I let a stranger touch me on the bus last night… and I fucking loved it.
City bus at midnight, me half-asleep heading to my night shift. Lights blurry, engine humming. Then he sat down—tall, broad, cologne hitting me like a secret.
His thigh brushed mine first. I didn’t move. That heat seeped through my thin work pants and something in me just… gave in.
Slowly, his big warm palm settled on my thigh, fingers spreading like he already owned the space. A shiver shot up my spine. I let him.
1/5
His touch got bolder with every sway of the bus. Fingertips tracing slow circles, inching higher. I kept my eyes half-closed, pretending to sleep, but my breath was already racing.
No one noticed. Or if they did… I didn’t care.
His hand slid between my legs, cupping me through the fabric, gently squeezing my growing hardness. I was getting so wet—hot little beads of precum soaking my boxers, making everything cling.
He noticed.
Fingers worked my waistband open just enough.
2/5
Skin on skin now. He wrapped around me—perfect pressure, thumb circling my slick head while the bus rocked us like we were the only two people alive.
Every slow stroke pulled a throb out of me. I bit my lip hard.
Hips twitching into his grip, I was gone. He stroked me so deliberately, teasing, squeezing, owning every inch while the city blurred past the windows.
I’ve never felt anything that risky… or that good.
Brakes hissed. His stop.
3/5
He pulled his hand free—slow, almost reluctant—zipped me back up with one last teasing pat, and stood. I watched him walk down the aisle, tall frame cutting through the crowd.
Right before the doors closed, he glanced back, lifted his hand in a little wave, and hit me with the wickedest smile I’ve ever seen.
Then he was gone. And I was left throbbing, aching, soaked.
This was my second time this week.
The first one felt amazing. This one? This one left me desperate for more.
4/5
Edd