The Bus Ride

Disclaimer: This is not a truly erotic story, even though there is a little eroticism. This story may offend some people. Some people may wish for a happier ending--I think it has one. This story does not in any way diminish from the reality of abuse against women. I merely wish to highlight that men can also be victims of abuse and perhaps raise a little flag and wave it a bit.

Regarding depression. I probably have it wrong here. I apologise and I hope I haven't made light of it, or truly fucked it up. It's a serious problem for some people. I suffer from it but recognise it when it descends, and I keep it at bay. We probably all suffer from it in one way or another, just in varying degrees.

Lastly, there are shelters for women across North America. They need funding and assistance. Please consider donating.

I've edited the story since my original release to correct some minor issues. The same ending exists for those who read it before.

Sincerely,

Lana

I FIRST SAW her when she boarded the bus I was riding on. She got on a few stops from where I lived. She was in her mid-twenties, with long brown hair, wearing a lovely pant suit that hugged her and accented her voluptuous form. She really was stunning. She wasn't skinny. She was curvy with a beautiful ass and breasts that swelled from her chest and made me long to just touch them once. I gawked at her. She came up the stairs of the double-decker bus and her head was just below the low roof, meaning she was only about five and a half feet tall.

It was her ass that captivated me. It was round and perfect. I wanted my hands around them.

I tried not to stare but I did. She looked right at me and held my gaze for a moment. It seemed to me to be an awfully long moment. Her makeup was light and perfect. She smiled at me a little and I smiled shyly back, then she sat across from me and a little forward. She pulled out her phone and started tapping away at it. Her breasts were large enough she had to hold her phone out a little.

My God, she's stunning! I imagined her sitting next to me, talking with me. Laughing with me. Holding my hand. With a shock, I realised she reminded me of my late wife when she was younger.

I studied her as she sat across from me working her phone. I couldn't help but watch. Now that I saw the similarities, I was more than interested. She was texting, going from person to person. She was fast. I saw her frown and delete a contact. Then another one.

She changed apps and I saw her open a browser. She was quick but I saw her open an escort review site. I recognised the top banner because I was a member. My heart quickened. She flew through the menus, clearly familiar with it, and I saw her pause on the bulletin board. She was reading a review. I saw her smile and switch back to texting. She made a reply and went back to the review site. In a moment, I saw an escort add appear. I couldn't be sure, but I thought maybe it was hers. I strained to see her name and thought I saw it.

My hands shook a little, but I opened up a browser on my phone, searched for the name, added the word escort, and entered the information. In a moment, my search engine showed the top hits. I selected the top one and I was looking at her ad.

She was an escort. I saw a picture of her lounging on a bed in lingerie. Her face was obscured but it was her. I read what she offered, and my cock thickened. Full service, covered. She boasted about her oral skills. She was an in-call escort and priced at the normal rate for my city. She called herself Amber.

I spent the next ten minutes looking for reviews and found them quickly enough. She was highly rated and new to the business. Her clients bragged about her conversation skills and hinted at other skills.

I saw her phone number. Feeling bold, I entered it into my text app.

[Hi Amber. I found your listing and I have to admit to admiring your looks. I'm looking for someone to chat and laugh with. Then maybe more if the chemistry is right]

I hovered over the send button and then sent it.

I watched her. Her phoned pinged and she selected a message. She read it and then tapped a reply.

My phone vibrated. I looked down and saw her reply. [Hi sweety. Tell me about yourself]

[When are your hours?]

I saw her frown and she typed. [Sweety read my site] She included a link.

I tapped back. [sorry didn't know you had one. My bad. One moment]

[k] she replied. I watched her switch apps and do other things.

I entered her website and found a whole new world. She talked about herself. Her aspirations and goals. She was a student, she said. Loved meeting new people and promised our time together would be mind-blowing. All the typical stuff escorts said. I checked her schedule and saw she was free mostly on weekends, except for Wednesday nights. Today was Tuesday. I checked her rates and saw she offered GFE for an hour, two hours, or four. Then I read her disclaimer. She rarely added new clients. She talked about having to find a connection first. I was more than intrigued.

I texted back. [Sorry. Read your site. I'm Estcher]. I used my online persona.

[I'm Amber. What do you do?]

[Public servant here in town]

[Nice. Are you from here]

[Yes, my whole life]

[Are you married?]

[Widowed]

I saw her read my text and hold a hand to her mouth for a moment. [Im so sorry to hear that. What happened?]

[Cancer four years ago]

She read it and then looked out the window. I couldn't see her face. She sat there for a long time and didn't reply.

I felt I should say more. [It was bad, but that's in the past now. All alone and lonely, which is why I texted you]

I heard her phone ping, but she ignored it and continued to stare out the window. After a moment she read my text and replied. [You poor dear. How old are you?]

[Forty. You?]

She snorted. [Never ask a girl that]

[Pfft. You asked me. Your answer means you are either older than you look or younger than you pretend to be]

I could see her eyebrows raise. [Such cheek. Are you trying to make a good impression?]

[haha sorry. You look beautiful on your site]

[You enjoy the pics?]

[yeah. What male wouldn't]

[not many I guess. I had fun doing them]

[professional?]

[No good friend]

I didn't reply and watched her. She kept looking at her phone. She had left our chat up and was no longer flipping around. She frowned and tapped. [what are you looking for]

[honestly? Connection]

She smiled. [good answer]

[thanks?]

[connect how?]

[Just being in the present]

She snorted, and I smiled to myself. She shook her head and replied. [right]

[what you don't believe me?]

[not my experience]

[whats your experience?]

[Id rather not say]

[lol I don't blame you. This is nice btw]

[what is]

[just chatting. I know you probably hate guys just chatting but this is nice]

She looked out the window and didn't reply. After a moment she tapped away. [it is]

[you probably are busy I should leave you be]

I heard her make a noise. [done with me already?]

[what, no. I could chat all day. Im very chatty]

[good. And no im not busy]

[what you doing?]

[just sitting at home]

I looked over at her. She clearly wasn't.

[im heading to work. Would be nice to stay at home all day]

I could see her chewing her lower lip. [I lied im heading to work too]

[why lie?]

[I dunno. Made me sound cooler?]

[you sound pretty cool already. Where do u work?]

[downtown. Office]

[yeah me too]

[whats your day look like] she typed.

[boring]

[I hate work]

[at least you have the escort business]

She smiled. [true. I really enjoy it. Mild mannered office working by day -- vixen by night]

[Vixen? So you enjoy being an escort?]

I saw her squirm in her seat a little. She started to type and then deleted it. She looked out the window and then typed something. She held her finger over the send button and then pushed it.

[sometimes yes. With the right guy]

[were you going to say something else?]

She started in her seat, surprised. She frowned at her phone and then typed. [why would you ask that?]

[I dunno, sixth sense?]

[well its true. With the right guy it can be fun]

[what makes the right guy?]

[fishing for pointers?]

[no, just trying to understand you]

[I need to connect too. I enjoy my work. I can make men happy]

[what about your happiness]

I heard her draw a sharp breath. Her thumbs hovered over her phone. She tapped slowly, deleted a bit and typed again. [doesn't matter, does it]

[your wrong -- it absolutely does. Lifes too short for BS]

She smiled. [*you're]

[word nazi]

She laughed out loud and then looked around the bus, alarmed at her outbreak. [yup! Words are important]

[what would make you happy?]

[Netflix, popcorn, and someone to share it with who didn't want to just fuck me]

That floored me. As soon as she typed it, I wanted that too. With her. [sounds like a perfect date]

I could see her smile. [just need to find the right guy] she typed.

I knew what I wanted to say, but it would be meaningless. Scripted. Transparent. But I knew a large part of me wanted that. [maybe you just did]

She placed her hand between her breasts for a moment reading my text. She started to type and then deleted it. She put down her phone and looked out the window. She went back to her phone and I could see her adding me as a contact. She saved it and then went back to her routine. She surfed, texted, read reviews and all sorts of rapid actions. I went to her website and read the contents and admired her pictures. I found one of her on all fours, ass to the camera and exposing everything, except for a happy face emoji covering her rosebud. She was gorgeous. I looked from her pictures to her sitting across from me. I was captivated and excited.

I've been using escorts for two years now. My wife died from ovarian cancer four years ago. I still had our house, empty, for we never had children, thank goodness. She died young, too young. She was the love of my life and we did everything together. Planned vacations, trips down the valley, loved reading curled up together on the couch, holding hands in public and kissing every ten feet. She had been my soul mate and watching her waste away had been terrible. I missed her so much. After two years I still couldn't date. I didn't want to replace my wife, but two years of watching porn had me longing for physical contact. I joined a massage club and worked my way through most of the women. It was pleasant, but sterile. No connection, just contact, a quick shower and home. I quickly grew tired of it.

My appetite grew. I joined dating sites and quickly grew disgusted at the bots sending message after message. It was all fake, catering to the weakness in men, and pulling our strings and wallets. My needs grew and one day I found an escort on the other side of town. She promised all sorts of wonderful things. I searched for reviews, found her to be legit, and I met her for the first time.

It was better than the massages. She lived in a rundown apartment. She was about ten years younger than me, her body held together with a little exercise but not much else. I showered and came into the bedroom, where she lounged naked. It was clinical, despite her efforts to be lively and real. I ate her, she sucked my cock, she wrapped me, we fucked, she blew me, swallowed and I left.

I enjoyed it and hated it. I enjoyed that we did more than with the massage girls; with better physical mutual contact, but she was more interested in my money and pushing me out the door. Afterward, I panicked, and imagined all sorts of diseases and got tested at a private health care clinic. It was embarrassing, the question pointed, and I could feel judgement all around me, imagined or otherwise. The results came back clean. I saw the woman again.

She became my regular. Every time I hoped we could build a bond of sorts. But it was always the same routine. I tried to change it up, but she refused. I was frustrated and then stopped seeing her. She reached out once to me, asking where I went. I didn't reply and she never texted me again. I felt betrayed in a way. I had spent a lot of money on her and had nothing to show for it except for vague memories and a hatred for condoms. I learned you can't buy relationships.

I could see the road ahead of me. I would probably take more chances. Try an escort who offered more risky acts. I read those reviews, looked at their ads, jerked off and felt enough relief to avoid them. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I was horny all the time. I imagined all sorts of sexual adventures each getting wilder and wilder.

I probably needed professional help. I was addicted to sex. It was all I thought about. All day all the time. I wanted a woman like me, with the same hunger, but I knew that was a unicorn. I was trying to give up paying for sex. The ending of all this had no good ending that I could see.

I watched her for the remainder of the bus ride. She didn't text me back. I found myself wondering what her real name was. She never stopped texting others. I never realised the life of an escort was so focused on a phone. She must have a lot of clients to deal with. She had spent a lot of time texting me and I felt a little pride. I was someone she liked texting with.

The bus entered the downtown area. About two blocks from my building, she got up. She pulled out a building pass, a government issued one like mine, and descended the stairs. She looked at me again and found me looking at her. She smiled and I smiled back, my heart pounding in my chest. She got off the bus and walked into the building by the stop.

Huh, I thought. She does have a day job. That explains her hours. I wondered what would lead her to being an escort. I knew it wasn't about drugs and shit talk like that. It was often just for the money. A beautiful young woman could pull in a lot of fast cash with reasonable looks. Men are an industry. We crave sex all the time. Provided a woman could get past the emotion stress of seeing so many men, she could do well for herself. But it had to be a hard life.

I had enjoyed texting her, I admitted to myself. I felt a connection and realised it was probably just wishful thinking on my part. My stop came up and I exited the building. My workday was long, filled with thoughts of her crowding me. I was infatuated in a healthy way. I kept going back to her website on my phone and looking at her pictures. I saw them a little differently now. I had caught a glimpse of the real woman behind the façade. I realised I was more interested in who she was then who this escort named Amber was.

I arrived home and made a light dinner. I went outside to my deck and enjoyed a beer and a smoke. I read an eBook and saw the late hour and got changed for bed. I plugged in my phone and laid back and closed my eyes. My phone vibrated. I thought to ignore it, but curiosity won, and I picked it up and unlocked it. I had a message.

I tapped the icon and saw Amber had texted me. I sat up, excited.

[what u doing] she asked.

[lying in bed, about to sleep]

[oh, sorry, night]

[no no. im awake. Whats up]

[you probably want to sleep]

[not now. Would rather talk to you]

[okay]

[how was your day?] I asked.

[good. Work was boring. How was your day?]

[same same. I thought about you today]

[Rly? What were you thinking]

[how nice it was chatting with you]

[huh]

[what]

[not the answer I was expecting]

[what were you expecting?]

[something dirty]

[well I could have said that, it would be true, but not nice conversation]

[I dunno]

[what you want me to say I fantasized about you?]

[did you]

[yeah lol]

[good!]

I lay in bed and felt my cock harden. I enjoyed texting her. She truly excited me. I hadn't had any kind of conversation like this in forever. I decided to play it safe. I wanted to text her all the dirty things I fantasized doing with her but knew that would be a horrible mistake. [what are you doing?]

[lying in bed too. I have a client tomorrow]

[and?]

[I don't like him. Started off great but he is becoming demanding]

[oh. That's not good]

[no]

[what's he demanding?]

[the usual. Unsafe sex. I never do unsafe. Too risky]

[I see. What are you going to do about it?]

[tell him its over]

[Sounds good]

[my mom died of cancer]

I looked at the text. It came out of left field. I was surprised she shared that with me. [sorry to hear that. I feel your pain]

[Was it bad with your wife?]

[yeah. Really bad. Ovarian cancer. It had spread everywhere]

[wow same as my mom]

[its horrible. Cancer is a bitch]

The phone went silent. I watched for a reply and the minutes stretched. I was about to put it down when it vibrated. [You have a tv in your room?]

[yeah]

[me too. Wanna Netflix and chill with me lol]

I laughed out loud in my bedroom. [sure what you wanna watch?]

[Jessica Jones? Season 3 first episode?]

[Awesome choice. Hold on]

I powered my tv up and switched to Netflix. I had already watched the last season, but I didn't care. I loaded up the first episode of season 3. [okay all set. Say when]

[when]

I hit play. We texted back and forth to make sure we were synced. I lay back in bed and watched the episode. We exchanged texts discussing what was happening. She loved Jessica Jones and the strong female lead. It was a wonderful hour. Too soon the episode was over.

She texted me first. [that was really fun]

[it was]

[I would like to do that again]

[just say when]

[okay thank you]

[yw. Night Amber]

[my real name is Jessica]

[rly?]

[lol no. just ducking with you!]

[bitch lol]

[bastard]

[night amber pleasant dreams]

[you too -- what do I call you?]

[Luke Cage]

[lolol]

[Dave actually]

[okay night Dave]

[Night Amber]

[Maggie]

[Night Maggie]

[night]

I turned off my tv and rolled over and plugged my phone back in. I smiled against my pillow. After a moment I rolled onto my back. I pulled my pyjama bottoms down and grabbed my cock and thought about Maggie. I was done in seconds, wiped up with Kleenexes, and fell asleep feeling more content than I had in years.

* * *

The next day she didn't get on my bus. I felt profound sadness at that. I needed to see her again and for the first time wondered if perhaps I was stalking her.

I knew I wasn't. Well maybe just a little. But I was truly infatuated with her. I wanted to know her, not follow her around. I wanted to keep chatting. I enjoyed it immensely.

I checked my phone and my message app stayed clear. I was disappointed. I opened the Kindle app and read a Lit RPG novel. Halfway downtown my phone vibrated. I saw I had a message and opened it. I had a message from Maggie.

[omg I slept in! Missed my bus]

I felt relief and happiness flood me. [lazy bones]

[your fault! Shouldn't have stayed up late watching Netflix]

[My fault? Your idea. It was fun though]

[It was. I enjoyed that. Needed that. I felt we connected. Where are you?]

[on bus]

[which one?]

I answered her and then realised it was probably the same number as hers. I froze.

[omg that's the same as mine! Where's your bus now?]

I told her.

[Oh im behind you wow we could've been on the same bus!]

[wouldn't that weird you out?]

[no, I don't think so. Not like your a client]

[*you're]

[haha got me]

[you worried about tonight?]

[yeah]

[anyone that can help you?]

[no I'll be fine. Dealt with this BS before. Part of the job]

[huh. Seems dangerous]

[No not really. I enjoy my job with the more reasonable clients]

[Rly?]