Bus Stop

by Marc Nobbs

Copyright 2004 knobbieknobbs

Humor Sex Story: A guy is forced to take the bus to work while his car awaits repairs. Riding home one night, the bus is so full he finds himself rubbing his erection against the arse of the girl in front with every bump in the road. He's quite embarrassed. She reacts differently. You know what happens next. A fairly vanilla stroke story. This version was updated from the 1998 original in 2004. I plan to rewrite/re-imagine it, with the same characters and basic plot, to bring it into my Westmouth universe

Caution: This Humor Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Humor   .

When people ask how I met June, I smile and reply, "On the bus." Of course, I can't tell them the whole story. June and I grin at each other, and enjoy our sexy little secret. My first dinner with her parents was embarrassing. I had to think on my feet that night, I can tell you.

We've been married nearly two years now, and our first child is on the way. Life is good, and even though we've got a reliable car these days, we still take the bus every now and then, just for old time's sake.

My car was off the road. The clapped out piece of junk had finally given up the ghost. Trouble was, I had too much on my plate to shop around for a new motor. I had to take the bus to work each day instead. Mornings were fine. I always went in early when the bus was empty. I read the morning newspaper on the journey. The ride home was a different matter. The mass exodus of shoppers and students from the town centre, made the journey very uncomfortable.

One particular Wednesday in December, I was late getting to the bus-stop and there was a long line of Christmas shoppers waiting for my bus. It was standing room only by the time I got on board. And not very much standing room at that. I got on, paid my fare, and headed for the back of the bus. Just like it says on the little signs.

She got on after me. She was couple of inches shorter than me, with a perfect crop of blonde hair. She stood in front of me, facing the front, as the bus pulled out of the station. We were quite close, and the scent of her perfume flooded my nostrils. It was a musky, sexy smell. I recognised it as something expensive, but I couldn't put a name to it. She had some heavy bags on the floor by her feet. I almost offered to help her with them when more people got on the bus at the next stop and we were forced to move even further into the bus. Inhibition stopped me, or maybe it was when she stepped on my foot as she shuffled backwards.

She turned around to look at me with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry." Her voice was like Golden Syrup to my ears. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

The bus was full when it pulled away again. Those of us standing were pushed up close against each other. The bus lurched and we all lurched with it. I tried to stop myself from bumping into the girl in front of me, but it was impossible.

"I'm sorry," I said. My voice sounded like gravel in my throat. "Are you okay?"

She smiled at me over her shoulder. "I'm fine."

The bus settled down and I regained my balance and stood as still as possible. I could just about see over the top of her head, but my crotch was lined up with her glorious round arse. Every bump in the road cause me to rub against her. Her scent drove me wild, and I pictured the kind of images that would have gotten me arrested had she known about them.

My cock stirred. I could feel it moving upwards and out. This would be embarrassing. I desperately tried to think of the most boring thing I could. Cricket, that's boring, but an article in the morning newspaper about a cricket star whose alleged lover claimed was great in bed, filled my head.

I tried again. Snooker. No, that was no good either. I once tried to teach a girlfriend how to play and it meant leaning over her, my crotch up against her bum. It didn't matter what I thought of, my over-stimulated brain made a connection to sex, all the time giving strength to my growing bulge.

I knew that the girl in front of me would be able to feel my dick pushing against her by now. I was convinced that she could feel every pulse as it filled with ever more blood. She hadn't even turned around and told me off yet but my face was already beetroot red. What would it be like when she did? I was thankful that most people would be getting off the bus in a few stops time. I could move away from her and avoid making the situation worse.

When the bus cleared and seats became available, I sat a couple of seats behind the blonde girl and tried to calm down. My hormones were raging, and I decided that when I got in I would put my on favourite porn movie and have a good, old-fashioned wank.

With only two stops left before mine, there were five people left on the bus, including the blonde girl. Nobody got on or off at the next stop, and I suddenly realised that mine was one of the last stops. I prayed she stayed on when I alighted. I would be very embarrassed otherwise.

Praying when you don't really believe in a god is foolish in the extreme. Any god that happens to be listening is bound to take the piss. She rose to disembark at the same time as me. I was up and past her seat, waiting for the bus to stop, before she had even managed to get her shopping bags out from behind her seat.

I felt very guilty getting off the bus carrying only a newspaper while she struggled with her load, so I helped her down off the bus, and held some of her shopping as she tried to work out the best way to carry it all.

"Look, why don't I help you carry it back to your house?"

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

"No, I don't mind. How far is it?"

"Just around the corner." She pointed in the same direction as my house. This girl lived in the same street and I had never seen her before. How could that be?

"That's my street!"

"Wow, what a coincidence!"

I took the heaviest of her bags and we set off. She lived further up the street than me. I never venture up that end, which explained why I hadn't seen her before. I said as much to her.

"Oh, I only moved in last week. I'm still getting to know the area."

"Well, unless someone else has already, let me be the first to welcome you to the street."

"My neighbours already did, but thanks anyway. I'm June, by the way."

"Hi, June. I'm Patrick, or Paddy, or ... no, you don't want to know my other nicknames."

"Why on earth not?"

"They're from the rugby club."

"Oh, I see."

I pointed out my house when we past it. We walked up the street at least another ten houses before we got to hers.

"This is one of those they converted into flats, isn't it?"

"Yeah. One up and one down. I'm on top."

I walked her to the door. She opened it and then turned around to invite me in for a coffee.

"It's the least I can do after you were so kind."

"Don't be silly, it was no trouble."

"I insist."

"Actually," I paused, unsure. "I'm a little embarrassed. I only helped because I felt guilty after, you know on the bus." I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.

"Hey! Now who's being silly? The bus was so full and we were forced so close, I'd have been positively offended if I hadn't got a reaction. Now, come on in and have a drink."

I relented and followed her through the door and up the stairs to her home, carrying the bags of course. It was a small flat, with a hallway leading off to four rooms. I assumed they were kitchen, lounge, bathroom and bedroom. She placed her bags on the floor in the hall.

"Just leave those there." She waved a hand to show me where. "Come with me and I'll put the kettle on."

I followed her through one of the doors. But it wasn't the kitchen. It was her bedroom! No sooner had this fact registered with me than she shut the door behind me and pushed me back against it.

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