Message-ID: <43459asstr$1058746203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: El Sol <munster@eden.rutgers.edu>
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X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 20 Jul 2003 17:25:01 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: {ASSM} Bus Story By ElSol (MF college)
Date: Sun, 20 Jul 2003 20:10:03 -0400
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Author's note: Email is to be sent to munster (at) remus (dot) rutgers
(dot) edu. I get spammed WAY too much at the posting address. This story
is another old one that saw three edits recently. I thought the end
product deserved a reintroduction to ASSM especially after 3 years.
This seems to be readers' favorite of my stories. I'm still trying to
figure out why though.
<1st attachment, "busedited2" begin>
Bus Story
by El Sol
Author's Note: One of the individuals that rated this story also did me
the favor of editing it. Unfortunately, it was done anonymously so I can
say thank you properly by giving them more work. Thank you anyway.
(05/01/03)
I managed to get a job at a summer camp in Maine but had to start as soon
as classes ended because the owner needed extra work done on the place. It
killed any shot at an actual summer vacation, but I needed the money if I
wanted to live off-campus next semester. One of the few good things about
the situation was that the camp was in the middle of nowhere, so I would
have nothing to spend my money on. My wrestling coach hated the idea but
helped me put together a workout regimen to keep my skills sharp.
I sat on the bus watching the crowd of people boarding. I had arrived
early to get the seats farthest from the driver. The bathroom was next to
me, which was a minus, but no one could sit behind me, which was a bigger
plus. I took a bus to the campus my first semester and learned that three
angles of attack by the odor and nastier habits of people were too many. I
had put my backpack on the seat next to me hoping that it would prevent
other people from sitting there.
The traffic to the bus died quickly, and the bus driver got in.
I started to think I was having a lucky bus trip when sporadic traffic
from the terminal to the bus started again. The bus driver started to get
in and out of the bus, anxious to get going. A mass of people came out of
the station and headed towards my bus.
I counted heads and came up with a good chance of having a partner.
She broke from the pack suddenly.
It was a girl/woman about my age, long blonde hair streaming back as she
ran for the bus, obviously hoping for some kind of choice in seating. She
hit the door of the bus, made a rough turn, and jetted towards the back.
She hit a wall when she saw me.
She was pretty in that cookie cutter way that women my age can be; young,
fresh, and still carrying innocence. At the time, though, two things
crossed my mind: 1) female, which is always the preferred choice on an
extended trip if you HAVE to sit next to someone, and 2) she did not look
like she would acquire a ripe stench after a few hours in the bus, or even
after more than a few.
She looked at me.
A brief flash of recognition passed between us and I thought I might have
seen her on campus a few times. Then her face settled into exasperation at
my having gotten there first. I took my backpack off the seat next to me.
I saw the beginning of a sniff at the suggestion. I raised a hand to stop
her from making a decision we might both regret. I pointed to a gentleman
in the same aisle she occupied. I could not see him, but it did not take
mathematical genius to know he was taking up more space than offered by
his own seat.
She looked at him and walked quickly towards me. She took off her book bag
and threw it into the overhead rack. I smiled as she plopped down.
"Don't think I'm gonna forgive you that easily for taking my seat," she
said. I could hear a hint of laughter in her voice as she looked at the
incoming crowd and shuddered.
"I'll be quiet. I swear! I won't even talk to you," I told her.
She looked at me strangely for a second before returning to counting the
people getting on the bus. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts with a
sweatshirt bearing our school crest.
"I think we might get lucky," I said.
"How?" she asked, looking at me briefly.
"They look like family, or at least close friends. They're gonna want to
stick together. The chairs in the middle are their best bet. The loners
look mean; they'll want to be in the middle, too, just to make the family
people uncomfortable about talking. I already counted and there's just
enough to leave the back rows empty," I explained while pointing out
different people to her.
"Good!" she said with some passion.
I looked at her for a second. "First time on a bus?" I asked. She nodded.
"You're not supposed to be on this bus?" I asked her.
"No," she said guiltily. "My parents sent me a plane ticket but they
couldn't come get me. I'm supposed to take a cab home, so I returned the
ticket for the cash."
"And pocketed the difference between the bus fare and the plane ticket?" I
finished for her.
She started to nod but changed her mind.
She leaned against the bathroom wall and crossed her legs on the seat. She
was watching our busmates intently for anyone crossing into our designated
territory. The bus stopped filling up with the closest anyone had gotten
to us being two rows in front of us. There seemed to be many people on the
bus who wanted to sit in groups.
"You can stay back here," I said. She looked at me, confused. "I'm
harmless, I swear."
She rolled her eyes. I tried to smile innocently. "You should sit back
here for now. If you move up now and someone notices you, they might come
back and sit down with you. Then you'd have to deal with someone hitting
on you until one of you gets off."
"And you won't?" she said smiling.
I tilted my head to one side. "I'll make you a deal," I offered, "but only
because I really don't want to HAVE to hear somebody hit on you for the
rest of my bus ride."
"The jealous type?" she said, arching her eyebrows.
I hesitated at the playful tone in her voice before continuing. "You
protect me from having to give this seat to someone else, and I won't hit
on you."
"Someone else?"
"Yeah. This bus stops in other places and picks up people. Let's them off,
too, but we could get unlucky."
Her hand flew out so we could shake on it.
I liked cookies, but not having to share a seat with someone bigger than
her was a good enough reason to kill any shot with her. I was coming off
an unlucky cookie jar year, so why ruin a perfect record.
I settled back as the bus driver started the bus. We pulled out of the
station. Most of the stress from finals and moving out that I had been
ignoring hit me at once. My body just dropped into exhaustion. I put my
head back and looked up at the overhead rack; my eyes were barely able to
focus. I had stayed up most of the night trying to make sure I did not
miss the bus, making sure I left the room perfect, and trying to figure
out how the hell the next semester would work for me. I closed my eyes and
let the rumble of the bus knock me into a deep slumber.
A whinily insistent voice woke me. "Excuuse me, I neeed to uuse the
bathruum."
"Excuuse me."
I opened my eyes slowly, knowing if I let the voice wake me too suddenly I
was going to bash its owner's head in.
We had both fallen asleep and our bodies had come to an accommodation. She
had her back to me, lying mostly on my hip and legs. Her legs were
sticking into the aisle, blocking the bathroom door. I was lying with my
head to the window, my legs in her leg space.
"Excuuse me," the voice came again, louder and more insistent.
This time it woke her. She sat up and backed away from the woman, pressing
herself tightly against me. I got my arm out of her way. I had nowhere to
put it but around her. She latched onto it, not knowing why the hell this
woman was almost yelling at us, but hoping for some kind of support.
The woman opened the bathroom door while staring at us angrily. We made
eye contact and I absorbed the challenge in her eyes. She huffed and
entered the bathroom. The girl turned and moved away from me. She was
looking at me with her eyes wide. I started laughing and she immediately
broke into laughter with me.
"Excuuse me," she mimicked in between bouts of laughter.
We quieted down when the bathroom door opened. The woman looked down her
nose at us before walking towards the front of the bus.
"Excuuse me," the girl mimicked again.
We smiled at each other. I tried to stretch as much as I could. She tried
the same thing with as good a result. I paid careful attention to her
motions. She had removed the sweatshirt and the stretching was doing
fascinating things to the front of her t-shirt. I stopped looking when she
made eye contact.
She was smiling at me.
The bus driver used the intercom to tell everyone we would be making a
food stop.
I looked at my watch and said, "When did you fall asleep?"
"About 30 seconds after you did," she replied, giggling.
"Hey, we'll get to use a good bathroom." She nodded in appreciation.
"Can we eat there or do we have to bring it back?" she asked.
"We eat there. We will probably get like a half hour, especially if it's a
pick-up spot. They'll have to unload baggage and take on new passengers."
"But someone could take our seats," she protested.
I pointed at the overhead rack saying, "We put the bags on the seats
making it obvious someone is sitting here." She nodded her head in
understanding.
"By the way, my name is Elvis," I said.
She looked at me strangely. I was slowly getting used to how openly
expressive her face was and my ability to classify her looks only
somewhere between funny and strange.
"Ask my mom. I had nothing to do with it."
"Jessica," she told me with a brief smile.
We looked forward as the bus made the turn into the station. The bus came
to a full stop and people started piling out as fast as they could. I saw
some pretty rough shoving going on in front. Jessica looked at me and
broke into laughter. We waited for everyone to get off the bus before we
piled our carry-ons onto the seats. She stopped halfway down as we were
walking to the front to watch the wrestling match that was going on for
luggage beside the bus.
"Do they lose baggage?" she asked me.
"No," I replied. "Usually people steal it."
She jetted out of the bus. I had to hold on to the chair because I was
laughing so hard. I walked outside to see Jessica shuffling from one foot
to the other, occasionally bending down to see where her bags were. She
watched the people as they slowly move away from the bus before heading to
me ...
"It's still there and everyone who is getting off left," she sighed. I
broke down into laughter. Her mouth opened into a wide O, and she punched
me in the chest. I could not stop laughing. She kept punching me, harder
each time.
"All right, all right. I'll stop laughing," I said. "But you looked so
scared."
It started me laughing again. She shoved me towards the door of the bus
station. I opened the door and motioned her through. She walked just
inside the door and stopped. I had not noticed, so I walked right into
her. I put my hands on her hips so that she would not fall over. Her hands
came down on top of mine for balance.
I looked around to see what had made her stop.
It was the station.
It was dingy.
There was a thin layer of dust over everything. I could see overflowing
garbage cans. I took a firmer grip on her hips and walked backwards out of
the place with her firmly in tow. She tried to get out faster, so she
bumped into me. I noticed how much shorter she was than I was. My crotch
hit her just above her ass.
I started an internal chant about some kind of bargain we had made, I
think with the devil. I must have spoken aloud, because when we separated
she tilted her head to smile at me.
"What was that?" she said, smugness lacing her voice.
"I was cursing our little bargain, the one where I cannot hit on you," I
said.
The smug smile dropped off her face in surprise.
I walked to the other side of the bus. I figured there had to be some kind
of deli or fast food place around. I tried to remember the stop from
Christmas, but it did not help. My mom usually made sure I had enough to
eat on the trips. I spotted a deli sign on the corner of the block across
the street from us.
"Hey, look," I said, pointing to the deli.
She smiled and started running across the street. I started running after
her. We got there almost at the same time.
"Why are we running?" I asked.
"The bus will leave, won't it?" she said.
"Not for another half hour," I told her.
"Do they wait that long?" she asked.
"That's what the sign in the station said," I explained.
We walked inside. The place was much cleaner than the bus station. Jessica
noticed the customer bathrooms and headed straight for the women's. I
could see the guy behind the counter giving us a smile that said he had
seen people like us many times before.
I gave him a friendly greeting proceeding to order a sub and some potato
salad. I started looking around for some food I could safely take on the
bus and a canister of air freshener.
I heard Jessica ordering behind me as I was trying to decide between
scented or unscented. She came up beside me to watch what I was doing.
"Which do you prefer, scented or unscented?" I asked her.
"What do you need that for?" she asked back.
"The fat guy was eating in the station and he didn't take any luggage off
the bus. I think he's in for the long haul and I saw wet spots around his
armpits."
"It can't get that bad," she said, trying to say it knowingly.
The counter guy broke out into laughter. She turned around to look at the
counter guy. "Listen to the boy, miss. He's speaking the gospel truth," he
informed her.
She turned around and grabbed the biggest canister on the rack, turned to
look at me. "I'll split the cost with you."
"Done," I said. We paid as soon as the sandwiches were made.
I headed out the door and to the bus. She hurried to catch up with me.
"What's the hurry?" she asked me.
"The bus," I said.
"But it isn't leaving for a half hour," she said trying to get a potato
chip in her mouth and keep up with me.
"Ah, but that's what the sign said. It doesn't mean the bus driver can't
catch a 'tude and leave early." I started running for the bus. I heard an
angry gasp behind me, then her steps chasing me.
We made it around the front of the bus. I looked inside and saw no bus
driver. "We're cool," I said over my shoulder. I moved to sit on the step
up to the station. She sat down next to me.
"You were just fucking with me, weren't you?" she asked me as she looked
for a way to attack the huge sub she had bought.
I looked over at her. I had gotten less stuff on mine. I wanted to laugh
because she could not figure out how to eat it.
"Yeah."
She bumped me with her hip. She decided to take the sub apart and make it
a salad; at least that's what it looked like when she spread it out on her
napkin-covered lap.
We started eating in relative peace.
"Why'd you take the bus over the flight?" I asked her, trying to find any
sign of pickles in my sub.
She mumbled something.
"Why'd you take the bus over the flight?" I asked again.
She sighed and looked at me in frustration. I smiled at her. "I painted my
room," she said, attacking the sub angrily.
"What?"
"My roommate and I are art majors; so we got this bright idea to paint
murals on our walls, ceilings, and floors."
I started choking from the laughter.
"It looked pretty cool," she protested.
I nodded, trying not to spit food from laughing.
She punched me. "I didn't know the school charged you so much for painting
your room back to that ugly off-white."
"Please, just stop!" I managed to wheeze out. My stomach was beginning to
hurt from laughing.
She carefully laid her sandwich down, took mine out of my hands, and
pounced on top of me; punching me repeatedly.
"Okay, okay!" I managed to get out.
She punched me one last time for good measure before she went back to
eating her sandwich.
"So how was your freshman year?" she asked in an obvious bid to change the
subject.
"Not great, but I got everything done I needed to get done. So I guess it
was all right."
"That wasn't really informative."
"Well, you could have been more specific."
"All right, what was the best part of last year for you?"
"Only, if you answer each question, too," I replied.
"Okay, that's fair." She had for the most part done enough damage to the
sub it seemed. She started to clean herself off.
"The best part of my freshman year?" I thought about it for a few minutes
before I answered.
"Two things. I made dean's list both semesters and earned the varsity slot
in my weight class."
"Oh, a scholarly jock."
I could taste the disdain in her voice.
"That from someone who painted murals on her dorm room walls."
"Hey, jerk! Those paintings had meaning."
"Uh-huh ... expensive meaning." I couldn't hold the laughter in again.
She sniffed and looked away until I got control again.
"So what was the best part of your year?" I asked her, wiping my hands to
get rid of the lettuce stuck on them.
"Painting my room," she said brightly.
I tried not to laugh.
"And making the dean's list for both semesters." She said it smugly.
"Ahh, the scholarly artsy-fartsy type, huh?"
She gave me a mean look. I decided it might be best to leave all of that
right where it was.
"So what was the worst part," she asked me.
"Can I plead the Fifth?" I asked, trying not to smile remembering the
scene with my mom.
"Oh, no! If you answer it, I'll answer it. But you have to be honest."
"How do I know if I'm honest that you'll be honest?" I asked her.
"You don't, but then again I don't know if you're being honest, do I?" she
replied.
"All right. The worst part, huh?"
She nodded vigorously.
"Six unused condom boxes," I replied, blushing.
"What?" she said, looking at me with intense curiosity.
"It was my mom. I swear," I said, blushing even more.
"What does your mom have to do with six unused condom boxes?" she asked,
obviously trying to hold back laughter.
"Well, I was going away. She thought, you know, college, freedom, sexual
experimentation, AIDS, herpes," I said trying to imitate my mom's voice,
"and God knows what else. She decided to make sure I would be safe. Now, I
have to explain to her why not one of the boxes is open."
She started laughing.
"Hey, it's not funny. She is not going to believe I didn't have sex. She's
just going to assume I didn't use them when I was having sex."
She laughed even harder. "Why don't you just lie?"
"You don't know my mom. I can't lie to her worth shit."
The bus driver started heading for the bus, so I got up and reached down
to help her up. She kept laughing as I pushed her towards the bus.
She got in the bus and started heading towards our seats while slowly
regaining control. She handed bags to me so I could put them into the
overhead and then let me into the window seat.
She sat down.
"Okay, what was the worst part of your year, then?"
"Paying for the rooms being painted over," she said before breaking down
into laughter again. I joined her for a few minutes.
We finally stopped.
"Come on, be serious. I admitted I spent the entire year sexless. You can
at least be honest with me."
"All right, all right. The worst part," she quieted down and looked out
the window past me. "I guess my roommate's boyfriend," she said.
I looked at her curiously.
"He was always around. That kept pointing out that I did not have anyone.
Anytime we went out, I was that third wheel. It kinda sucked."
I nodded.
"It would have been easier if Mark hadn't tried to fix me up with every
guy that he knew."
"What was wrong with them?"
"Mark is the artsy type, so all he knows are artsy guys. Have you ever met
artsy guys?" she asked me.
"Umm, no. They usually avoid jocky guys."
She laughed at that but continued, "Well, they are probably as bad as I
think the jocky guys are."
"Ohh," I said. "How come only this Mark tried to fix you up, why not your
roommate, too?"
"It was a stroke of genius."
"Really?"
"Okay, after the third dating disaster, I cut a deal with my roomie. I
would go with her to all the sporting events her boyfriend wouldn't go to
with her, and she wouldn't even mention my all-alone status or how this
guy was just so right for me."
"Sporting events?" I asked.
"She's a jocky-artsy type."
"What?"
"It's a really long story."
"I have time," I said pointing at the rest of the bus.
"Okay, her dad wanted a little boy, but instead he got four little girls.
So when my roomie was born and her mom couldn't have any more children, he
decided this new little girl was all his to raise how he wanted. So she
played Little League, Peewee Football, got to talk to her daddy about
sports, and now she watches sports, and loves sports etc., etc."
I nodded curiously.
"She's on the softball team, and she absolutely has to attend any AND
every sporting event for the school that's on campus and root HER team
on."
"Caroline," I said.
She nodded, surprised.
"You're Caroline's roommate," I said, as I felt many things falling into
place.
"You know her?" she asked me.
I nodded carefully.
"Well, her boyfriend hates going to sports stuff so Caroline had to go
alone, but I made that deal. She leaves me alone and I go to everything
with her."
I nodded again.
"It's worked out so far."
I sat quietly staring out the window at the passing countryside. The sky
was beginning to turn grey and we seemed to be heading towards even darker
cloud cover.
"She knows everything about you, you know," she said, interrupting my
thinking of nothing.
"Really?" I said curiously, wondering where she was going with it.
"Yeah, she said that we were lucky to have you wrestling for our school;
just about any program would love to have you. That you are really too
good to be wrestling for such a small school. Yadda yadda yadda."
She looked as if she was building up courage to ask something.
"Wouldyouposeforme?" she got it out really fast.
"Would I what?" I asked, confused at the sudden change in subject.
"Would you pose for me? You know, as in for a sculpture?" her voice
strengthened as she gained confidence.
"Why?" I asked.
"Cause you're like this god athlete or something," she said angrily.
"No, I'm not. I wrestle. That's it," I said beginning to get pissed at her
attitude about me.
"Why'd you come here anyway? Caroline says you could have gone to any
school." She was trying to change the subject again.
"My mom," I said, looking out the window.
"Your mom?"
"Yeah."
"Come on. You are not leaving it there. I mean, you could've gone to some
really good schools."
I sighed. "I would have had to cut a lot of weight, because I'm so short."
"What weight?" she said, looking at me up and down.
"For wrestling. I would have had to drop a couple of weight divisions but
my doctor my senior year in high school said I'm a very late bloomer and
was still gaining natural body weight. If I went to a big program I would
have had to cut an unhealthy amount of weight."
She nodded.
"My mom 'talked' to the coach here. He agreed to let me wrestle at the
weight my doctor felt was healthiest. My mom kinda went ballistic when she
heard what weight the bigger programs wanted me to wrestle at, so this
became our only option."
"Kinda?" she asked.
"I think there were several somethings in there about 'over her dead
body.'"
"So you settled for here?" she asked.
"No. We chose here. I get to do it my way," I replied, maybe still trying
to convince myself.
"Why does the weight thing matter?" she asked me quietly.
"I'm really short for my weight class. I am not growing any taller but I'm
still gaining bulk. By my senior year I should be up another 24 pounds in
natural growth."
She nodded for me to continue.
"I'm shorter already than just about anybody in my weight division. I am
going to be moving up into divisions where I will be the shortest guy in
the country in that division. It is always a question of who is the first
to get used to me being that short. Me, wrestling a guy with reach and
usually better leverage? Or him, awkwardly wrestling someone smaller with
much better balance?"
"You seemed to do well enough," she said.
I looked at her. "Been to a few home matches?" I asked.
"Caroline," she explained.
"Yeah, I do okay right now. But as I go up in weight if I keep wrestling
at a comfortable weight I have to hope the competition can't handle my
size or else I will have to find another sport. At least, I am stronger
than they are so that is another advantage. Plus I'm more comfortable with
my wrestling weight because it's closer to my normal weight."
"So are you going to pose for me?" she asked suddenly.
"Why do you want me to pose?" I asked her seriously.
"'Cause you're a lot different than what we get in our classes, or when we
put in ads." Her voice was starting to drift dreamily, "I mean, how can I
make this beautiful sculpture of a human body without a beautiful body to
work with?"
"A beautiful body," I said, raising my eyebrows.
"You know what I mean. The beauty of Michelangelo's David is David's
beauty. Part of it is that you capture this body so close to perfection
and you freeze it in that perfection for as long as the statue lasts."
I sat listening to her. I did not really have anything in my life except
my mom that I could talk about with the love she seemed to have for her
art.
"I watched you wrestle in the first home tournament, and I went to every
one after." I leaned back against the window. "I took the school buses to
the events," she said to me pointedly. "I took rides. I mean you move
great but every now and then you would stand still and ..."
She looked at me as if she was trying to reach something inside me.
"You would stand on the mat not moving except for, like, this little shake
you did occasionally. But it's not a physical loosening. It was as if you
were trying to bounce doubt off you. I could feel my hands molding the
clay to capture the way the muscles on your neck looked when you did that
half-motion shake of your head."
"God, if I had you posing I could work in anything. I would not be nervous
about it. I would just work. You know what I mean?"
I nodded.
"You don't, do you?"
I shook my head.
She sighed. "Would you just pose for me?"
"Nude?"
She blushed but nodded seriously.
"How about in my wrestling gear?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
She smiled at me but was still watching me closely.
I looked out the window.
"If you make something I can give my mom as a wedding present, I'll pose
for you anytime you want."
"Your mom is getting married?"
I nodded with an annoyed pucker on my lips.
"You're not happy."
I sat up uncomfortably. "Nah! I'm just jealous."
She started laughing. "You admit that?"
"Hell, yeah. I've had her all to myself for 15 years. And now she wants to
get married and they are talking a new baby or maybe an adoption. I'm
happy for her 'cause I'm not there, but I'm still jealous." I said it all
really fast, then crossed my arms on my chest.
She laughed, and I joined her in the laughter eventually.
"When's the wedding?" she asked.
"The fourth week of August. I'll get home from my summer job and be thrown
into wedding preparations."
She smiled at me.
"I'll be giving away the bride," I said proudly.
The smile warmed.
We watched the beginning of a lightning storm outside the window. She got
closer to be able to look outside until she was leaning over me. We
watched as lightning bolts colored the sky from time to time.
She turned all of a sudden. We were face to face. I watched her, knowing
that I had promised not to do anything. She was prettier than my first
cookie cutter impression. Her eyes were a plain blue from a distance, but
from up close I could see all the different blues that molded into
plainness. Film clips started running through my head. I wondered if she
would have to touch me to know exactly how the clay would have to feel as
she molded it.
I started to harden.
She did not move. We just sat there looking at each other.
"How come they went unused?" she asked.
"What?" I asked, trying to concentrate on her words instead of exactly how
close to me her lips were at that moment.
"The condoms. Why did they go unused? I mean you are a big fish in a
little pond." As she said it she moved away so that she wasn't leaning
over me but was still very close to me.
I shrugged.
"Come on. I told you why I stayed alone. The artsy-fartsy guys."
"All right!"
I was staring out the window again trying to figure out how to put many
jumbled emotions into words.
"I guess because of my mom. She was my best friend. A lot of the time she
was my only friend, because I was so obsessed with wrestling. I was
probably her only friend for a long time, too. I can't disappoint her
after driving 500 miles to a wrestling tournament or coming to school at
even the slightest sign of trouble. She would like me to have more with a
woman than the physical stuff, and somewhere along there she taught me
just sex wasn't enough."
I looked at her. She was studying me again.
"It's all right for the physical act to be just sex, but that doesn't mean
it can't be with someone I like. You know?"
"But then it wouldn't be just sex."
"Hmm, it's sex with someone you like, respect, and care about."
"That's not just sex."
"Sure it is."
"No, it's not!"
"Why not?"
"Just sex, is, you know. You don't care about them; you want one thing,
and if you get it, you're fine with that; and if they get something good
out of it, good for them."
"No, that's fucking."
"What?" she asked, surprised.
"Yeah, there's fucking, having sex, and making love. Fucking, it's like
you want a piece and if you never see them again, oh well. Having sex, is
you want them to come back so you make damn sure they have as much or more
fun than you do, but it's still a little selfish. Depending on the person
you're with, it's either really selfish or not so selfish."
I watched one crisp lightning bolt flash across the sky only to reach up
and hug another cloud.
"What about making love?" she asked.
"I don't know. But it has to be more than anything I've ever done."
I watched a car pass us.
"Or at least I hope it's more."
We sat quietly for a while, each in our own little world.
I noticed that she was shivering and rubbing her arms up and down. "Want a
blanket?" I asked her.
"A blanket?"
"Hey, three bus trips so far. I know what the necessities are."
She smiled at me and nodded.
I stood up, turned around, and reached for my backpack in the overhead. I
started to slip. I felt her hands on my thighs catch me and aid in my
balance. I managed to retrieve it, but as I brought it down I saw her
holding me by my thighs, staring at my crotch. I started to immediately
embarrass myself. I put the backpack down on the seat and sat down.
I looked at her. She was staring at me almost blankly. I opened the
backpack and got my blanket out. I stood again and felt her hands on my
legs, to balance me. I did not look down this time, but I got harder than
I already was. I took my time putting the backpack back. I felt her hands
squeeze my thighs and move upward. I did not really have an excuse to stay
standing but I did it anyway. Her hands started moving up and down my
thighs, molding. Finally, she took her hands away and started to wrap the
blanket around herself. I sat down, at a loss for what to say.
We sat through a long spell of silence.
When I looked over at her, she was fast asleep. It did not seem like a bad
idea so I positioned myself a little more comfortably, tilted my head
back, and tried to sleep.
I woke up with her mostly on top of me. I was lying on both the seats with
my feet out in the aisle. She was lying on her stomach on top of me. The
blanket covered us both.
She woke up about a minute after I did. It took her a little longer to
realize what we had managed to do in our sleep.
At least, I thought we had managed to do it, even though I could not
figure out how we could have possibly ended up like that.
She steepled her hands on my chest and just stared at me. I got more than
a little nervous, but at the same time, a part of my body was waking up
and it liked her weight on top of me a lot.
A whole hell of a lot.
I waited to see what she would do, but she just lay on top of me staring
at me. I got harder.
I felt her moving her hips on top of me. I had no clue what to say.
A different type of pressure made itself known.
I tried to get up; she got off me and sat down. I moved past her and
entered the bathroom. It took a lot longer than it should have because I
had to wait for my hard-on to go away.
I got done, walked outside, and sat down by the window again.
I looked at my watch. We had been on the bus for about 10 hours, so we
should be stopping soon. I was still tired but did not want to fall asleep
again as I wanted to at least try to get some sleep through the night. I
still had 14 hours to go and I wanted to be wide-awake on the other side.
The bus started to slow down after awhile. I saw the rest stop by the side
of the highway.
"Where are you getting off?" she asked as she pushed the blanket off her
and stood up in the aisle.
The bus started to pull into the rest stop. I stood up and started to
stretch out the kinks in my legs and back. "The last stop in Maine," I
answered.
The bus stopped and the driver said something about a 45-minute dinner
break. We filed out of the bus. I looked around and grimaced at the
choices. All fast food and all bad fast food places.
"Yeah, my thought exactly," she told me as she looked around. "And I don't
think there's anywhere to run for a sub, either."
"Maybe they have a salad bar," I said hopefully. She looked at me out of
the corner of her eye and smirked.
We started following the crowd inside the nearest place. The people behind
the counter dealt with us quickly. I found a few things I considered
edible. She ordered some of the same stuff.
We ate in silence.
"What are you going to Maine for?" she asked. "It's kinda obvious you
don't live there?"
"I got a job in a summer camp through my coach. The guy needed some extra
work done. Plus, it was free room and board. The coach arranged for a
cheap membership to a gym in town. It should be the perfect summer job."
She was smiling widely by now.
We finished eating and started talking about school and our friends. I did
not have any close friends so I talked about the other guys on the team.
"How come you got that funny look on your face when I said that Caroline
was my roommate?" she asked innocently while playing with a piece of
lettuce.
"Nothing," I said, barely able to contain a smile.
"Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "Come on, I told you I was your groupie,
following you around on tournaments. The least you can do is tell me." She
pointed the lettuce threateningly so I decided it would not hurt anything
to tell her.
"Caroline wanted to hook us up," I said. leaning back in the chair, making
it obvious I was waiting for her reaction.
She did not give me one. She just nodded and watched me right back.
I smiled. She smiled back.
We finished our meals in silence and got back on the bus.
We did not talk while on the bus. She pulled a book out of her backpack
and I stared out the window. I had been through this part of the country
on my three bus rides to school, but I still thought it was beautiful.
We sat without talking until the sun faded away.
There was another stop to pick up and drop off passengers. I put on a
thick sweatshirt, and spent the rest stop doing what I could as a workout.
Jessica sat on the step up to the station watching me.
It was just a heavier version of my warm-ups before a wrestling match. I
did not want to sweat too much. I tried to focus mostly on stretching.
After about 20 minutes, I grabbed a towel out of my bag and went into the
station bathroom. I used the sink to wash and towel to clean up a bit
before returning to the bus.
We got back on the bus. She put her book away and seemed to want to talk.
I saw a few people turn on their personal lights and I figured they wanted
to read.
"Did you live in the wrestling house?" she asked me.
My eyes widened as I answered, "Oh, no! Never that. I knew better than
that without being told."
"Yeah, I've been there. But it is better than the softball house. I went
to a party there. It's disgusting." She wrinkled her nose at the last
part.
I nodded in agreement. I had been to a party at one of the sports houses
and decided against going to any other.
"You don't hang out with the rest of the jocks do you?" I shook my head.
"You don't want to talk do you?"
"Not about this kinda stuff."
"Well, then what kinda stuff do you want to talk about?"
I thought about it for a minute. "Fuck, I wish I knew."
"How about back to question and answer?"
"Only if you have to answer the same question, and vice versa?"
"Okay. You go first."
I thought about it and decided I might as well stick my hand in the fire.
"Did you leave anybody behind when you went away to college?"
She shook her head no. "And you?"
"Nope. Your turn." I sat up knowing it would eventually get interesting.
I was wrong. It got interesting immediately.
"What's the one thing you wish you could have done, but didn't get to do?"
she asked.
"Sex!"
She slapped my arm.
"Let me think."
I started laughing at the first thing that entered my mind.
"What?"
"All right, when I was a kid I saw this college movie. It was one of the
first times I ever saw a naked woman, too."
She rolled her eyes.
"You asked."
She motioned me to continue.
"Anyway, the first nude scene was when the people in the movie were
playing strip poker."
She looked like she wanted to laugh.
"So I wish I had played some college strip poker."
She looked at me and waited.
I tried to wait her out, but it was not going to happen.
I stood up and reached into the front pouch of my backpack. I pulled out a
deck of cards. She took it out of my hands. It was clearly marked with
black marker labeling it "The Official College Strip Poker Deck."
She held it up and looked at me.
"They're marked," I admitted.
She giggled, "But everybody bets the same thing in strip poker. It's
winner take all. There is no betting or bluffing. Knowing what cards they
have won't help."
"I didn't know that then," I hissed.
She laughed.
She opened the deck, pulled the cards out, and started shuffling them. She
was studying me as she played the cards. I was absorbed with her eyes, the
cards, her hands manipulating the cards.
"Okay."
"Okay, what?" I said cautiously.
"Grades aren't official for another two days, right?" she asked.
"Umm, yeah," I answered in extreme confusion.
"So our freshman year isn't over, right?"
"Technically, no. It's not over until we get the official credit."
"Okay. New game."
I tensed up expecting a big one.
"I fulfill one unlived freshman fantasy, and you help me fulfill one of
mine."
My heart stopped. "What fantasy?"
"Oh, no!" she shook the deck at me. "Trust. I trust you in the card game
and you trust me there. Fair trade."
"How far does the game go?" I said. I tried to shift my lower body to
remove the discomfort in my groin.
"Until there's a winner."
"And yours?"
"Until there's a winner."
I did not know where it was going but I knew I wanted to be along for the
ride. "Okay"
"Not poker, though. Too complicated and uncomfortable to play."
"You do realize we're on a bus," I said.
"We have a blanket," she said calmly, "plus, I'm wearing a sports bra. It
will just look like I'm getting comfortable at that point."
"You could be naked."
"So one of us needs the blanket and the other doesn't. What's the big
deal?"
I nodded, still wary. I stuck my head over the chairs to look around. For
the most part, everyone seemed to be asleep. I turned off her personal
light and pointed mine towards the window. We would be somewhat shadowed
at least.
"Blackjack is going to have to be the game," she informed me in a
professional tone. "But first we have to even out the number of games each
person can lose."
I nodded.
"Okay, shorts is one."
I nodded.
"Panties for me, briefs or shorts for you," she looked at me.
"Tighty-whiteys," I said.
She smiled and continued, "Bra, t-shirt."
"Okay, t-shirt for me, so you get to keep one sock. One sock for me, and
you get to keep the other sock. That makes it an even five items to lose.
At most we have to play nine games before one of us is nekkid."
I nodded.
She started taking off her sneakers, so I removed mine.
She took off one sock. She extended her foot out to me and wiggled her
toes. "You like?"
I assumed she was talking about the color of her toenails. I nodded.
She settled back in, sitting yoga-style, facing me. She moved in tight so
that no part of her showed down the aisle.
She shuffled the deck into four piles between us, every now and then
looking at a card. She shuffled two piles together and then the other two,
finally combining the two new piles.
"We'll shuffle after every deal, okay?"
I shrugged an OK. "Hmm, who's the house?"
She stopped shuffling. "We can either switch or call draws even and
re-deal."
"Switch," I said. "Make this go faster. You can deal, though."
She smiled again.
She dealt out the cards.
I had a fiver and a deuce.
"Hmmm, is five cards an automatic victory against the house?"
"Of course."
I asked for another card.
An ace.
I thought about that 18 but didn't know if I wanted to win the first hand.
I shrugged and asked for another card.
A trey.
"21," I said. I smiled comically at her.
She took two more cards and grimaced.
She put the cards between us, leaned back to make sure no one was coming
and shimmied out of her shorts.
I almost swallowed my tongue.
She was wearing a pair of white bikini panties that had only a band of
cloth joining the back and front. She threw the shorts in the corner by me
and reached around and covered herself with my blanket.
"Your turn to be the house," she told me as she shuffled the cards calmly
and dealt the hand.
I took my cards.
A queen and a fiver.
I didn't really know much about strategy, but a fifteen did not seem like
the best thing to stay at. I took a card.
A nine-spot.
She smiled at me and took the cards from my hands.
"Hey, isn't the person who isn't the house supposed to take first?" I
asked.
She shrugged and waved at my shirt.
I took off a sock and put it on top of her pants.
She pouted at me.
She dealt.
It was a close hand but I lost again.
She leaned back and made as if to enjoy the show.
I took off the other sock.
"Coward," she said.
I shrugged.
She lost the next two hands. The first one she removed only her sock, but
by default the next loss was interesting.
She looked down the aisle again and quickly removed her t-shirt and
dropped it on the pile of clothes we were beginning to accumulate.
She was nice. Not nice in that "she's a very nice girl with a great
personality" nice, but nice in that champagne-glass way.
She wrapped the blanket higher up. She did it in a way that covered her
back so you could not see she was undressed from behind, but I could see
her exact state of undress.
I lost the next hand. I took off my shorts, figuring she might want to
share the blanket. She pulled it away from me. She shook her head.
"Come on," I said.
"No. They have to be looking to see you like that. I'm right next to the
aisle."
I reached up and turned off the personal light, washing us in darkness. We
could still see enough to continue the game with help from the small
lights that ran along the floor and roof of the bus.
I lost the next hand too.
I took my t-shirt off, trying to be nonchalant.
I thought I heard an intake of breath.
I relaxed my body for a moment, and started a yawn and an ungodly stretch.
I could feel her eyes on me.
I mean, *physically feel* her attention on different parts of my body.
I started to get hard and stopped my stretch. I sat up, hoping to hide the
fact that I was increasingly turned on by what we were doing.
We played out another hand and I won this time.
I had to remind myself to breathe.
She never broke eye contact. She just dropped the blanket for a moment,
reached behind herself, undid the bra clasp, dropped the cups from her
breasts, ran the straps down her arms, and tossed the bra on the rest of
the clothes.
It crossed my mind while staring at her breasts that with the next hand
one of us would definitely be naked.
Her breasts were pretty. Like the rest of her, soft and just a touch
lighter skinned. She took one deep breath, and I forgot to. I looked up to
see her watching me. I tried to maintain eye contact, but could not. I
just wanted to sit there and stare at her for a good portion of time. Her
nipples were tiny, which had always been my preference in the magazines.
"Last hand," she said.
She leaned back into the aisle again; it pushed her breasts up and
flattened them some. Then she sat back to her original position. I got
harder.
She dealt the cards much slower than any other time.
I looked at the first card.
An ace.
I closed my eyes and prayed.
No such luck, a deuce.
She grimaced at her cards. They were in the way of my view, so I grimaced
at them too.
I took a hit.
A four.
I wondered about sitting on a seventeen. This is probably why I do not
play cards very well. I took another hit. I do not know why. I just took
another hit.
Another four.
I was at eleven with four cards in hand. I smiled deeply. I asked for
another card and her eyes opened wide.
A seven, but I had five cards without going over 21.
She dealt herself a hand and looked at me. I was caught between making the
fact that I was staring be nonchalant or not even making believe and just
unashamedly staring at her.
She collected the cards into a pile and reached over to shove them under
the pile of clothes beside me. She looked at the pile and shook her head.
She picked the pile up and put it on the floor of the bus between us.
She leaned back again to look down the aisle. Meanwhile, my eyes were
glued to her exposed skin. She sat back up looked at me, smiled, and
turned so that she was sitting properly in the seat. She leaned back,
raising her hips of the seat so that her body was almost at a 45-degree
angle from the floor. She put her thumbs under her panties at the hips and
pushed them down just below her crotch. I was staring at her pubic mound,
then she dropped her hips on the chair, sat up, and pulled her panties the
rest of the way off.
She leaned to her side, lifting one butt cheek off the seat. I was just
trying to decide what part of her naked body I wanted to look at.
She had a feminine behind. I do not think I had really met anyone so
utterly feminine in just about every part of her body.
She put her feet up on the seat and turned to face me. I was fighting to
keep eye contact above the neck. I flicked my eyes down and regretted
turning the light off. I wanted to reach up and hit the on switch but held
myself back. The light coming in from the window was adequate to make her
body out in the muted shadows.
She sat somewhere in between the light and dark, waiting for me. I wanted
to do so many things, but sat back.
"Your turn," I said.
She nodded.
"Turn around," she said.
I looked at her quizzically.
"Sit like me, and then turn your back to me."
I brought my legs up, crossed them on the seat, and turned around.
I heard her move toward me. I could feel her close to me.
I could not see what she was doing.
I tried to turn my head to look but her hand was there to block the motion
and to carefully turn my head back.
I could feel she was doing something behind me. I saw her right leg come
over to rest just outside mine and dangle off the seat. She had done it to
be a be able to get closer. I reached down and pulled my briefs off my
hard dick to relieve some of the pressure. It did not help enough.
She put her hands flat on my back. I took a hard breath.
She started to run her palms up and down my back then on my sides down to
my briefs. She ran her hands down to my butt and just touched me with her
fingertips; ran those touches up my back.
She started to touch a portion of my back with her fingerpads, holding the
contact as if she were trying to memorize the feel of the skin. I tried to
stay focused on anything that caught my eyes past the window of the bus. I
could feel the effort she was putting into concentrating.
I sat quietly, slowly gaining a measure of control. The curiosity inherent
in the situation was building.
How far would she take this?
How far did I want this to go?
"Turn around," I heard her say after some more time had passed. I did.
"Lie down the way you were when we fell asleep."
I lay down and she got her feet under her and crouched on the seats as I
changed positions. When I was on my back she crossed one foot over my
thigh and sat down on my leg. I could feel every nerve ending on that leg
that she touched. She did not quite put any weight on the leg, she just
used it to center herself. She reached for the blanket and placed it
around her hips so that it covered me from the mid-thigh down and her
lower body from the view of anyone trying to get into the bathroom. She
left it so that I could see what little the light allowed me to.
She started the same treatment that she had done on my back to the front
of my torso. First, a brisk touching as if letting her hands become
familiar, then that slow inch by inch learning of my skin by her finger
pads. She was concentrating so hard that I did not have to worry about not
staring. I watched as her breasts changed shape when she leaned forward
and then pulled back to run her hands on my abdomen. I studied the minute
changes in the shadows of her breasts as we drove through different
lighting and her own motion moved them.
She finished with my upper body. I was harder than I have ever been in my
life. I could feel the residue of her touch on my skin. She turned around
slowly, crossing one leg over my body, and spinning slowly around, and
crossing a leg over again. She lifted the blanket up and wrapped it around
herself so that it also covered her breasts. Again, she managed it in a
way that left most of what was facing me uncovered. Her back was covered
but I could see her ass. She backed up until she was sitting just above my
crotch.
She started at the very edge where my briefs ended and my thighs were open
to her touch. She put both hands on one thigh and ran them down my leg,
touching what she could. I was caught as she had to bend forward as she
reached lower and lower on my body. I wanted to reach up and feel her skin
but she was in the middle of something I did not really understand. She
was becoming increasingly absorbed by her own actions and I waited to see
where it would take us.
She started that minute study of my legs. A long gentle caress learning
every part of my lower body. She had to stay on her knees bent forward. I
could see her pussy by the dim light. I could smell her arousal
heightening. She continued learning my body inch by inch. She leaned
farther down until she was rubbing my erection with her stomach. I fought
to keep myself under control. She was taking herself off the edge, I just
had to be patient.
After a torturous time she sat up on my abdomen. I brought my hands down
to her hips. I just held them there. She started to run her nails on my
thighs, up to the edge of my briefs and back down.
She leaned forward, crossed a leg over my torso, turned around, crossed a
leg over me again, and sat with my thighs between her knees.
She started to run her fingers on my stomach. I looked down to see my dick
stretching the front of my briefs. She looked down with me and then looked
back at me.
We stared at each other for moments I could not count.
"You know the card games?" she said. She ran a hand from my chest down to
the waist of my briefs, held it there for a second, before bringing her
other hand to pull the waistband off my skin, and reaching with her hand
inside, grasping me by the base and freeing me.
I could not talk, so I nodded. She ran her hand up my length and slowly
rubbed her palm on the tip. She ran her hand down my length again. Then
she released me and started to play with the hair on my balls. My dick was
built along the same dimensions as the rest of me, a little taller than
world average, but very thick. Her eyes drank me in as she squeezed me.
"The cards are marked, Elvis."
I looked up at her as she leaned forward and pushed my briefs down my
legs. She sat up again and, reaching behind her, took them completely off.
She took a firm grip on my dick again, slowly stroking me up and down; not
enough to do much more than hold me at a fine edge of excitement.
"Oh, my God, you're so thick!" she said wonderingly. I closed my eyes as
the feel of her soft skin excited me.
"For the longest time, the only way I could get my dad's attention was to
play cards with him," she said.
She moved forward so that her pussy was just beneath my balls. She kept
stroking me, every now and then running her palm just on the tip or
running a figer pad along the underside of the head.
"I became very good, Elvis."
She tossed her head. It was a move made to capture my attention. I looked
up at her and she held my eyes.
"Good enough to cheat."
I stared at her. Her hand stopped moving on me. She laid my dick down on
my stomach and started to run her finger pads on the underside of it.
"I lost on purpose."
"Why?" I asked as her hand surrounded me again. Her other hand cupped my
ball sac gently and started rubbing it even more gently.
"I wanted to touch you. If I let you win, you'd have me naked so you'd let
me do anything I wanted."
I nodded. I would have let her do anything she wanted anyway.
"Where are those condoms?" she asked as she concentrated on using her
thumb on my dickhead.
"In my backpack."
"Good, sit up."
She got off me. Wrapping the blanket carefully around herself, she stood
up and pulled my backpack from the overhead rack. She dropped on the seat
at her feet. I sat up straight on the seat by the window.
She dropped down into my lap, straddling me. Her hand came down between us
and she took a firm grip on my dick again.
"Get one."
I opened my backpack. It was probably an uncomfortable thing, with her in
my lap keeping me hard by stroking me slowly. I got into it, though, and
pulled out one of the boxes. I ripped the box open and separated one
condom from the rest. I held it up to her.
"Open it."
I ripped it open, and pulled the condom out.
She took it out of my hand and reached between us. I felt the cold
lubricated latex and she placed it on the tip of my dick. She used her
thumb and finger to roll it slowly on me as her other hand held me in
position by the base of my dick. She had to take her time rolling down my
length because of my thickness.
I was standing on the cliff looking down.
She reached to bring my chin up. She got up on her knees and placed me at
the entrance of her pussy. She reached down to share a kiss with me and
tried to sink herself onto me. Her tongue plunged into my mouth. We fought
for control over the kiss until we settled down to just enjoy the taste of
the other person. I let her comfort level dictate how much farther she got
my hard cock into her pussy. Her body began to adjust slowly to me as I
sank deeper and deeper inside her.
She started wriggling on top of me, trying to seat me completely inside
her. Our position was not getting the most out of our bodies. She kept
wriggling, trying to kiss me and take me inside her at the same time. I
planted my feet on the ground and reached with one hand behind me to grab
onto the chair. I wrapped my other arm around her and pulled her toward me
by the small of her back. Then I surged up off the chair and drove myself
completely inside her. She gasped and bit my lip as I filled her as deep
as I could for the first time.
I thanked two things in my head. First, that I was athletic enough to do
what was coming. Secondly, that for some reason a woman on top very rarely
put me over the edge.
I used the leverage that I got from having my feet on the ground and my
hand on the seat to pump in and out of her in that position. It took some
strength and balance, but my hand at the small of her back left her to
enjoy the motion. I pumped into her at first slowly. Dropping my hips, I
held her against my body with my hand, then pumped my dick into her. She
was trying to stop herself from screaming her pleasure. She used my mouth
to muffle every moan of pleasure that I was causing as my hips dropped and
pumped my dick into her pussy. The foreplay had been her touching me; the
first play had been her body adjusting to my thickness. She was ready for
me, and her own excitement circumvented any discomfort.
I felt her nails dig into my shoulder so I sped up. Neck drills. Pumping
my hips with short efficient strokes, driving her relentlessly toward
orgasm. I could feel myself get closer also, but not like her. Her nails
dug into me as I used years of training to lift her weight effortlessly
with my hips. I dropped faster and pushed my dick into her harder than
before. I dropped the speed down but pumped harder. I dropped my hips and
moved powerfully inside her. I dropped again and tried to push through
her. She started trying to move but could not get any leverage.
She kissed me, then bit into my lower lip painfully. I dropped my hips and
surged upwards as hard as I could. She bounced; the upward surge had
worked to toss her up my length, and gravity brought her down, impaling
her weight on me. She came harder than any woman I have ever been with
did. She reached down and bit into my shoulder to keep herself from
screaming; the pain stopped me from coming with her as my body tried to
cope with the pain and the pleasure of the moment. I stopped moving but
she started wriggling her hips powerfully. I lifted my hips of the seat to
allow her the deepest penetration. She kept wriggling on the way down from
the orgasm and continued on the way up to another. She did not weigh
enough to strain me. I had been doing wrestling drills with people heavier
than her since I was ten years old, so I let her use my dick and the
friction on her clit from contact on my body to send her toppling over the
edge again.
She settled down on me. I dropped my hips to the seat but I was painfully
aware that I needed to cum. She rested her forehead on mine, trying to
take deep breaths. We heard someone approaching down the aisle. She looked
up panicked, and reached for the blanket. She wrapped it around us and
tried to look like we were only making out. I started laughing after the
person entered the bathroom. She started laughing also.
"That was scary," she whispered to me.
I lifted my hips and dropped them down. She leaned her head back before
slapping my shoulder. "Stop that!"
"Jess, I NEED to cum, like now," I whispered heatedly.
"Oh, poor baby," she said taking a slow stroke up my dick and an even
slower one coming down.
I did not take the tease very well but waited.
I looked at her calmly as she moved up my dick again, slowly removing
herself from it. At her apex, I pumped up as hard as I dared without
hurting her. She groaned.
"Don't do that," she exclaimed as I lowered us back onto the seat. "I'm
trying, Elvis," she said between breaths. "Haven't you ever heard of
patience?" She moved up my length again and seated herself down firmer
than the last stroke.
She stayed still as the person came out of the bathroom. She started
giggling when it was obvious the person was curious about what we were
doing.
I did not find the pressure in my groin amusing.
The person walked away and she lifted herself off and slowly repenetrated
herself on me. "Are you going to continue just that?" I asked.
"Yes, don't move."
I tried not to.
She continued a slow steady pace of taking me almost completely out of her
and dropping back down into my lap.
Anytime that I tried to pump upwards she would seat herself completely on
me and hold on so that I did not get any movement inside her. I knew that
I could defeat her purpose if I pumped hard enough, but she just looked at
me, daring me to do this her way.
It was a slow torturous climb, with every step toward the cliff being so
slow that almost every part of my body wanted to be a part of the release.
One last time she moved up my length and screwed herself torturously back
on me.
I flipped.
I put my hand on the small of her back and surged up on my feet. She
squealed in surprise as I turned us around and laid her down on the seats.
I barely kept myself inside her during the entire motion. When her back
hit the seat, she surged up with her hips, taking me completely inside
her. I had one foot on the floor and one knee on the seat, with my dick
buried inside her.
I leaned forward a little and she started to circle her hips on me as I
pumped in and out of her with force and speed.
I had had enough of the slow movement.
I pulled out and pumped back in when I was barely half out of her.
I pulled back again more completely and pushed my hips toward her with
more authority. I felt the beginning of another orgasm as she pushed her
hips of the seat and tried to push through me.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down so that my ear was
next to her lips. "I've never come with a man inside me before you! Now
its going to be three times!" she gasped at me as her pussy squeezed me.
I lost what little control I had and pumped in and out of her until the
pressure started at the base of my ball sac and pushed through me.
I pulled back one last time and pumped into her, trying to hold back from
vocalizing the release that was exploding out of my dick. Her orgasm must
have been quick because she started circling her hips on me and squeezing
my dick with her muscles, milking my orgasm for all it was worth. I leaned
down and she accepted my lips on hers. She also accepted the explosion of
sounds from my mouth to hers as I lost my battle to hold it all inside. I
ground my hips into her as she wrapped her arms around me and accepted
everything I had to give her.
We lay like that for a few minutes. I could feel her running her hands on
my back. We could not really see each other but I pulled my head back and
looked into her eyes. We were both bathed in darkness but I could feel the
connection we made. I pulled out of her, took the condom off, and looked
for a place to put it. She laughed as I started looking around, lost for
what to do. She reached beneath her and pulled the wrapper out.
"For now, until one of us gets dressed."
"I don't wanna get dressed," I said, a little petulance in my voice.
"What? Are you planning to do that again?"
I nodded.
"Down, boy. This is a little too uncomfortable for me right now."
"Are you okay?" I asked, worried.
"Yeah, I just haven't done anything like that in a while," she said. She
looked at me for a second and continued, "Or at all."
I smiled at that.
She tried to sit up, so I moved out of her way. She reached for the pile
of clothes and started to nonchalantly hand separate it all.
I still did not want to get dressed, but figured it was for the best. As
soon as I was decent in briefs and shorts, I entered the bathroom to dump
the condom and wrapper.
I stayed there for a few minutes thinking about the whole situation. I'd
had a few sexual experiences in high school. It was almost impossible as a
star athlete not to, but nothing had ever come close to this.
I got out of the bathroom to find her dressed and sitting in the window
seat, staring out. I sat down wanting to say something, but figured maybe
silence was best.
We sat staring out the window until the next stop. We got out and had some
food, still in that silence. I knew she was thinking about something,
probably about us. I let her think.
We got back in the bus. She let me take the window seat. I stared out the
window until I felt her lean against me and fall asleep.
Finally, I fell asleep also.
We did not wake up until my stop. She smiled at me softly as I pulled my
backpack down. She also pulled hers down and followed me out of the bus.
Outside I waited around the luggage and finally had to reach inside to get
mine. I turned around to see her standing by hers.
I walked over to her, noting the location of the cab stand. The owner of
the camp said he would be there all day, but if I could not find him the
keys would be in the mailbox of the cabin I was supposed to be staying in.
I started wondering if this was goodbye.
She watched me as I approached her.
I stood in front of her, waiting. I noticed a car pull up behind her and a
woman who looked like an older version of Jessica looking at us from
inside the car.
I looked at her, then at Jessica. Jessica turned around and waved at the
woman. The woman waved back. "I thought your parents were not going to
pick you up," I stated.
"Well, I sorta fibbed about a few things."
I took a surprised step back. "About what?" I asked.
"Well, I never painted my dorm room," she said smiling at me.
I nodded.
"And Caroline *DID* hook us up. She just didn't tell you I had asked how
you were getting to the camp. Boy, did I love the bus idea."
She picked up her bag and started walking to the car. I took it out of her
hand and walked with her to the car. "I mean, as soon as I heard about you
and that bus ... Let me tell you how the fantasies held me until I got on
it."
I was a lot lost at this point.
The trunk was open, so she pointed towards it. I put the bag inside. The
woman came out of the car and wrapped Jessica in a warm hug. Jessica
hugged back. The woman let go and started staring at me.
"Mom, this is Elvis," Jessica said. "He's working in Daddy's camp. ALL
summer long!"
There was a knowing smile on the woman's lips when she extended her hand
out. I was still confused but shook it carefully. "I've heard a lot about
you, Elvis," she said, obviously holding back laughter. They shared a look
that was as mysterious as everything else that had to do with Jessica had
been so far.
The woman waved at me and got back in the car. Jessica pulled me with her
as she walked over to the passenger door and held it open. She looked at
me for a moment. "Don't forget you promised to pose for me."
I nodded.
She reached up to stroke my chest, down my abdomen, then cupped my groin.
"I've got a whole year's worth of fantasies about you, Elvis."
I smiled.
"I plan to live them all out this summer," she said as she stood on
tiptoes to give me a gentle peck on the lips before getting into the car.
I watched them drive away and thought about the summer and Jessica.
I laughed when it struck me that they could have given me a ride to camp.
Jessica was definitely about to become my favorite kind of cookie.
The End
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