This happened to me a few days ago... I keep replaying it in my mind so I thought you might enjoy it too! Leave a comment if it lights your fire, and I might write down some more of my adventures.
It was one of those sudden, warm spring days when nature seems to be bursting forth and urging everyone to think about sex. I'd had a frustrating day at work, watching the time crawl towards five o'clock when I could head out and catch the bus home. Finally, the time came and I nipped to the loo to freshen up before dashing across the road, just in time to hop on the bus.
Unaccustomed to the warm weather, I probably looked dishevelled again by the time I staggered down the aisle of the already-moving vehicle. I spotted a couple of free seats towards the back of the bus, and quickly chose the seat next to the cute guy, rather than the crazy old lady. I've always had an eye for younger guys, and I knew I wouldn't be getting any from my boring, work-obsessed hubby once I got home, so I relished the chance to check out this lush thing next to me. I reckoned him to be around eighteen, so I didn't feel too guilty, although I'm approaching thirty and starting to feel a bit old for guys that age.
His build was slight, accentuated by his skinny jeans and tight checked shirt, and his trendy, razor-cut hair flopped down low over his eyes. Nevertheless, I could tell he'd noticed my presence, glancing surreptitiously to his right to scope out my cleavage. I've never been thin, but I'm curvy rather than fat and the short, tight-fitting jersey dress I'd worn for work had drawn some admiring looks earlier in the day. Coupled with the spring weather and my impatient mood, this meant that my silk knickers, encased in the thin leggings I'd put on that morning in the absence of any unladdered tights, were uncomfortably damp and clinging to me in a number of intimate ways.
The boy seemed restless and uncomfortable too, and I wondered if it had anything to do with the vibrations from the bus. We were stuck in the usual rush-hour gridlock, and the constant throb from the idling engine was coming up through the knackered old seats and starting to give me a proper horny buzz. I nearly laughed when I saw him hastily retrieve his rucksack from next to his feet and position it protectively over his crotch, well, that answered that then! I watched him adjust so that one hand rested over his groin, under the bag, whilst the other lay slightly too casually over the top. I saw his long, strong, guitarist's fingers brace against the bag as he kept up an even pressure with it. I was completely fascinated, I didn't care how long it took to get home as long as I could just keep watching this. I imagined that strong, practised hand stroking his erection, cradling it exactly how he liked, while his mind swarmed with furtive, filthy thoughts about his girlfriends and teachers.
I needed him to know that despite my professional appearance I was just as turned on as he was. I looked away, gazing out of the opposite window, and gradually relaxed my legs, letting my left knee drift ever closer to his. Finally, contact, a small spot of heat now growing between my thinly-clad leg and the outer seam of his jeans. I heard a quick intake of breath but he didn't move. This taboo-breaking contact with a stranger, however tame, was driving me wild. I felt the hot ache of desire spread through my belly, my inner muscles clenching with the need for something to grip onto. I glanced once more in his direction; he was glued to the sight of my full, rounded bosom rising and falling in time with my rapid breathing. He finally noticed me looking at him and smiled, briefly, guiltily, before sighing and staring resolutely out of the window.
This was the moment; as the bus inched to the next stop and most of the other passengers alighted, I let my left hand drift down to rest on the side of my leg, the back of my hand now touching him too, and slid it fully onto his thigh, under the rucksack. He jumped a little from the sudden intimate touch, but as I watched him, concerned, his head turned and I saw from the wicked grin on his full lips that he thought something pretty amazing was happening. He relaxed, although still gazing at me in wonder, slumping in his seat and arranging the bag to allow me free access without it being obvious to anyone else what was going on. Dragging my palm a couple of inches closer to his zipper, I immediately found the thick, swollen lump of his manhood, pointing towards me, trapped between his thigh and the thin denim of his pants. I squeezed it, savouring its fullness and the pulsing heat of it, and he gave a low, sexy groan, hastily turning it into a cough as he looked around to check no one was watching. He squirmed with pleasure as I circled my thumb over the head of it, sliding over the dampening fabric and tapping in time with his precum-oozing spasms.
I knew it wouldn't be long before he exploded, so I thought I'd give him something else to remember first, briefly taking back my hand and using it to hitch up my dress and guide his eager fingers to the waistband of my leggings. With his eyes closed in concentration, he shoved his hand into my knickers, and I groped his cock again just in time to feel it jump as his fingertips sank into the folds of my slippery pussy. This was too much for him; with a whimper, he unloaded in his pants, a few strong spurts gushed right through to coat my hand. I gave him a final caress, collecting as much cum as I could, and brought it to my face. Blinking and gasping for breath, he watched me smell my fingers and paint his juice delicately around my smiling lips, sucking it off each finger in turn.
The bus was drawing near to my stop so I quickly rearranged my clothes and searched in my handbag for a pen, pulled up his sleeve and wrote my phone number on his forearm. He leaned close to me and whispered, 'Thank you!'
Needless to say, as soon as I got home I treated myself to an extra-long session with my rabbit vibrator, imagining what my new toyboy's young, straining cock will feel like buried deep inside me.