Rain on the Late Bus
Copyright© 2025 by Dilbert Jazz
Chapter 2: Inside
Romance Sex Story: Chapter 2: Inside - On a stormy December night in 2025, plus-size women Debra and Susan lock eyes on a late-night bus, their mutual attraction igniting instantly. A simple invitation to wait out the rain leads to explosive, explicit passion—raw, affirming sex celebrating their abundant bodies. Over a transformative weekend and the year that follows, desire deepens into profound love, proving that taking up space together is the most beautiful thing of all.
Caution: This Romance Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Fiction Workplace FemaleDom Light Bond Spanking Analingus Fisting Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Sex Toys Squirting BBW Big Breasts Public Sex Size Slow Illustrated AI Generated
The two blocks to Susan’s building were a slow, exquisite torment.
Susan held the umbrella high enough for both of them, but it forced their bodies together—shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip—with every step along the slick sidewalk. Rain hammered the nylon above their heads in a steady, intimate roar, drowning out the distant swish of tires and the low hum of the city. Each time Susan shifted to avoid a puddle, her upper arm brushed the swollen side of Debra’s breast, sending sparks through damp fabric straight to her nipple. Debra’s thigh grazed the seam of Susan’s soaked jeans, feeling the heat of powerful muscle beneath.
Cold droplets still slipped past the umbrella’s edge—sliding icy trails down the back of Debra’s neck, between her shoulder blades, under the collar of her dress to pool at the lace edge of her bra. Yet where their bodies touched, heat bloomed fierce and immediate. Susan’s breath, warm and faintly coffee-scented, ghosted across Debra’s ear whenever she murmured “watch the curb” or “almost there.” Debra could smell her: wet cotton, a trace of cedar cologne, the deeper, unmistakable note of warm skin and rising arousal.
By the time they reached the brick building’s entrance, both women were breathing harder than the short walk warranted.
Inside the dim hallway, the sudden quiet was deafening. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing out the rain’s roar and leaving only the soft drip of water from their clothes onto the mat, the low hum of the radiator somewhere deeper in the building, and the wet sound of their breathing.
Third floor. Narrow stairs. They climbed single file, Susan leading. Debra watched the play of wet denim over Susan’s wide ass—fabric clinging so tightly she could see the faint outline of underwear beneath, the subtle shift and bounce of generous flesh with each step. Halfway up, Susan glanced back. Their eyes locked. Water dripped from her short auburn hair onto her lashes; she blinked it away slowly, lips parting as if to speak, but said nothing. The air between them felt thick enough to taste.
At the apartment door, Susan’s fingers trembled—just slightly—while working the Key. Debra stood close enough to feel the heat radiating off her back, close enough that when Susan finally pushed the door open and stepped aside, Debra’s breast brushed the length of Susan’s upper arm as she passed. A deliberate accident. Neither acknowledged it aloud, but Susan’s sharp inhale was answer enough.
Inside, the door shut with a soft, definitive thud.
Warm air enveloped them immediately—thick with sandalwood from a low-burning candle and the faint sweetness of vanilla. The radiator clanked softly under the window, pumping out dry heat that turned the dampness on their skin to steam. Rain streaked the large windows in silvery trails, blurring the city lights into soft halos.
Susan hung her jacket slowly, deliberately. The motion stretched her translucent shirt across her back; Debra could see the faint shadow of her bra strap cutting into soft flesh, the subtle dimples at the base of her spine above the waistband of her jeans. When Susan turned, the front view stole Debra’s breath entirely: white cotton gone completely see-through, clinging to the heavy underswell of her breasts, dark areolas visible in perfect circles, thick nipples straining visibly against the chill and something far hotter.
“You’re soaked through,” Susan said, voice low, roughened by cold and want. The words vibrated in the quiet room.
She disappeared down the short hallway. Debra stood dripping, heart pounding so hard she felt it in her throat, in her clit. Every inch of skin prickled—half from cold, half from the sudden thick awareness of being alone with this woman who had looked at her on the bus like she wanted to devour her whole.
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