Kayla has been squirming in her seat for months. Every day the gentle hum of the engine pulses between her thighs as she sits in the back of the bus waiting for the hard male body to board. Today must be her lucky day. He decides to squeeze himself in the backseat beside her. It is the perfect opportunity for her to make her move. After months of empty orgasms, Kayla is finally ready to put her money where her fantasies are.
*Short Story (under 3,000 words)
She heard the clatter of someone’s bag against the seats then something knocked her feet.
She melted at the sound of his voice, a smooth baritone. It twisted her stomach in excitement. Even with her eyes closed she could feel his stare, feel the pull of his presence as he hovered above her.
She let her eyes flutter open. He had taken his seat at the opposite end. His oversized equipment bag lay between them.
He had facial hair today; his strong jaw adorned with a thin layer of stubble. His plump, pink lips seemed perfect for taking between her teeth, and his eyes were the most exquisite green. She watched as he removed his red warm-up jacket, and noticed the outline of his chiseled torso nestled underneath a white body shirt, the black Under Armour symbol visible along the sleeve.
He looked over and smiled. Perfect white teeth and a sexy curve of his lip smacked her right in the chest. It tingled through her body then settled in the deep, now wet folds between her legs.
“I’m sorry again. There isn’t much space to maneuver a bag this big.” He patted his large, manly hand on the top of the bag.
She turned her body around, the proper way, facing the front of the bus. “That’s okay.”
She returned his smile. He nodded in acknowledgment, then looked away, watching the traffic pass by, as his hair sparkled in the sunlight.
The silence between them didn’t last long. “I can move my bag so you can put your feet back up.”
He watched her so intensely. She had to look away but she could still feel it, his gaze zeroing in on her. It took everything she had not to turn her head and stare back.
In her peripheral vision, she saw him stand up, grab the bag and squeeze it into the narrow space at the side of the bus. Then he plopped down in the middle of the bench.
A waft of his scent surrounded her, sweat and spicy cinnamon, stirring her desire. Her nipples immediately hardened with arousal. She pulled the sweater off her body, in an attempt to tamp down her rising temperature. As she removed the second sleeve, she glanced at him, her eyes automatically drawn to the bulge in his jeans. She inhaled sharp and quick when she reached his eyes. He stared at her distended nipples as they pierced the thin fabric of her black v-neck shirt.
He had made the first move. This was her fantasy. Her boldness knew no bounds.
She grinned seductively when his eyes finally moved up her body. “I’m feeling… hot.”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple juggling against his skin. “Do you mind if I put my feet back up?”
“Sure. I’ll move.”
“No, no. You don’t have to move.”
She swivelled toward him and sat against the side of the bus, the steel window frame hard against her back. She picked up her feet, pulling her legs in toward her chest, then slowly inched down the hem of her charcoal grey skirt. She lowered her right leg to the side and rested her left against the back seat, exposing her aching pussy. “There’s room for both of us. Don’t you agree?”
His breath quickened. His eyes darted from between her thighs to the rest of the bus as he tried to gauge the setting. The rest of the passengers were quiet, either asleep or drowning in the music flowing from their iPods. Finally, he gave in.
One side of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He swiveled in toward her. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“There is, actually.” Without thinking, her hands made their way to her thighs inching the hem of her skirt further up with every gentle stroke. “Would you say you were the kind of man who can get things done?
He swallowed hard. “Yes.”
His eyes danced. Lust licking the rim like emerald flames. “I have been looking for the right man to help me with a certain… task.”
Her right hand found the soft satin that covered her sex and began a slow glide along her seam.
“What kind of task?” He watched her intently, licking his lips, his hands clenching as they rested on his legs.
Kayla’s own soft strokes had her aching, her skimpy undergarment soaked in her thick cream. Her finger hooked the fabric and pulled it aside, exposing her swollen lips. She could smell her desire; it hung in the air, sweet and musky.
She gave in to her lust and plunged a finger into her slit then coated her pink, swollen flesh. She circled her tiny nub, coaxing it from behind its hood as she made her request. “I want to come.”