Chapter 2: Bus Ride

He organized us into groups of ten. Each group was required to push the bus half a mile. In true southern tradition and in violation of military code all the women were exempted. I figured it was because if he was directing the pushing of the bus, there was no one watching after Melanie. This was needed since before the bus broke down the guys had gotten bolder. They invaded what little bit of personal space she was maintaining. Thus all the girls were required to steer the bus for a quarter-mile. It looked close to non-sexist.

My group was first at the back end of the bus. The ten of us soon had the bus rolling on the mostly flat road. At the hilled sections, the next group of draftees was pressed into service. This pattern went on until the yellow vehicle was at a service station. The physical exertion and temperature had all of us stripping off our shirts. Everyone hoped for any breeze to blow across our sweat-covered bodies. I noticed that a couple of the guys were obvious steroid users, who spent hours in a gym lifting iron for little reason. A couple were fit and trim with well-defined chest and shoulders most likely from manual labor or moderate exercise plus a modest diet. The rest were either twenty or more pounds overweight with the body structure of an avid video gamer.”

The showing off for the girls on the bus began. Or should I say girl on the bus? Poses were struck mainly by the steroid types, despite they were among the most worn out from pushing the bus. The manual laborers and fit guys while tired were not as exhausted from the forced labor. Their posing more energetic and playful than the rest. And the rest of the crew while doing their best to show off looked like they were just happy to be breathing. I avoided the display of muscles knowing Megan had already seen the one body part that really counted.

Once the bus was operational again the Sergeant lined us up along the side of it. “You boys stink. I’m not riding for seven hours in a bus with snowflakes that reek like dog piss.” He turned to the service station attendant in the garage. He handed the Sergeant a fire hose. With the brass fixture in his hand, he nodded to the other attendant. The water was cold and stung as it hit me. The ones desperate to impress Melanie stood firm not flinching, letting the water turn their skin a different color, adding a pinkish hue. When ordered we all turned and faced the bus. The Sergeant then turned the spray onto our backsides. “The next time you momma’s boys are in the shower, use soap.”

Multiple draftees said something to the effect “Melanie can put the soap on me where ever she likes.” That earned us all a chance to stand out in the sun and drip dry. In the humidity, it was a long process but did little in way of drying soaking wet underwear. After a half-hour of once again standing in the sun, we were allowed back on the bus with the women. They were in their same spots as when the bus broke down. Yet, despite being out of the sun and in the bus with windows open, they were as damp as we were.

The sun and pushing of the bus had taken the machismo out of most of the guys. Two hours further down the road Megan and I were still joking about family and stupid things each of us had done with friends. One of the steroid users near the front of the bus said, “Damn man, I’m taking this shit off. I hate wet underwear.”

The reaction to him standing in the aisle starting to unbutton his pants was immediate and violent. Faster than I thought possible, the guy was on the floor, half-dazed with a foot on his throat. “Listen up snowflakes. The first swinging dick or pampered ass I see will look worse than this moron. Plus spend the first part of their stay with us in a six by six cage, I’ll personally build in the middle of the fucking base. It’ll have enough sun to roast a pig on a spit. I don’t give a shit how uncomfortable you are. We’re not here for your comfort. We’re here to learn how to kill people until their friends give the fuck up. Then kill a few more just to make sure they don’t change their minds. Am I clear?”

“Yes sir.” Came out loud and in unison despite not having set foot on the base yet.

Looking down at the example, “Get Up. Put your ass in that seat and shut your pie hole.” The muscular guy on the floor scrambled up getting in the seat as quickly as he could, not saying a word.

Megan chimed in, “Damn that could be you.”

“No, it couldn’t.” I corrected her. “I have a brain in my head. I’d never stand up and drop my drawers in the middle of people, who have no interest in seeing me sans pants.”

“He didn’t distinguish between interested and un-interested. And I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have been interested earlier.” She pointed out. “It is kind of a shame though, I’m betting those shorts and underwear are getting uncomfortable.”

“Thanks, I’d been able to not think about it. That is until you so kindly reminded me.” I shifted in the seat, the dampness on my ass getting annoying. “And he did say, he had to see the swinging dick. I’m pretty sure back here he isn’t going to see shit.”

“What about those two” she pointed at the two across the aisle. “Or those two.” She nodded to the seat in front of us. “Unless you like small cages and hot sun I’d keep those shorts where they are.”

The sun at the horizon came straight in, making shadows at the seat. The darkened area meant that no one in the light could see what went on at the seat level. “I’ll risk it, but please don’t say anything.”

“You have my word.” She promised.

As stealthily as I could my shorts and underwear were again below my knees. The vinyl on my butt felt better than the wet cotton fabric, I had been putting up with. The air on the wrinkled skin of my prick finished drying the last of the dampness from it. I parted my legs even more so the same convective drying would happen to my balls. I leaned my head against the back window closing my eyes enjoying the air on my groin despite the fact even with the sun going down, the air seemed as hot as ever. The only odd thing was Megan said nothing. She continued the silence as I rested.

I drifted in and out enjoying the twilight state and the breeze from the open windows on my cock, rustling the brown hair it was lying in. The curls of my prick’s hairy bed changed direction. I didn’t give it much notice until red curls of hair tickled my neck, followed by a head resting on my chest. Then the rest of Megan’s torso was pressed into mine. The arrangement was similar to making out on the pull-out dorm beds, which substituted as a couch when pushed in. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and let her curl up into me. When the nerve endings in the roots of my pubic hair finally got my attention, I looked down seeing lavender fingernails passing through it. She stopped each time before getting all the way to my dick. I let her continue playing with my hair; the knowledge of which started my dick stirring.

Before I even had a good start at getting hard, her fingers went to my circumcision band and she lightly pinched the wrinkly skin between them. She flopped my cock head back and forth rolling the skin tightly between her forefinger and thumb. My prick rapidly filling with blood at her touch I whispered to the top of her head. “What are you doing?”

“Something you can’t stop me from doing. If you don’t what to get caught with your pants down, literally.” She replied just as quietly. I knew she was right. I couldn’t object or even grab her hand for fear of any type of struggle catching the eye of one of the other passengers. She knew she had me over a barrel and was taking advantage of it. I was just glad the sun was almost fully below the horizon, adding a bit more secrecy.

The skin between her fingers was gradually pulled out from them, needed for my ever-growing cock. As the sun went down my dick went up from her light touch. Most of the flesh covering the meat pole became tight as my dick became granite. The head blew up, its solid structure below the spongy layer of the dark purplish helmet. My free and hard rod extended up past my t-shirt covered bellybutton, as she brushed the painted nail over its end. The feeling of her light scrapes over every square inch of my head made me need to groan out in pleasure. But, the sound would be a dead give-away. Her continued playing required my brain to split time between pleasure and self-control like had never been required before.

Strokes on my bulbous head became strokes along the sides and underneath what was now Megan’s play toy. Talking again into the top of her head I let her know, “You, my dear are an evil and wicked girl. You...” I had to pause as her newly spit wetted finger ran its course down my prick, before continuing, “ ... know that.”

“Yes, and I bet I could make you howl.” She not so much threatened but informed me. “A howl that’d give a coyote a run for its money.” Teasing she asked, “If I taste your eighth wonder will I find the ninth?”

“Oh please, no. You’re doing more than enough.” I let her know. I was fairly sure I could handle the light stroking and touching for hours without cumming. But her perfect puffy lips around my pole even for an instant was a guaranteed way for me to blow my load.

“More than enough to make you howl?” she asked. Her finger lingered around the cupped ridge going back and forth across it.

“Mmm,” I sighed, “That is so good but you aren’t going to get me howling with that.” I returned the favor using one finger. I put it on her knee, sliding it gradually up the inside of her thigh under her skirt. I moved it until hot damp lace indicated, I’d run out of thigh.

Megan jumped a little at the first touch of my finger on her panties. “Damn you are a perv aren’t you, You’ve taken my innocent investigation of this eighth wonder as an invitation to take it up a notch.” I took her comment as I should move my finger up her panties until I found the notch of her joining lips. She clamped her legs together leaving my finger rubbing circles on her lace panties at her clit. Her breath shallowed but she didn’t pull my hand from between her thighs. Instead, she put her finger in her mouth again wetting it before running the wetted digit up and down my hard rod.

“Oh girl, that is a gauntlet you should’ve kept in your hand,” I told her accepting what I considered a challenge. We’d see who could get who off first.

“I thought it was.” She smiled trying to wrap her hand around my cock. The earlier spit gave her soft gliding hand going over my cock head a faux pussy feel.

“I think this game needs a bit of a leveling of the playing field.” I hooked my finger under the panties and got my first real feel of her curly hair and full pussy lips. Prior to pulling downward on the blocking fabric, the back of my finger was coated in her warm secretion.

“Sure but it isn’t going to matter.” She boasted understanding what the game was and agreeing to play. She lifted her ass off the seat and spread her legs enough for the panties to skim down her legs. They were a small cuff about her ankles in no time.

No longer needed for undergarment removal, I put the coated finger to my lips. My nostrils got a whiff of her near-perfect musky scent, while I waited to be sure it was safe for it to disappear between my lips. God, I love the fragrance of pussy. At that moment, I was glad the windows were open dissipating her natural aroma. A quick scan of the bus let showed me no one was watching but Megan. I slowly slid the coated finger in for a glorious taste and extracted it at the same rate. After my initial taste of the lubricant, I wished we weren’t on the bus. So, I could drop to my knees and devour the savory flavored pussy for hours.

The next hour she brought me to the edge multiple times releasing streams of pre-cum dripping down my shaft. Each time the excretion started, she lubricated her strokes with the fluid; coating the area she was in contact with. Each time I got close to cumming, she shifted her touch from my hard cock to the soft hairy skin of my nut sack. Until I lost part of my full staff stature. She deviously smiled at me each time she moved back to my dick, teasing me to granite hardness, saying, “Oops you didn’t cum. I guess I have to start again.”

Megan wasn’t the only one talking smack. I, too, teased her pussy. The short soft curls covering her puffy lips encircled my digits as I explored her cunt. Her pussy wasn’t virgin, but the high school boy dicks that had probably been in her a couple of times must have been of little girth. She was still very tight. My finger passed into the wet plush velvet canal widening it as it entered. The velour-like walls molded to my finger and sucked it in as I moved it within her. She caught her breath when I backed the impaling finger out. Just to sigh, as it returned into her cavity. I plied my thumb to the hard numb above my fingers’ play area, mashing it as I made circles atop it. I’d pull them away when her walls started twitching or her thighs flapping began in earnest. I teased back, “Oh, did I stop too early. Umm ... sorry you didn’t orgasm. Let me start again.”

We had each other in a tizzy. The stimulation time shortened, while the time between them lengthened. The bus was mostly dark inside as we drove through the moonless night. She’d decided she’d had enough quietly panting, “Oh please sweet Jesus, you win just make me cum. I m going to lose it otherwise.”

“Oh thank God,” I said her hand wrapped as far around as it could get stroking me at a frenetic rate. But, she kept the slapping of her hand against my pelvis to a minimum. The lack of attention, to what we were doing, was still due to Melanie and her exhausted-sounding quips with the pack of horny guys. As I got closer and closer to cuming, so did Megan. Her breathing was ragged and shallow. Her hips thrust forward discretely while I finger fucked her faster and faster. I could only hope the road noise was covering up, the squishing sound her gushing pussy was making. I could feel my balls rising off the vinyl seat prepared to deliver my semen in jets that would’ve coated the occupants three seats ahead of me.

I whispered in her ear, “Oh fuck, I’m going to cum. Squeeze hard so I don’t spray the whole bus.” I’d used the cum cut-off method in the past preventing the distance spurting when I beat off. What I didn’t know was how well the ventilation of the open windows would do at getting rid of the chlorine smell of cum. Once it was splattered or dripped all over the back seat.

As luck would have it, she said, “Oh. I gotta have you cum in me. I love the feeling of cum squirting in my pussy. It is so wicked ... Gawd, I want to feel you cum.” While I had fucked a couple of girls before graduating high school and more in college, it had always been a struggle to get my dick in them. And most had said not to cum in them before we had sex. Only after we started fucking did they say to cum in their cunts.