committal grunt.

"Do you want another beer or are you happy to wait until I've changed the barrel?" he said, with just a hint of surliness, as if somehow it was my fault the beer had gone off and he now had go down into the cellar to change the barrel.

As he said that I caught some movement in my peripheral vision. The same old man from before was walking across the room towards Vicky. I glanced at her and the look on her face was priceless. She appeared horrified. He reached our table, stared at her and then dropped down heavily into the chair at the table next to ours.

I turned to the barman and told him I'd wait for him to change the barrel and then quickly turned my attention back to our table.

The old man sighed deeply, which I only just heard before he started talking to her. He had a soft voice but I was just close enough to be able to hear every word.

"Nice to see you again darling. But you've never told me your name," he wheezed.

"Sorry? What?" Vicky stammered in reply.