Bus Ride
What I thought was going to be a little bit of innocent groping on the bus turned out to be much more. But then you never know when these magical moments might arrive, so you must act on every one as if it might turn into something extraordinary.
I was on the number 5 bus, heading home from work. The number 5 is always crowded at that time of day. Business men take it from downtown to the fancier parts of town where they can retreat into their houses, take off their ties, and unwind from the day. Today was no different, and the bus was packed so tightly that my body was pressed up against several other people.
The bus driver stopped at the last stop on the way out of the financial district and I groaned, looking at the bus stop and wondering how any of those people would fit into the crowded bus. But the doors opened and a few more people managed to press into the crowd, one of them being a young girl that did not belong on that bus.
She looked like a college student, young and innocent, and not at all like a business woman. Maybe 19 or 20, she had long, messy brown hair, and wore a scrap of short blue shorts that barely covered the round firmness of her ass, and a sheer tank top that clearly showed her pert breasts, and the fact that she was not wearing any sort of bra. She was cute, in the way that all young coeds tend to be, and I found myself staring without restraint into her cleavage, as she stared straight ahead into the chest of another man.
As I have said, the bus was very crowded, and I noticed that it was all men my age pressed in next to this cute young thing, my age being 35. We were so closely packed together that nothing below our briefcases could really be noticed. That thought popped into my mind about the same time as the desire to feel her round, surely firm ass. I must admit that I have been known, or rather unknown, to take certain opportunities to brush up against women on the bus before, playing it off as an accident as I graze their chest with my forearm or their behind with my fingertips. I get a certain rush from them being uncertain as to whether or not my touch was actually an accident. But this time was slightly different. I decided that I wanted her to be sure that I was doing it on purpose. I figured that she would glare at me with distaste and I would remove my hand, but doubted that she would make much of a commotion.
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