It started out innocently enough. A smile on the # 17 bus. A nod of the head. Then I brushed the front of his trousers with the back of my hand. It was an accident, maybe. I didn't really feel anything. He wasn't aroused at the time and it was the back of my hand but it happened. I told myself it was an accident, and maybe it was, but the more I think about it the less I believe that. I think I chose that moment to see if I could attract his attention.
The next day nothing, just a smile - just like before; it carried on this way for a while until one day the bus was crowded. He smiled when he boarded, he always smiled at me. As usual, there were no seats, but today he slid in behind me and grabbed the loop with his left hand. He put his other hand on my ass. Only for a second, then he moved it away. I turned my head and smiled. He smiled back and returned his hand to my ass. We both kept smiling and rode downtown.
I felt the heat from his hand on my ass all day and found it difficult to concentrate on my work.
The next day, he stood in front of me so I put my hand on his ass and got a handful of wallet.
"Sorry," he said as he dipped his fingers between my hand and his ass. He removed the offending wallet and placed it in his coat pocket. We rode downtown again, both of us smiling.
We carried on this way for the better part of a month. There was some progress: fingers moving, squeezing, exploring, and probing. Then one day he stumbled as he boarded. We reached for one another to avoid a fall and for a brief moment his hand rested on my breast. He smiled, moved his thumb across my nipple and gave my tit a gentle squeeze. I blushed and smiled back at him.
"Pardon me," he said as he took his hand back, "are you all right?"
"Of course," I replied as he turned around to stand in front of me.
I put my hand on his ass and squeezed then I leaned forward and pressed my tits against his back. I let the motion of the bus help and by the time we reached my stop my nipples were hard and there was a heavy moisture between my legs.
The following Monday I didn't wear panties on the bus, I carried them in my purse to put on in the office but I didn't wear them on the bus. I waited for him to notice. He noticed alright. He noticed right away. When he put his hand on my ass and felt no edging, elastic, or seams. I heard him catch his breath as he tugged the hem of my short skirt up, and rubbed his finger tips across the bottoms of my ass cheeks.
It was different today. It was like we had been involved in foreplay for more than a month, and today the foreplay was finished. I was excited as he pushed his finger between my legs and I moved my feet apart a bit, to better accommodate his exploratory prodding. I glanced around the coach and none of our fellow passengers seemed to be paying any attention so I put my hand behind my back and grabbed his erection through his trousers. I moved my thumb back and forth across the head of his cock he moved his middle finger back and forth between my legs from my clit to my anus. I came first and managed to remain quiet by biting my lip and avoided unneeded attention. He came shortly afterwards. His breathing changed, and I could feel the warm cum coursing from the end of his dick and soaking through the material of his trousers as I continued to rub and stare straight ahead as though nothing was happening.
He pulled his hand from between my legs and removed his jacket. He draped it over his arm and held it in front of himself, to cover the large, warm, sticky wet spot on the front of his suit. I turned around and smiled at him as I put my thumb in my mouth. He smiled at me as he rubbed his finger beneath his nose.
I blew him a kiss as I disembarked at my stop and he wiggled his fingers, waving goodbye. I thought about him all day. I didn't even know his name but I determined that I would invite him out to dinner.
The next morning I waited anxiously to reach the stop where he always boarded but he wasn't there. He didn't ride the bus with me that day. Or the next day either. I didn't see him the rest of the week. That weekend I took the bus to his stop, the stop where he boarded the bus. I spent all day Saturday and all day Sunday wandering the avenues, cul-de-sacs, and streets in that neighborhood. I assumed it was his neighborhood. I wanted to see him and share a glass of wine. I wanted to ask him his name. I wanted to tell him mine.
I never saw him again and after all this time I am beginning to doubt my memory. Was he ever really there? Did I really let a man whose name I didn't even know finger me to a climax on a public bus? Did I really taste his cum? Lick it from my thumb?
God, I hope it was real! I know it was wonderful.
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