This erotica short is an entry to the weekly Masturbation Monday challenge, hosted by author Kayla Lords! The rules are simple: write something nasty that makes people want to masturbate. If you liked to read it, “like” this post! 🙂
She wears knee-high white socks, a short plaid skirt, a white sweater, and a gold cross. She rides the bus around town late at night, not because she wants to secure a degree, but because she wants to be touched by strange men.
The 9:15 bus from St. Joseph’s Street.
The 10:05 bus from Santa Clarita.
The 11:00 from 16th Ave.
Back and forth on bumpy roads until the circle from her small apartment is complete and the night has ended. She stands holding the yellow bus pole so that men sitting down can see up her skirt to the curve of her ass, bouncing, jumping with each pothole. Sometimes she spreads her legs so wide that they can see a piece of cunt, shining and wet.
She sways her ass back and forth, calling. The men will stand up and hold the pole behind her until her ass finds their crotch in that constant sway. She doesn’t stop until she finds their cock in the fabric of their pants, and then she changes her direction, pressing against it until they want what she wants.
Sometimes the men will reach their shaking hands down, far down, beneath the hem of her short skirt. Old hands, young hands, hands of many races. They will tickle her pussy to see how she’ll purr, pushing aside the folds and fucking her with quick flicks. The men will look into the shadow of the bus windows to see their paired reflection, trying to see if anyone can tell. With their bodies they cover the little blonde and hide the work. She’s never been caught.
There are men who are content with their finger work, fucking her until she sprays a mix of this-and-that onto the floor of the bus and the front of their pants. She likes those men because they always come back for more, finding her on backroad routes at strange hours.
And then, there are those who unzip their pants. Who pull out their cock and rub it between her legs until it is wet and frosted with juice. She can hear them grunt behind her, already pleased by this tentative fuck. She stands on her tippy toes to guide their work, moving over their cock with happy, wet lips.
The men will push the tip of their cock into her first. Even if they’ve fucked her before, something in their stomachs worry that she will scream. She doesn’t scream. Then, they insert their cock completely. She stands on her toes and takes it with an arched back, letting the stranger behind her move however they’d like. Sometimes they reach their hands under her shirt and pinch the nipple, sometimes they hold her hips, sometimes they don’t touch her at all.
In front of anyone who will watch, in the rear view mirror of the bus, they pull up her mini skirt and fuck her. The bus lights are unforgiving; cocks look veiny and strange. They can’t believe how wet she feels, how tight. How old is the Bus Slut? Where does she hide during the day?
She loves to be fucked by men she doesn’t know, that stand behind her and work hard to impress. They are like the Holy Spirit; something felt but never seen. Her pussy swallows their cocks with a font of eternal wetness, always hungry, never satisfied.
“Oh, oh! We shouldn’t be doing this.”
She whispers the same thing every time, but she doesn’t mean it. After these words, if they hadn’t already made her cum with their fingers, she orgasms on their cock so fiercely that the bus’s shocks are affected. She squirts a stream of juice onto the stranger, dripping down to the plastic floor mats. In this way, she marks her territory. Most of the time, the men finish at this view. Few of them have ever made a girl squirt. Even fewer of them have stuck their pricks into a girl so pretty and so bad.
As a rule, after she cums, the Bus Slut disembarks at the next stop no matter where it is. She walks to find a gas station or corner store, buys a Coke, and then walks back to the bus stop to catch another. During this break, her juices dry and the cum drips out of her onto city sidewalk. She does it again, and does it again, and does it again.
Photo credit: Michael Cory via Visual hunt / CC BY-NC
Mintie Price 