Stranger in the bus

The stranger stood behind me.

The bus hit a bump in the asphalt, and swayed, causing the stranger's torso to brush my spine. I lingered against him for a moment as he apologized, enjoying the warmth that was suddenly enveloping me. With the fervent breath of his apologetic words still heating my earlobe, I pulled away. He followed, pressing into me again. I swallowed hard when his palm came to rest on my right hip. My heartbeat stuffed my ears as his fingertips brushed the hem of my skirt. I caught my breath when he paused.

The bus continued to speed along the downtown streets, but my world had come to an abrupt stop. I had never done anything even remotely resembling what was now happening.

I surprised myself, parting my legs ever so slightly to allow the stranger's hand to move forward. I hadn't responded to his touch for so long.

My breast heaved as his hand snaked just beneath my skirt, and his fingertips came to rest on my inner thigh. He grabbed the pole, laying his palm on top of the back of my hand, and plastered himself against me as he carved a trail farther up my thigh with his feverish fingertips. Read the full story>>