by Matthew Jackson
(05/14/03)

"I don't think I'm in the mood tonight"

"That's okay."

"Look, I don't want it full on, you know, but you could tell me a story. That might be fun."

"I'm no good at stories. My mind just goes blank."

"Tell me one from all those books you read. You know, a story that keeps coming back to you."

"I could tell you about the woman I saw on the bus back from up North last week."

"Do I really want to know about this? You and a woman on the bus?"

"Nothing happened. I didn't even talk to her. It's just something I saw that was a bit unusual."

"Okay. Well, let's see."

"She was already on the bus when I got on. I just happened to sit across the aisle from her about a half dozen seats from the front of the bus, where I usually sit. So I sat down with my backpack on the seat beside me, got my book out and started to read. I knew she was there but didn't really pay any attention to her. You know, I just sort of saw her when I glanced at the view past her, outside the bus."

"Describe her."

"She was just a woman. Someone on the bus."

"No. Come on, if you want me to get into your story you have to describe things. It's not a news bulletin."

"Okay. She was about 28 or 30, blonde--"

"Of course."

"No, she was. Some people have to be, you know. It doesn't mean anything. I thought she looked smart enough. I think blondes get too much bad press."

"All right, she was a blonde with a PhD in genetic engineering. What was she wearing under her lab coat?"

"Cheap shot. No lab coat. She was wearing a woollen pullover with horizontal stripes. Light blue, white and some other color. She had on black slacks and there was a dark duffle coat and her shoulder bag on the seat beside her, the one next to the aisle. And she was wearing trendoid narrow sunglasses.

"I thought she was a bit full of herself. You know, local girl moved to the city, got a good job where you dress up, comes back to visit but doesn't really connect with her old friends any more. Happy to be on her way back to town after the weekend.

"Anyway, at the changeover, I got off the bus for a piss and some fresh air. It was blowing and raining and there was nowhere to hide out from the weather so I went back to my seat. I was reading again when she returned to her seat and we nodded to each other--"

"As you do."

"As you do. And before most of the passengers got on there was this little kid, about four, who went down the aisle saying hello to those of us already on the bus. The woman in front of me said hello to him and I said "gidday" but when he said hello to the blonde she tried to ignore him. He said hello to her again, louder, and that time she slid her sunnies down her nose and just stared at him. He shrugged his shoulders and went on to the next person."

"Little town trying to be big town."

"Yeah, like I said, she seemed a bit full of herself. So, anyway, everyone gets on the bus and we head off on the last leg."

"And you're going to tell me about every mile of it."

"Now you want me to be fast?"

"Well, I'm sort of getting into it, like a road movie, wondering if or what is going to happen. But I think I might fall asleep before anything does."

"Uh huh. Well, about halfway through the trip I look up from my book and look out the window past her..."

"And see what?"

"Sheep, of course, and the Tiers off in the distance.

"Anyway, you know how your eye is more sensitive to things at its corner? Well, I just caught this movement in the corner of my eye and it was her.

"I looked again and she had her book open on her lap, holding it with one hand, reading it while she was rubbing her breast with the other hand."

"Sure, right, and her luscious bazookas were straining at the fabric of her top, nipples erect and poking through the knit of her pullover. Right there on the bus, in front of you, with all the grannies around!"

"They weren't bazookas, just normal, and I don't know about her nipples, but she was doing it. I think she forgot where she was and was into her story. Anyway, she was doing these sort of round stroking motions."

"Show me."

He lifted his hand to his chest.

"No. Here. On me."

He slowly stroked her pajamas over her breast, around the outside to under the fold, lifting the weight of it slightly.

"No. I think she would have been slower, lighter. There, that's better. And I think she would have kept away from the nipple. You men always go there too soon. You have to wait until they're really tingly. Ummm. So she kept this up for the next hour, until the end of the trip? I think I can handle that."

"No, she didn't. I think she realized where she was but she changed her motion to sort of brushing down her pullover. As if she was brushing crumbs off it except she wasn't eating anything."

"Well, you don't have to stop."

"Okay. Well, anyway, I went back to my book and she went back to hers. A little later, as it was getting dark, I looked up again, trying to decide if I would turn my reading light on and keep reading or just watch the night and think. She had her light on. It was shining down onto her book, held again with her left hand. Her right hand was resting on her tummy but it didn't look quite right.

"I couldn't see her fingers. I thought, maybe she was deformed. You know, didn't have any fingers on that hand for some reason. I tried to think if she had held herself earlier in the day to disguise a deformity or if I'd seen anything different. Then she leaned over to her bag and got her mobile phone out with one hand and I realized she had had her fingers inside the band of her trousers."

"Are you sure?"

"I wasn't then but it became pretty obvious."

"Did she know you were watching? Was she doing it for you?"

"I don't think so. I think she was just so into her own space she wasn't aware of where she was. It wasn't like it was some sort of come-on or anything. Anyway, she made a call, I guess arranging her pick-up at the bus depot. Then she went back to her reading.

"Next time I glanced over her fingers were back inside her trousers and this time I could see the fabric moving over her mound. This time it was pretty obvious what she was doing and I couldn't help imagining her fingers stroking the hair down there, wondering if it was downy or coarse. The motion of her fingers was slow and dreamy but my heart was in my mouth and I had to lower my own book onto my lap, hiding my growing erection."

"You didn't come, did you? I don't want you coming for other women."

"No, I didn't come."

"Show me what she was doing with your other hand." She lifted the waistband of her pajamas.

He slid his fingers over her mound, his palm against her tummy. Her hairs brushed against his fingertips as he stroked the silky skin underneath.

"Well, I had to adjust myself, move in my seat to ease my jeans, and I thought she had seen me. She took her hand out and rested her elbow on the window sill, looking out. I could recognize the buildings in the dark outside her window and knew we were only a few minutes from the depot.

"Then I realized she was smelling her fingers. She closed her book with her other hand and put it on the seat beside her. Then she pulled her coat over her lap as if she were cold. She put her other hand under the coat and again I thought that she had realized what she was doing and where she was and stopped. But then she put her fingers in her mouth, sucking them. Her other arm was sort of pushed down between her legs under the coat."

"Like this?" She pulled his fingers down, against her folds.

"Probably."

She parted herself with her fingers, her hand over his, and pressed his fingers into her moistness. He stroked her clitoris, then began to circle it with his fingertip.

"Ummm. I think it might have been something like that." She grabbed his cock as he knelt next to her. "So keep telling me about your woman on the bus."

"Well, she had her one hand down there and I could see the coat moving up and down above it. She was sucking two of the fingers of her other hand and stroking her nose with the middle one, breathing in her smell. The hand on her pussy started moving pretty quickly--"

"Show me."

"She pulled her fingers out of her mouth and put her whole hand over it. I thought to myself she's going to come and I think I was holding my own breath, you know, sort of riding along with her, wanting it to be a great orgasm. We both got the shock of our lives when the driver's voice came over the public announcement system."

"Shush. Don't stop." She arched her own back. "Faster." She pulled on his erection. "Yes, yes, no, stop." She dropped back onto the bed, a sheen of perspiration flushing her face as he welled over her hand. He let go of her breast and grabbed her hand to still the friction.

"That was nice. Do you think your woman had an orgasm?"

"I don't know. We both got such a shock hearing the driver's voice we jumped out of our seats. Anyway, she tidied herself up and we both packed our things away ready to leave the bus.

"Then this was really funny. She was the first person off and almost ran to the terminal exit, pushing past the other passengers. The driver called after her not to push people like that. She apologized, saying she was rushing to meet her pick-up outside."

"I bet she was."

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