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From: Rommir Reflection <rommirf@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Bus Ride
Lines: 163
Date: Fri, 10 Feb 2006 02:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

(( Written for my friend J.  Urged to share. So, eh, here it is... ))

Jesse was not much one for public affection. She was a quiet, shy girl,
with long brown hair that she curled that framed her face, making her
big, brown doe eyes seem even bigger. She was the exact opposite of most
of her family, a large Italian clan that had always made me feel
welcomed, but left my head ringing with their loud dinners and I had
made a point not to visit on nights they were watching football. They
were always full of hugs; Jesse's mom was never shy about squeezing my
head between her rather plump breasts when I could come over to visit.
Jesse, however, would never do more than allow me to hold her hand when
we were out in public.

I was fine with this, because she was so funny to be with. Her quiet
demeanor hid the fast, witty mind inside and her sarcasm was very
catching when she let it slip out, often in whispers and private
conversations. When we were alone, she was not so shy, and was quite
free with her kisses and the petting she allowed to happen. Though, even
then, she was shy about where my hand wandered. I respected that,
because it was not about her body I liked her, but after several weeks
of dating, I had yet to get my hands around her cute ass or between her
legs, nor my mouth on the dark brown nipples that my fingers only had
been allowed access to.

Thus, the day that changed, it was sudden and will stick in my mind for
most of my days, I'm sure.

The day was spent as most were for us, long into our junior year, at the
mall with our friends.  For the most part, our two separate groups of
friends often inter-mingled, several of the guys and girls dating off an
on, and the strands of the relationship web stretched amongst us,
thankfully with little lasting drama. We often hung out in the food
court, around the fountain that provided quick change for food when
nobody was looking. It was here, on the lip of the fountain that I had
my first hint that the day would be different.

Jesse had come to the mall, wearing orange running shorts, with white
trim, with a matching t-shirt that did a good job of making her small
breasts seem bigger than they were. She was shorter than me, yet had
nice legs, dark skinned and shapely, and the shorts did a great job
showing them off. On her feet, simple white tennis-shoes and ankle-high
socks. This I remember quite well, because her shoe had come untied, and
she sat on the edge of the fountain and looked up at me.

"Could you stand in front of me, please?" she asked, in her quiet voice.
Her eyes flashed around to our crowd, most of which were busy talking,
flirting, holding hands, one couple had their heads together, sneaking
kisses when they thought nobody was noticing.

"Sure," I said, not quite sure why she wanted me to, but I complied,
moving to stand facing her.

When she lifted the leg with the untied shoe to tie it, knee under her
chin, I saw why. Her shorts were short enough that when her knee came
up, I got a peek at her panties underneath. They were a light pink,
cotten with small yellow flowers dotting ahere and there. A few dark
hairs poked around the edges int the front. My job, my duty, was to
block any further peeks from others, so I moved a bit closer to do so.
She quickly tied the shoe and my peek was gone. She stood and took my
hand.

"You could have knelt," I suggested. We were walking around to a booth
in the food court to sit, she prefered it there, since the fake plants
around the top gave a sense of privacy.

"I didn't want to," she replied, she looked at me and smiled. Her eyes
told me that the peek was unintentionally on purpose. A moment for me,
but not planned, and I took pleasure in that. At the moment, I did not
realize the day would end with quite more than a peek at her undies.

Later, as each of our friends slowly drifted away to where ever they
went when we were not hanging, Jesse and I decided to go as well. It was
getting late and her parents would expect her home for dinner.
Thankfully, for both of the routes to our homes, we had to take the same
bus, so we went outside the mall and boarded.

Thankfully, the bus was far from crowded, with most were in the front.
We went directly to the back, as we always did when we could. The back
was a single row of seats, and we got into to the right side, her
against the window and myself next to her. We chatted lightly, about
school and such, and she leaned her head against my shoulder. I rested
my hand upon the smooth skin of her left thigh.

Slowly my hand slipped upwards, slowing moving up her thigh. She
noticed, smiled, and didn't stop me. Emboldened, I let my hand move up
the hem of her shorts, my fingers touching the soft cotten of her
panties. Her eyes flashed to mine, then to the people up towards the
front of the bus. The closest to us was 3 rows up, an older lady, her
hair pulled back, her head nodding as she slept.

I looked at Jess, my fingers slipping along the front of her panties,
feeling the softness of her pubic hair on her mound. I could not believe
she was allowing this and I'm sure the question was in my eyes. Her
answer, as she glanced forward once again, was to slide her hips
forward, lifting her left leg to rest it on my right knee, allowing my
hand more access. Her hand slipped to my thigh and her head returned to
rest against my arm.

I did not hesitate. My hand slipped down, caressing her pussy, feeling
her lips under the fabric. Then pulling the panties and shorts aside,
over the top of my hand, her right leg slowly fell open against the side
of the bus. My eyes feasted upon that which I had yet to see in
private; the dark curly hairs soft to the touch. My fingers slid lightly
along her slit and I felt her body tense. Slowly, my middle finger
slipped between, and found her love hole quickly getting moist. Gently,
the finger slipped a bit inside, feeling the warmness, tightness. I knew
she was a virgin, so I was careful in how far the finger moved, but even
then, the call of her wetness allowing me to do so was almost
irresistable.

I worked the finger in and out, my finger very slick, and I slipped it
up and against her clit. In that instant, her hand on my thigh dug in
the fingers and a gasp escaped her lips. My eyes flashed from where they
had been glued to the front of the bus to see if anyone had noticed.
None had, or had they, did not seem to care, and I placed a kiss on the
top of her head.

I moved my finger back into her and then back to her clit several times,
her growing wetness allowing me to get her nice and slick.  Her
breathing started to come faster against my arm, her hand grasped and
released my jeans.  Soon, I had both of my two inner fingers inside of
her, working them in and out, while the palm of my hand rubbing against
her mound.

Her hips moved, pressing her pussy against my hand and soon, her love
hole was squeezing tightly against my fingers, her mouth was latched
onto my arm, cutting off her gasps and muffling her moans. Suddenly, her
right hand went down and held my hand still, keeping my fingers in her
while her body tensed and she rode the orgasm, her hips doing the work.

As soon as the pleasure passed, she pulled my fingers out of her pussy
and pulled her panties and shorts back into decent position, her eyes
glancing forward nervously and then to my face.

Her voice was stressed, but her breathing was returning to normal.
"Thank you," she whispered..."oh my god, thank you." She lift the sleeve
of my t-shirt and placed a kiss on the marks her teeth had left. "I
wanted to stop you, but..." her voice trailed off and she hid her face
against my shoulder.  I knew she was blushing.

I smile and leaned my head against hers. "I'm glad you didn't."

She nodded and her hand slipped up my thigh, to the hardness that was in
my pants. She looked up at me and smiled.

"Want to trade places?" she asked, the shy smile returning to her face
that was still just a bit flushed.

I shook my head. "No time. The next stop is mine."  She looked out the
window and saw that it was true.

"Next time."

"Maybe," was all I could say.

I left her on that bus, after trading kisses, and she went home, took a
shower and called me on the phone. She teased me about liking to ride
the bus now, instead of bumming rides from parents. Sadly, however,
there was never a next time. A few weeks later, I was told we were
moving, and Jesse and I soon broke up, a bit tearfully, but we knew the
move would have ended it as well.

I do still like riding busses, just for the memory.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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