I dashed to the bus stop, my short pleated skirt flipping up with every step, exposing the bare cheeks of my spankable ass to the morning breeze. No time for panties or bra after oversleeping, Mom was still snoring away. My canary yellow camisole hugged my large tits tight, the thin fabric rubbing against my hard nipples as they bounced. I was already soaked thinking about Mr Baldy in math class, how he’d eye my shaved pussy when I flashed him front row for extra credit.

At 18, I couldn’t help being this horny slut, always teasing in skimpy clothes that screamed ‘fuck me.’ The bus pulled up empty except for a chatty old lady up front with the driver. I slid into the back corner by the window, popping gum and scrolling my phone, thighs slick from my dripping pussy.

A few blocks later, the doors hissed open again. This tall, muscular guy in his late 60s climbed on, gray hair shaved close on the sides, wearing a faded t-shirt that stretched over his buff chest and loose shorts. His deep voice rumbled as he paid the driver, something about the weather. For an old guy, he looked surprisingly ripped, like he lifted weights instead of just jerking off to porn all day to younger women.

The bus was still deserted back here, plenty of seats, but he headed straight for me and plopped down right next to my side, his thick thigh pressing against mine. I rolled my eyes, annoyed, and ignored him, but I snuck a glance. His eyes were locked on my jiggling tits, the camisole doing nothing to hide how they strained the fabric with every bump in the road. Summer had made them even bigger, and yeah, it turned me on knowing this grandpa type was ogling a teen like me.

Boredom hit quick, and with all the porn I’d been rubbing my clit to lately, impulse took over. I yawned big, stretching my arms up so my tits thrust out, bouncing with the bus’s sway. Around a sharp corner, I let my body sway into the old man, my arm brushing his, pretending I was glued to my phone. He cleared his throat, shifted closer, and I caught the outline of his cock twitching in those shorts.

Giggling inside, I opened my album of dick pics, guys from school, random hookups, even some ones I got off the internet, flipping through them slow, the screen glowed bright enough for him to peek if he leaned in. Fat cocks, veiny ones, circumcised and uncircumcised, cum shots, and so on. I bit my lip, feeling my pussy clench, juices trickling down my inner thighs.

He went dead still, breath heavy now. I figured he was the creep sitting so close to what looked like an underage slut in her tiny skirt and backpack, probably thinking I was jailbait. But then he yawned too, casual as hell, and draped his big, strong arm around my shoulders. His hand landed firm on my arm, warm skin rough from years of whatever made him so buff.

I whipped around to snap at him—’What the fuck, old man?’—but he just smiled smug, that predator glint in his eyes, and nodded down toward his lap.

Shocked, I followed his gaze. Holy shit. Through the thin shorts, the fattest, longest boner was uncoiling like a beast waking up. The veiny tip poked right out the bottom leg hole, thick and purple, no underwear to hide it.

Bigger than any dick pic on my screen, and he wasn’t even trying to hide the strain. My heart slammed in my chest, mouth dropping open. He licked his lips slow, nodded again, expectant. I froze, pulse racing, the old lady’s chatter up front a distant hum. This stranger was forcing the situation, his dominant vibe screaming he owned the moment.

He didn’t wait for my okay. He grabbed my free hand in his powerful grip and slammed it straight onto that massive bulge. “Feel that, girl?” he murmured low, voice like gravel, his breath hot on my ear.

His cock throbbed under my palm, swelling even harder, the heat pulsing through the fabric like it wanted to burst free. I trembled, staring out the window at blurring houses, anger bubbling up, scared he’d crush my wrist if I pulled away, but fuck, my body betrayed me. So turned on, pussy clenching empty, soaking the seat beneath my bare ass. The age gap hit me hard; this old perv was treating me like his teen toy on a public bus, where anyone could glance back.

Tentatively, I tightened my fingers around the shaft, feeling every thick ridge, the veins jumping as it grew.

“Good girl,” he rumbled, stroking my arm with his free hand, his touch controlling, like he could snap me in half but chose to guide instead.

I felt the fear of getting caught, the thrill of his non-stop stare earlier turning into this forced grope, my impulsive teasing backfiring into something raw. I squeezed harder, palm sliding up to the tip leaking pre-cum, wetting the shorts. His smug smile widened, arm pulling me closer so my tits pressed against his side.

“You like that big old cock, don’t you? Been flashing those dick pics to tempt me.”

I whimpered soft, not pulling away, my thumb circling the head through the fabric, heart pounding wild. The bus jolted, and his dick jerked in my grip, making me gasp. Juices dripped from my shaved pussy, thighs slick and sticky. He chuckled deep, hand sliding down my arm to my wrist, forcing my strokes firmer, faster.

I imagined the driver spotting us in the mirror, or that old lady turning around to see this buff grandpa making a horny 18-year-old slut jerk him off publicly.

“Keep going,” he commanded, voice husky, his free hand inching toward my skirt hem, fingers brushing my bare thigh.

I bit my lip. I was feeling part rage at the old man’s control, part desperate need to feel that monster stretch me open right here, the forbidden rush building as the bus rumbled on.

His arm tightened around my shoulders, yanking me flush against his solid chest, the scent of his musky sweat mixing with the faint leather of the bus seats. I felt his cock throbbing harder under my fingers, the veiny length straining the shorts like it was alive, pulsing with every beat of his heart. Heat rushed through me, a flush creeping up my neck as his body heat seeped into mine, making my skin prickle.

“That’s it, little slut,” he growled low, his breath hot and ragged against my cheek.

My short skirt rode up from the shift, the pleats bunching at my hips, leaving my bare pussy fully exposed to the cool air rushing past the window. No panties to shield me, just my shaved pussy lips, slick and swollen, brushing against the rough fabric of the old man’ shorts as he pressed his thigh between mine.

I gasped, my heart hammering so loud I swore the old lady up front could hear it over her chatter. His free hand didn’t hesitate, sliding beneath the hem of my skirt with rough confidence, calloused fingers grazing the inside of my thigh before cupping my soaked mound. The touch was electric, sending a jolt straight to my core, my pussy clenching around nothing as his palm ground against my clit.

“Fuck, you’re dripping for this old cock already,” he whispered, voice rough like sandpaper, his lips brushing my earlobe.

I shivered hard, a mix of fear and filthy want twisting in my gut, this buff grandpa in his 60s manhandling me like I was his personal teen fucktoy, right here where the driver could glance back in the mirror and catch the whole show.

His fingers parted my slick folds with ease, spreading me wide, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet back of the bus. One thick digit teased my entrance, circling the hole before dipping in just enough to make me whimper, my walls fluttering greedily. I suddenly felt anger at how he just took what he wanted, no asking, no mercy, but god, the arousal drowned it out, my body arching into his touch despite the rage bubbling under my skin.

I was 18, legal but looking every bit the underage temptress in my skimpy outfit, and he played it up, his smug grin telling me he loved the risk, the illusion of corrupting something forbidden.

“Spread those legs wider, girl. Let me feel how tight that young pussy is,” he commanded, his whisper laced with that deep rumble, making my nipples ache against the camisole as another shiver wracked me.

I trembled, my fingers tightening instinctively on his cock, squeezing the massive shaft through the shorts until I felt it jerk in response, pre-cum soaking the fabric under my palm. Juices gushed from my pussy, coating his fingers as he pushed deeper, two now, stretching my slick heat with brutal precision. The age gap hit me like a punch, his wrinkled hand invading my smooth, teen pussy slit, claiming me publicly while the bus rocked along the street.

But I was worried. What if someone boarded at the next stop? What if the old lady twisted around and saw this old perv finger-fucking a horny college girl, my tits heaving with every ragged breath? The thought made my clit throb against his thumb as he rubbed it rough, circles that had me biting my lip to stifle a moan.