Strange Ride on the Bus

The air is unbearably hot and stale in the bus, and I lean my arm against the window, glad I've got a seat whilst people are fighting for room to stand. We stop, an old lady leaves the seat beside me and before I can even blink, the seat is occupied again. I pay no attention to my fellow traveller, instead looking out of the window and dreaming about the coolness of tap water at home, only another forty minutes' ride away.

I'm glad I feel most comfortable in dresses, 'cause I couldn't bear even the thought of leaving home in jeans on a day as hot as this. My light green dress reaches my knees, quite an acceptable length to wear without pantyhose in the summer. The bodice is the risqué part, if I don't want all the straps showing, I have to forego wearing a bra. It's fine though, it's summertime and the front of the dress is concealing enough. I just feel a tad exposed when I think about it.

The warmth is getting to be a little bit too much for me now; I don't want to start sweating. Luckily, it's now that I notice that the upper part of the bus window can be opened, and as soon as that thought takes form in my head, I reach out to yank at the handle. The window is tightly shut and I want to curse under my breath, since even this little exercise is making me feel warmer.

Suddenly an arm shoots up to the window from beside me. "Here, let me do that," the man sitting next to me offers, and with a firm yank opens the blasted window, letting wonderful wind brush against my face.

"Thank you," I beam at him before settling back into my seat. He leans back, too, only his hand, which only a moment ago seemed to belong to my knight in shining armour, lands on my knee.

"What's your name, love?"

I stare at him, finally registering his features as I consider answering. He has a rather dashing look about him, in a sort of roguish way. He's older than me, at least ten years older, though I'm never good at guessing people's age. His hair and eyes are warm chestnut brown and he's smiling, as if he thought such physical contact was part of normal human interaction. I tell him that my name is Brianna, expecting that somehow adding a name to a face would make him realize the peculiar placement of his hand.

No such luck. My eyes widen when he starts slowly and nonchalantly caressing my thigh, moving the fabric of my dress under his hand, tugging it upwards. I quickly reach down to push his hand away or at least stop its movements, but he continues undeterred, just pressing down harder when I try to pull his hand away.

"Would you stop that!" I whisper, annoyed, but his smile won't falter. His hand lands on the bare skin of my thigh, and I am momentarily struck by envy when I notice his skin is cooler than mine.

"Don't make a fuss over nothing, little one," he replies, chuckling lightly. It's sickening how innocent he sounds, making me cringe at what he calls me. "I only want to make us both feel good. Isn't this heat terrible? Let me relax you a little."

He's talking slowly, tantalizingly, and I disappoint myself by listening without interruption, though not necessarily believing him. While he talks, his damned hand moves up my thigh, and his fingers brush against my panties. Instinctively, I press my legs together, resisting his approach. It suddenly dawns on me that we are in public and that anyone could see how he's touching me. I look around in panic mixed with hope, but all I see is people's backs.

"Don't worry, love," the man sitting next to me says soothingly, tapping against my panties. "No one will notice a thing. We're way at the back of the bus, and it's quite safe here."

I gasp quietly when I feel his hand slip into my panties and his middle finger immediately presses down on my clit. I grab his arm, shaking my head desperately at him. "Get off me," I whisper frantically. Never mind his touch, the man's convinced smile is what makes me even more uncomfortable. He winks and presses down on my pussy, his fingers sliding insistently between my pussy lips. Okay, I take it back, the touch is worse! "Please! I don't want this."

His caresses gradually turn to determined rubbing, and my stomach churns with embarrassment when I can feel his movements getting easier. I'm getting very, very wet.

"You're lovely when you blush," he whispers, leaning close to me, and I squeeze my eyes shut to block his face from my view. That, and to try and regain control over my body's reaction to his assault. "No need to fret, darling." Seriously, why did he even ask my name if he was going to call me that!

His middle finger presses against my hole, making me shake my head again, whispering, "No, no, no..." I'm trying to keep my legs firmly pressed together, but his hand is already where he wants it.

With slow determination, he pushes his finger into me, whispering warmly, "Let it happen. Enjoy it, little girl. Let me make you feel good." A violent shiver of unwanted pleasure runs through my body when he reaches inside me, struggling against my tight resisting pussy and building his strokes into a tauntingly slow pace. "You want to enjoy this. You want me to go on."

His finger moves with attentiveness that is almost kind, with each stroke pressing a little deeper, exploring his prize. I focus on the waves of warm ecstasy that travel through my unwilling body, and I feel ashamed and weak. A second finger joins the first, and immediately a third, and his thrusts start to hurt. I let out an uncomfortable whimper, trying to wiggle away from his touch.

"That's right," he says hungrily, his breathing heavier than before. He slides closer to me; his body presses against mine, trapping me between the window and him. His hand is picking up pace, rocking my lower body, stretching my little pussy painfully as he thrusts his fingers into my hole. I whimper weakly, unhappily, and his breath brushes against my face when he says, "Look at me, Brianna."

I open my eyes, suddenly aware of tears in the corners of my eyes. His face is awfully close to mine now, and I feel frightened of the greedy lustful glint in his eyes as he licks his lips. The awful reality of the scandalous scene hits me again as I stare at this complete stranger's face while his hand pounds into my young pussy. I become aware of the quiet wet sounds coming from down there. I steal a glance down at my pussy and almost cry out as at the same time he presses his thumb masterfully on my clit.

My body starts to shiver with new unfamiliar but amazing waves of pleasure, and I feel something quickly building up inside me, waiting to be released with unbearable urgency. What would have been a moan is muffled by the stranger's lips when my orgasm fully hits. He kisses me hungrily, his unrelenting hand pounding me throughout my ecstasy, making the pleasure harder to grasp but all the more sweeter with each thrilling thrust.

He slows down gradually, his thumb still massaging my clit, sending jolts of pleasure up my body, and I become fully aware of his possessive mouth on mine, his tongue exploring my mouth. Unable to do much else, I let him kiss me as thoroughly as he wants to, at the same time giving my body time to calm down a little from the hot ordeal.

It's all registering with me now. I let a complete stranger finger me on the bus, in public, until I came. It feels ludicrous and somewhat disgusting to think about, and yet here I am, sitting in a near puddle of my own juices.

"Excuse me, young man." The both of us jump at the gentle old voice, and my stranger looks behind him. There's a little old lady there, squinting at us, or maybe only at him, I can't tell. "Is this seat taken?"

He only takes a second to make up his mind, and that's what surprises me so much that for the next few moments I am unable to react to what is happening around me. "Of course not, love," the man next to me says in the kind voice he used with me at first. He grabs me by the hips, raising me to my feet, manoeuvring himself to my seat, and pulls me back onto his lap. From the lady's movements as she turns and takes the seat just recently occupied by my assaulter I can tell she can see little to nothing at all. She must be thinking she's only sitting next to a man.

What I first thought was hesitation before he pulled me into his lap turns out to be quite something else when I do sit, and feel the enormous bulge of his erection against my bum. He has unzipped his pants. I try to wrestle with his hands when he reaches between us and covers his entire lap with the skirt of my dress. In its protective privacy he shifts my position a little and easily pulls out his member.

I gasp when I feel its heat against my skin. It's standing up, stroking against my bum with each little move the bus makes. His hands go to my hips to push my panties over my ass and down my thighs; he's taking his time, enjoying the tension building in my scared and confused body.

I turn to look over my shoulder at him, and shudder at the lecherous look he gives me. "Please stop," I say quietly, my voice trebling. He slides a hand over to my pussy, rubs my clit with determined pressure for a moment, and then pulls me closer to him. "Please don't do this. You can't do this. Not... here."

His other hand is guiding his cock underneath me, and now I can feel its impressive and terrifying size. He positions the huge head of his rock hard member against my still completely wet entrance. With a last frightened surge of strength I try to stand up to get away from him, but he immediately wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me back. His cock pokes at my hole, making me let out a tiny squeak of protest.

"You want this as much as I do," his tantalizing voice whispers against my ear as he pulls me in, forcing his huge cock into my tiny unwilling pussy. My breath catches in my throat with the pain and shock of this horribly arousing experience, my body tenses up, making it even harder for him to move inside me.

His thick cock has difficulty sliding into me, so he starts rocking me on his lap, his hips thrusting up, driving his manhood gradually deeper and deeper into my pussy. "Damn it, Brianna," my stranger grunts quietly into my ear, pushing painfully deep into my inexperienced dripping hole. "You're so good and tight."

By now the bus has reached a part in its route with quite unpleasant road conditions and the entire bus is rocking somewhat, so our movements, shockingly, don't stand out too much. A thought passes fleetingly through my mind what would happen if someone saw what we were doing, or worse, what if it was someone I knew. My body's reaction is a disgusting new rush of tingling excitement, and I bite my lip hard to hold back a moan.

The man fucking me is holding me in place with one arm wound tightly around me. His other hand slides up my side and--curse this deceiving bodice!--slides into my dress from under my arm, cupping my left breast. He starts fondling my breast, masterfully pinching and rubbing my nipple, making me weak with pleasure.

Panting, I lean back against his masculine body, worn out, and yet my body is on fire. I am completely at his mercy as he makes me ride his enormous cock in public. Through my muddled mind it occurs to me that he can't be using protection. I am being fucked raw by a complete stranger, who has turned me on so much that I can't even resist him any more!

The man underneath and inside me gropes my breast harder as his thrusts grow rougher and deeper. My body gives a pained and also thrilled jolt with each assault, and my abused pussy tightens around his massive cock, urging him closer to his release. Unable to stop myself, I reach down under my dress and start rubbing my clit passionately, desperately. I can't help but surrender to the primal euphoria he has forced me into.

It takes another breathtaking moment of effort and a brutal thrust from my stranger for me to reach my overwhelming orgasm. I can't stop the quiet immensely relieved, "Oh, yes..." from escaping my lips as I cum on him. And that's what brings on his culmination.

With a low animalistic grunt he pounds his massive cock fully into my throbbing pussy and stills as he shoots a huge load of his hot cum into my young body. Through my own crippling orgasm I can feel it filling me up, making me feel both accomplished and dirty. He doesn't move for a long moment, so I sit there with his manly semen and impressive cock inside my used pussy, at the same time trying to memorize everything about this experience and to forget the unexpected and forced ecstasy he made me feel.

His arms drag me even closer to him and I realize he's hugging me. I let it happen, like I let everything else happen, and although I feel like a whore, a tiny piece of me wants to believe he appreciates me. Soon he pulls out of me and even helps pull my panties back up. In a couple of minutes I'm sitting on his lap with clothes between us again, although everything is still soaked underneath my dress.

Both of his hands are fondling my breasts now, possessively, proudly. He makes my breath catch with some pinches; his breath is hot on my neck.

"What's your name?"

He chuckles against my neck, places a kiss there and says, "I'll tell you next time."

When my stop comes up, he lets me go without a fight. By then the old lady next to us has already left and the bus is half-empty. I look back at him through the window; he's watching me, too. I try to imagine what I must have looked like there on his lap, taking his pounding. I look after the bus as it leaves the stop, knowing all too well that I take this bus almost every day.