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From: chaucer48@earthlink.net (Chaucer48)
Subject: {ASSM} GREY HOUND by Geoff Chaucer (MF, Oral, Consenting)
Lines: 357
Date: Wed, 21 Jan 2004 20:10:04 -0500
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     This story is fiction containing graphic description of sex acts.  It is
intended for adults only.  Any resemblence between real people and the
characters herein is purely coincidental.
     This story is copyrighted and may not be reprinted without specific
permission from the author.
     As with all my stories, comment is welcomed.

                               Geoff Chaucer


                                                 GREYHOUND


     When I first saw him I felt the little tingle just below the elastic of my
panties that told me I wanted him.  I wanted  to feel his fingers probe between
the swelling, ginger fringed  outer lips of my pussy to stroke my clit; to
taste his lips  with the tip of my tongue; to know the aroma of his pubic hair;
to feel the round knob of his maleness both in my mouth and in my pussy.  
     I was waiting in the dusk for a Greyhound bus to take me home from college
and when I looked up at the sound of the bus there he was looking at me through
the misty bus window.  His hair was dark and a little too long; his eyes were
sharp but touched with sadness and that is a combination that is deadly.  When
our eyes met he smiled admiringly, but it was a smile without hope.  I get that
look a lot.  Male eyes run over me, take in my long legs, my shoulder length
red hair, my green eyes, my slender body, and my firm titties, and they want
me, but the next instant those eyes go cloudy with the thought that they can
not have me; that I am too pretty; that I will reject them; that I will call a
cop.  Most times they are right, but some times. . .  
    The bus was not crowded.  There were plenty of seats, but I made my way
down the aisle, dragging my bag, to the seat beside him and I stood there for a
moment letting him get a good look at me.  I gave him a big smile then and ask,
"Is this seat taken?"
     He was caught by surprise.  I could see that he couldn't  believe his
luck, but was cynical enough to wonder why he had jumped so lucky.  "Taken by
you if you want it," he said after a little.
     "Thanks," I said and begin to boost my bag up to the over head rack.
     "Need some help?" he asked.
     "No thanks," I said and pushed the bag up.  The effort and the lift of my
arms caused my skirt to crawl up my thighs, and I could feel his eyes on me. 
It made the tingling increase and expand down from my panty tops to the top of
my mons.  I pushed at the bag and stepped closer to get beneath the weight of
it.  That put my tingling pussy about six inches from his nose.  I wondered if
he could smell the aroma of it as it warmed and dampened.  Probably not, but
the thought made it warm and dampen even more. 
     At last I settled beside him and we made some small talk as the bus rolled
on down the highway.  He was a student too and on his way to the airport to go
to California.
     "I always wanted to go to California," I said.  "I would like to go to the
beach."
     "You'd look great in a bikini." 
     I put a wicked twist into my smile.  "I have a thong bikini," I whispered
and giggled, "but I haven't gotten up the guts to wear it yet."
     He smiled in return and dropped his hand into his lap,  trying to hide a
growing hard on.  I made a point of looking at his fly and when he saw the
direction of my eyes he blushed, but the lump in his jeans got harder to hide. 
I thought about saying something about it, or maybe just reaching out and
putting my hand on it, but that kind of thing scares some guys, no matter how
they deny it, and I didn't want to scare this one.  
     After a little more talk I decided to let him stew and  think about my
thong bikini.  I pulled a book out of my purse and began to read.  It is FEAR
OF FLYING and I chuckled a little as I read.  He asked why.
     "The 'Zipless Fuck'" I answered and laughed at the look on his face.
     "What's that?" he asked.
     "It's where two strangers meet and make love and separate without ever
even knowing each others names."
     "Well, that's interesting.  You ever done it?"
     "No," I told him, though I had.
     "Would you consider doing it?"
     I shrugged and made sure my hair draped over my face a little.  "Depends
on the guy."
     "Ah," he said and shut up.  I expected him to pursue the subject, but he
didn't, so I went back to reading.
     It was growing dark and I tried to flip on the reading light, but it
didn't work so I put the book away and let the back of my seat down its three
inches that are supposed to make you more comfortable and closed my eyes.  I
was disappointed and frustrated that my seat mate hadn't risen to the bait, but
it was still a long way to Memphis.  I let my knees fall open little by little
as I pretended to go to sleep.  Through my slightly open eye lids I could see
him considering, so I let my knees fall open a little more, but I couldn't open
my legs a lot more and still pretend it was accidental. . . . 
     . . . And then I felt the first gentle touch of his hand on my knee.  It
was just a brush that could have been accidental,  but he left it there against
the outside of my right knee for a little while to see if I was going to
suddenly wake up, or scream, or call the driver or what, but I didn't do
anything. After a little he moved his hand inside my thigh and up under my
skirt a little.  His fingers were warm through the nylon of my stockings, and
his fingernail burshing up and down the material against my skin sent a chill
up my leg.  The electricity of his touch made my pussy wet.  The crotch of my
panties was getting flooded.  I could hardly wait for his fingers to reach it,
to stroke the soaking Vee with my pussy  beneath.
     He caressed a little higher.  He was probably expecting panty hose, but he
was going to find the top of my high reach stocking in another inch or two, and
when his fingers slipped from the rough weave of the nylon top onto the silky
flesh of my thigh he exhaled as though I had just touched the tip of my tongue
to the tip of his maleness.  It was all I could do to keep my eyes closed and
my hips still.
     The feel of my flesh made him bolder and he slid his hand all the way up
to my crotch.  My panties were already sticky with desire.  If he hadn't known
I was faking sleep before he certainly did now, so I opened my eyes and looked
into his.
     Surprise at being caught with his hand almost down a strange ladies
panties stopped him dead.  The soaked crotch of my panties  told him I didn't
exactly hate what he was doing, but my open  eyes didn't exactly reassure him
either.  He did not know whether to pull his hand away or push his finger under
the lacy elastic  leg opening and into my pussy.
     I smiled and brushed his lips with mine, then dropped my  hand into his
lap.  I had to push his hand out of the way to  get my finger onto the lump in
his pants.  I squeezed gently and his breath caught with the pressure.  
    I straightened up a little to check if anyone had noticed what we were
doing.  No one was near us.  The bus was dark except for one reading light
toward the front.  I reached for the waist of his jeans and found that he
wasn't wearing a belt.  It was easy to unbutton the button and pull down his
zipper.  His manhood was straining against the white jockey shorts so hard I
was afraid I might hurt him getting it free.  The heat of it radiated up into
my hand and made my nipples harden in sympathy.  My thighs were slippery with
the honey of love.  His fingers stroked my flesh as if coated with oil.   
     I pushed my hand inside the elastic waist of his shorts. His pubic hair
was not wiry but soft.  It tickled my palm as I pushed passed it and my finger
tips touched the place where his maleness connected.  I caught my breath at the
thickness  of it.  The heat and hardness of it radiated up my arm and made my
mouth tingle.  My tongue had the copper taste of anticipation upon it.  With my
other hand I pulled the waist band open  and lifted his straining masculus
free.  The sight of his aching, beautiful, circumcised virility, and his
fingers sliding between the lips of my pussy made my breath catch.  He stroked
from the top of my pubic triangle down between the lips, stopping for a breath
at my swelling clitty.  I clamped my teeth on my lip to stop the moan that was
in my throat from escaping.  A flickering image swept through my thoughts; my
hands tangled in his dark hair, pulling his face tighter into my femininity as
my hips jumped forward to meet his pointed tongue.
     I made a loose tube of my fingers and stroked slowly from the scarlet knob
of his member down to its nest of curls.   The stroke distracted him from my
little nubbin.  His fingers  stopped, but my sensitive inner flower felt them
tremble.  His  proud tower throbbed in my hand and swelled more.  With a gentle
squeeze I stroked back toward the tip.  He closed his eyes and  his lips opened
in a silent moan.
     My stroke squeezed a crystalline drop from his maleness.  I smiled, then
leaned over and touched my tongue to the slit.  The salty slippery taste of it
made a pang of sexual hunger  race from the tip of my tongue up and down my
body.  I curled my tongue around the swollen head, and spiraled it down to his
glans.  His hips thrust up, pushing him deeper into my mouth, but I had been
ready for that, and when it came I tightened my lips and pressed my tongue
against the underside ridge and drew my mouth all the way back up to the tip. 
The rhythmic spasms that meant he was close to spending his silvery essence in
my mouth began and I pulled away before they could grow too strong.
     "Oh God!" he said.  "Why did you stop?"
     "Because I want more.   I want to lick your nipples and put my tongue into
that little place right where your balls  fold down.  The place where the root
of your manhood is?"
      He blinked and swallowed.  I smiled.
     "I want to push my finger into you as I tickle your maleness with my
tongue.  And I want you to have your face where your fingers are now.  I want
to run my fingers through your hair while you taste the love honey soaked into
my panties,  and put the tip of your tongue so deep into me that I lose control
of myself and pee in your mouth.  You understand?"
     "A 'Zipless Fuck'?" 
     "Yes.  Zipless."
     "I understand," he said.

     My sister was out of town so I took him to her house.
     "I have to call California," he said when we got there.  "They are
expecting me.  I'll reverse the charges."
     "All right.  The phone is on that table."
     He went to it, sat in the chair beside it, and dialed the Operator, but
hardly took his eyes off me. 
     I stood a few feet away and began unbuttoning my blouse.  His eyes sparked
with wanting as he saw that my nipples were  hard and poked like baby finger
tips against the soft silk of my camisole.  I ran my fingers around the points
feeling the smoothness of the silk and the electricity of my own touch.  I
pinched my nipples and felt the pressure deep beneath my Vee of fine red pubic
hair.  It gave me an idea.  I unbuttoned my skirt and let it fall to the floor.
 I was left standing before him wearing white camisole, light blue bikini
panties stained  several shades darker between my legs, and smoke colored high
reach stockings.  He licked his lips as his eyes ran up and down my body.  I
smiled.  
     The Operator put his call through.
     I stepped closer.  His nose was on a level with my navel.  His eyes went
to the darker stain of my panties as he talked  and he licked his lips again.  
     I lifted my right leg and put my foot upon the table beside  the phone,
and tilted my pelvis so that my wet, aromatic panties  were only an inch from
his mouth.  The warm exhalation of his breath as he talked caressed and cooled
the damp inside of my  thigh.
     He hung up the phone and, in one fluid movement brought his  hands up
behind my bottom, clutched it, and pulled my pussy hard against his mouth.  He
bit gently into the fleshy swell  of it then licked the soaked triangle of my
panties.
     "Oh it tastes so good!" he said.  "Just the smell of it almost makes me
cum."
     I laughed deep in my throat and dropped my foot to the floor.  "Then you
had better stop that," I said.  "Come along  with me."  I pulled him to his
feet.
     His hands slid up my bottom and under the back of my camisole.  He pulled
me tight against his body and the pressure of it, the hardness of his muscles
as well as the hardness of his manhood, made my knees feel weak.  I wanted to
fall onto my back there on the floor beside the telephone and feel his  iron
masculus driving into me.
     He felt my knees begin to buckle and scooped me up in his arms.  "Where?"
he asked.
     "There," I said and pointed to the bedroom.
     He placed me gently on the bed and brought his hands up from my back to my
titties, lifting my camisole with a flip of his wrists, and when he saw my
pointed pink nipples, just a little darker than the surrounding flesh he let
out a sigh. After a moment of admiring them he gently stroked his hands over
them, not tweaking or pinching, but stroking so that the pointy sensitivity of
them made little circles in the palms of his hands.  
     "Take off your clothes," I said.  "I want to see you all hard and
straining."
     He smiled and stepped back.  He kicked off his shoes then began
unbuttoning his shirt slowly, like a stripper.  His chest was broad, but not
like a weight lifter.  The muscles were well defined but their lines were
blurred by masculine hair which started thick between and above his chest
muscles and thinned toward the sides.  A line of hair ran down the center of
his belly and plunged beneath the top of his jeans.  He flipped his shirt away
and began unbuttoning his jeans.
     I twirled my fingers around my nipples as I watched him strip and when he
began slipping his jeans down I slid my right hand down my tummy and under my
panty top.  The feel of my damp pubic hair against my hand made me pull my
knees up so that my finger tip could reach my clitty.  I began flicking the
hard little nub which had swollen out of its nest and felt the pulsing,
clenching of my muscles as a climax approached. 
     He stopped to watch me play with myself still wearing his jockey shorts
which were straining to keep his swollen cock restrained. 
     "Don't stop," I said.  "I want to see you naked.  Quick.  Quick.  I want
to see you naked when I come."
     He pulled his briefs down, kicked them away and stood with legs slightly
apart.  His cock shaft was red and the head of it was purple.  His balls were
drawn up tight into the thick  curls of his pubic hair behind the extension of
his dick which bobbed and pulsed with desire.  Once again there was a
crystalline drop forming at the end.  "Touch it," I said.  "Stroke yourself."
     "I'll come if I stroke much," he said, sliding his circled fingers from
the head down to the base.
     "Just make sure you squirt on me, then I'll let you lick  it off."
     "Oh my God," He groaned and stroked himself again.
     The groan and sight of his throbbing were enough to drive me over the top.
 I could not keep my eyes from closing with the intensity of the pleasure, and
that made me miss the first spasm of his release, but I felt the spat of his
cream between my titties and opened my eyes to see him kneeling between my
knees stroking himself.  His thick silvery cum fountained in repeated jets,
most of it falling on my tummy, but some squirting so hard that some drops
reached my face.
     I still twiddled my clit and sight and feel of his warm  gobs of cum
falling onto my body, and the taste of some that had squirted onto my lips made
me climax yet again.
     Without even a breath passing he grabbed my panties by the waist band and
tore them from my body.  His eyes were blaze filled points of wanting which
stabbed my pussy.  My pubic hair was soaked and plastered to my flesh in dark
red ringlets.  With my legs open as far as possible the lips were open so that
his eyes could see deep into me.  My clitty was swollen and protruding like a
scale model of the still ridgid dick which bobbed between his legs.
     "Taste it," I commanded.
     He fell to his knees at the foot of the bed and pulled me toward him so
that my bottom was almost off the bed.  I put my heels up on his shoulders and
he put his mouth over my open, dripping sex.  His tongue flicked and darted
over it running from my asshole to the top of my pubic hair.  He nibbled and
nipped with his teeth on the fleshy swelling of my outer pussy lips and stroked
and sucked at my bright red pouting inner lips.  The swelling, shivering,
clenching spasms of climax crashed through me.  He held my thighs hard so as to
keep me tight against his mouth while the explosion  racked me and made my hips
hump wildly, but when the spasms began to subside he didn't release me. 
Instead he began to lick my body, stopping at each glob of his cum that lay on
my tummy and titties and licking up each of those cloudy white splots as though
they were vanilla pudding.
     When his mouth reached my mouth he ran his tongue over my lips and then
the point of it darted in to duel with my tongue.  The taste of his cum and the
taste of my love honey  were mixed on his mouth and the taste made my hips
begin to jump against him.  My legs lifted and locked around his waist.  He
reached down and slipped his thick cock into me.  It was a tight fit and the
ridge of flesh just behind the head brushed that corduroy ridge inside me that
is called the G spot.  I screamed with the explosive pleasure of it and kept
screaming as he drove himself into me over and over and over.  I could feel the
pounding of his cock against the back of my womb; the thump of his pelvis
against mine; the slap of his balls against the cheeks of my bottom.
     After what could have been an hour or a few moments of his pounding into
me his cock suddenly swelled yet larger and his whole body tensed in the
embrace of my arms and legs.  Rhythmic swelling, clenching, spurting!  His warm
liquid essence was like ocean waves crashing inside me.  He cried out with each
geyser, and my pussy clenched to echo each spasm as my own orgasm  racked my
body.
     His back arched like a man in seizure with the last spurt  and he
collapsed on to me as the tide of pleasure eased.  It frightened me, but he was
so in tune with me that he felt my prickle of fear and lifted his weight off me
onto his elbows and knees, but didn't pull his still stiff, but now shrinking
manhood out of me.
     "Sorry," he said.  "I didn't mean to scare you. . . it  was just so. . . "
 he stopped, unable to find the word.
     "Yeah, SO!"  I tightened my arms and legs around him.       
     After a moment he pulled himself out of me, and lay on his back beside me.
 Though spent, he still gently caressed me.  He stroked my wet pubic hair and
slippery thighs, some  times letting his finger slide into my womb and even
into my  anus.  I pulled my knees up to make it easier for him.  His maleness,
almost soft now, was shiny and wet with both my juice and his and the way it
looked made me want to taste it.  I  sat up and lifted his cock with my
fingers.  It was sticky/slick and stirred a little at the pressure.
     "I don't know if there's anything left," he said.  
     "I'll find out," I said and took the head of it in my mouth.  The taste
was salty sweet like salt-water taffy, mixed with my own ancient sea musk, and
it made the tightening tingle begin
again deep inside me.
     His cock was still small enough that I could easily take it all in my
mouth so I did.  I slowly drew my tightened lips from the base up the length to
the head, then sucked it back into my mouth as I slid my lips back toward its
base.  As I sucked and stroked I brought my index finger down and, ever  so
slowly, circled it around his balls until they drew up tight. His member was
stiffening again now.  He picked up his knees and opened them so that I could
rub the smooth sensitive area behind his balls.
     I laughed as he opened himself to me.  His cock was still in my mouth and
the vibration of my laugh made him moan.  I slipped it out and said, "Looks
like there is some more after all."
     "Seems like.  Turn around and straddle my mouth."
     "69! My favorite number, " I said and did as he told me.  I put one knee
on each side of his face and he brought his arms around my waist and stroked
his fingers up and down my spine  from the small of my back down between my
bottom cheeks as far as he could reach, and as he stroked with his fingers he
began to stroke with his tongue.  From the top of my slit to my anus he licked
in a steady rhythm.
     I tried to ignore the silken stroke of his tongue and went back to sucking
his now swollen member.  I couldn't take the whole thing in my mouth now, but
continued to go as far down
the shaft as I could without gagging myself, and as I stroked  and sucked I
separated his muscular ass cheeks and exposed the  puckery flower of his anus. 
The whole area was wet and slick with our combined juices and now with the
saliva which leaked from my mouth as I sucked his cock so I had no trouble
slipping my finger into him.  I pushed it in passed the knuckle and began to
circle it and pump it gently in and out.  He tilted his pelvis  up and lifted
his knees higher, never stopping the steady rhythm of his licking.  Though I
was distracted by his maleness and  the control I had over him, it was becoming
harder and harder  to ignore his tongue.  He dropped his arms and brought his
hands  up beneath me to my titties and began stroking and squeezing  them.  He
squeezed hard and pinched the hardened nipples between his fingers and it might
have hurt at some other time, but now the luscious pain only made my pussy
hotter and his tongue strokes more fiery. 
     I sucked harder and plunged my finger deeper into his ass  and suddenly
his wonderful tongue stopped stroking and drove itself into my ass as if to
answer my finger's probing.  At the same time he pinched my nipples hard and
closed his thighs on each side of my head.
      My explosion was completely out of control.  My hips humped his mouth and
I felt the hiss of my liquid gift as it squeezed out of me.
     "Oh yes!" he cried!  "Oh yes!  Pee for me baby!  Pee for me. . . ."
     And his tongue licked madly.
     My orgasm was so huge that I lost all coordination and  could not continue
to suck him, but as soon as my spasms began to recede I began to suck hard and
pump with my finger.  I felt  the clenching around my finger first then the
swelling and twitching of his dick as he came.  There was almost no liquid.  He
had spent most of that earlier, but the clenching, humping,  bucking of his
body was stronger than it had yet been and he  groaned with the pleasure of it.
     I collapsed completely, my face between his legs, my oozing dripping pussy
full in his face.  Neither of us could move; only sleep.

     I took him to the airport the next morning and watched as he walked down
the corridor toward the plane.  He turned before going through the gate and
lifted his hand.  I did not know his name; he did not know mine.  Completely
Zipless -- except that now each time I see a Greyhound bus I feel a tingling
just below the elastic of my panties, and ever time I ride the bus I look for
those sharp, sad eyes and that dark hair that is just a little too long.

                                     THE END

 

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