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Message-ID: <51912asstr$1126404602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Russell Hoisington" <hoisingr@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Mornings on the 35X {Hoisington} (Mf pett solo caution)
Lines: 576
Date: Sat, 10 Sep 2005 22:10:02 -0400
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                    MORNINGS ON THE 35X
                     Russell Hoisington

    
************************************************************

This is an erotic fantasy.  The characters and the
situation are purely imaginary, and this story is *NOT*
intended to be a guide for actual behavior.  Any
similarities between this story and actual people, or
between this story and actual events that you should be
ashamed of, are purely coincidental.  If it is illegal for
you to access and read erotic fiction, or if you don't like
sex stories, then stop now.

This story is copyright 2005 by Russell Hoisington.  You
may post freely to non-commercial (free) sites, or in the
free area of commercial sites.  Please do not remove the
author information or make any changes to this story.  That
does *not* mean that it is in the public domain, nor does
it mean that I give permission for you to use it in spam
advertising.  I reserve the right to determine what is
"spam advertising" by *my* definition, not yours or anyone
else's.

Thank you for your consideration.

Special thanks to Uncle Sky, the Night Hawk, Old Man Ted,
and the Dirty Old Man in North Carolina for being the
preview audience for this one.  If you are one of my
regular readers, please note the caution code.  I cannot
say more without giving away the action.

    
************************************************************ 

     Could you name one thing that had gone right for
Irwin Hoxie in his thirty-six years on this miserable
planet?  Neither could Irwin. Right out of the chute,
before the nurse had wiped the slime off him, he was given
a first name that was even worse than his family name,
along with a set of genes that insured he would grow up
short, scrawny, meek, myopic, and homely.  Worse, he was
given a strong sex drive to go along with those traits that
guaranteed no woman would ever show an interest in him. 
Irwin learned what he could do with his fist at an early
age.  It had been his best friend and only lover for the
past thirty years.  His sole attempt at patronizing a
hooker ended when he slunk away in shame after she started
laughing.

     Irwin was given a thirst for knowledge, countered by
dyslexia and an inability to communicate effectively either
verbally or in writing.  He had no artistic skills, either.
He could no more cut a straight line or nail two boards
together with at a right angle, even with the help of a jig
and clamps, than he could sing Italian opera. His mother
spent her days and nights in a gin bottle  His father
worked two miserable jobs to pay the bills.  On the few
Sundays when his father was home, he mostly found fault
with anything Irwin tried to do, telling the boy how
useless he was and how stupid he was for attempting anything.

     Irwin wanted to learn, but the teachers also were
convinced that he was stupid.  They wasted no time on him,
concentrating instead on the "better" students.  He
repeated the fourth grade and avoided repeating seventh
grade by one point.  He gave up in bitter frustration and
dropped out of school after the eleventh grade.  No longer
caring, he quit trying.

     Irwin tried many different jobs over the years.  Only
the menial ones lasted more than a few months, but never
more than a couple of years.  For the past three weeks he'd
been a day-shift "sanitation engineer" at a large midtown
pediatric medical building.  He swept the floors, mopped
the bathrooms, and cleaned up puke and diaper leaks to
prepare examination rooms for the next patient.  He
couldn't afford the combination of clunker automobile,
gasoline, and insurance, so he rode the bus.  The 35-
Express serviced the bus stop at the end of the block and
made only three other stops before the end of the line
across the street from the Mayfair & Hughes Medical
Building.  It was an express bus, and the stops were
convenient to both his drab apartment and his job site. 
That was as close as Irwin had ever come to a lucky break.

     Until Monday, when the 35X dropped the first stop
after Irwin's and began serving a new stop prior to Irwin's.

                           ~ ~ ~

     Monday morning on the 35X, Irwin was no longer able
to find a seat at the rear of the bus.  People were
standing in the aisle. Irwin's first thought was that his
luck was enjoying its usual downward plunge.  He had to
stand at the back of the line, and the straps were high
enough to be uncomfortable for someone as short as Irwin to
use.

     The bus lurched away from the stop, partially turning
Irwin so that he was facing the rear of the bus.  The last
seat was a five-passenger bench seat that stretched across
the width of the bus. In the center of the bench, facing up
the aisle, sat an attractive, round-cheeked girl with her
hair in ponytails on either side of her head.  Two men
dozed on each side of her.  She wore a checkered red
blouse, a loose white skirt with wide straps that looped
over her shoulders, white knee socks with black patent
leather shoes, and an infectious grin.  She locked her
wide, sparkling brown eyes on the dull brown ones lurking
behind Irwin's thick glasses.  Her grin turned into a broad
smile.

     For a moment, Irwin wondered who was the lucky
beneficiary of the smile.  He stopped breathing when he
realized it was directed at him. He wasn't sure of her age,
but the blouse lay flat across her chest. Just his usual
run of luck: a female who didn't sneer at him, and she was
too young for any practical purposes.  Still, she was
friendly, unlike most people who seemed to take a dislike
to him within five microseconds of laying eyes on him.  He
smiled back and tipped his head forward in greeting.

     The girl's smile widened and she winked.  She glanced
at the sleeping men on either side of her.  She winked at
Irwin again, surveyed the people in front of her, leaning
to one side slightly to see those standing in the aisle
past Irwin, and winked a third time. Her left hand grasped
the hem of her skirt between her knees and pulled it up to
her waist, showing Irwin her white cotton panties with pink
and yellow flowers.  She spread her legs slightly, keeping
the skirt hem at her waist.


     Irwin stared, dumbfounded.  He looked at her eyes. 
She winked yet again and glanced down at her exposed
undergarment as an invitation for Irwin to look as long as
he wanted.  Irwin gaped until the bus slowed for the next
stop and the girl pulled down her skirt. Six people exited,
thirteen boarded.  Irwin let the seven additions to the
aisle stand in front of him, moving back to make room,
until he was two rows in front of her.  When the bus
lurched forward he turned to look at the girl again.

     Once more she surveyed the onlookers and then pulled
her skirt to her waist.  After Irwin had stared at the
cotton-encased treasure for a minute, she ran the tip of
her right forefinger along the hidden slit, indenting the
cloth and giving him an idea of the shape of the creased
mound beneath.  Her smile widened when Irwin involuntarily
licked his lips.  She hooked her right thumb in the elastic
waistband and pulled downward, exposing her hairless young
flesh.

     When Irwin's wide eyes snapped to hers, she again
indicated he should enjoy the view.  He did, memorizing
every aspect of her exposed secret for replay that night in
bed.

     The bus slowed a second time, and she released the
waistband. As it sprang into place, hiding the sweet secret
beneath the printed cotton, she tugged the skirt down into
place and woke the four men. The five of them exited at the
stop, the girl last.  She gave him one last bright smile
and then ran the tip of her tongue over her lips before
exiting.

     There was no way Irwin could wait until he returned
home.  His morning and afternoon break and part of his
lunch period were spent in a stall in the men's room, where
he shot his loads into a toilet bowl.

     He expected that with his luck, she wouldn't be on
the bus when he returned home.  His luck was back to
normal.  She wasn't.  He thought of the morning ride all
the way home and had to hide his erection when he left the
bus.  He rushed to his apartment and frantically stroked
himself to relief.  He masturbated twice more before bedtime.

     When he crawled into bed and turned out the light,
his tool was so hard that it didn't seem possible it had
been beaten into submission six times already.  He
fantasized what it would be like to touch the smoothness,
to taste the nectar within, to thrust his stubby erection
into the slender body through her treasure box.  It was the
most massive orgasm he could remember.  He awoke the next
morning with the vision still in his mind.  He almost
missed the bus because he had to shoot his load into the
bathroom sink before leaving.

                           ~ ~ ~

     Tuesday morning on the 35X, Irwin discovered that
lightning could strike the same place twice, that it was
possible to win the lottery, and that a born loser could
have a good luck streak.  Today she was wearing a white
blouse and a loose, light green skirt with her white knee
socks.  He took the strap at the end of the line of people,
behind a man carrying a fancy leather briefcase, wishing to
take the one farthest back, but fearing that would draw
unwanted attention to himself  It might result in the
cancellation of the floor show.  If a repeat of the
previous day was on her agenda, that is.  The sparkling
smile certainly repeated itself.  He prayed that the rest
would repeat as well.

     She winked again after the bus pulled away and once
more surveyed the surroundings.  Satisfied that nobody else
was looking, she exposed light green cotton panties which
were the same shade as her skirt.  She gave him time to
observe them and then pinched her lower lips between her
right thumb and forefinger, drawing her hand up and down
the twin rolls a few times before once more tracing the
slit with the forefinger.  This time her finger stayed at
the upper end of the depression and started stroking the
erectile tissue of her young clitoris.  Her eyes stayed
open, but took on a dreamy look as the tip of her
forefinger began vibrating.  Before the bus slowed for the
next stop the light green cotton had darkened where the
juices seeped out of her sweet young body and into the cloth.

     She looked disappointed as she pulled the skirt down
and the bus slowed to a stop.  Irwin again moved to the end
of the line of standing people, waited for the bus to begin
moving, and turned to watch the girl.  She surveyed the bus
and once more pulled up her dress, hooked her right thumb
in the waistband of the panties, and pulled downward. 
Smooth, creamy, pinkish-white skin, moist along the seam of
her slit, invited his eyes to another feast.

     With a sly grin she pinned her dress to her abdomen
with her left forearm and pivoted her hand down to place
her index and middle fingers on either side of her slit. 
She spread her legs a little wider and pushed her fingers
outward, exposing the darker pink wetness glistening
within, rolling her hips to show him more of her secret
treasure box.

     Some sour-faced young woman noticed his constant
staring toward the rear of the bus and turned to see what
had his attention.  In an instant the girl had her dress in
place and began making shapes with her hands and drawing
diagrams in the air, as if that were what Irwin was
watching.  The woman frowned at the girl for a moment and
then glared at Irwin, as if accusing him of being a
lecherous old man. Irwin could dispute only the "old" part.


     The bus slowed, and the girl awakened the two men to
either side.  As all five departed, the girl again winked
and smiled at him and caressed her lips with the tip of her
tongue.

                           ~ ~ ~

     Wednesday morning on the 35X, Irwin and his sore cock
were the first to board at his stop.  As he made his way
back through the crowd of standing people, he suddenly
realized that his eagerness would make it difficult to
allow the other boarding passengers to stand in front of
him without seeming too obvious.  He was working out a
solution when he reached the end of the line.  As he did,
one man next to the girl awoke, looked around, and rose to
disembark through the door near the rear.  The girl slid
sideways into his empty space and patted the seat where
she'd been sitting, giving Irwin a conspiratorial smile as
she did so.  Moving to the seat and sitting in a normal,
natural motion instead of at a dead rush was the hardest
thing Irwin had ever experienced in his life, harder even
than the steel rod straining his zipper from within.

     The girl smiled up at him and then looked straight
ahead until the bus began moving.  Once underway she again
looked around and pulled up the hem of her yellow skirt,
exposing white cotton panties printed with colored balloons
that matched those on today's white knee socks.  She again
smiled at him and whispered, "Hi.  I'm Myriam. Wanna have
another look?"

     Irwin prayed that he wouldn't drool on the girl. 
"Yes.  My name's Irwin."

     She giggled as she glanced around, then hooked her
thumb in the waistband and exposed the cleft.  She was
mostly hidden by the seat in front of her.  "I'd sure love
to have some ice cream, but I don't have any money.  Do you
think you could give me a dollar if I let you touch it?"

     Irwin sat in stunned disbelief.  "Sure!"  He fumbled
his billfold out of his back pocket, trying not to wake the
man on his other side, and slid out a dollar bill.  The
girl tucked it down the neck of her red knit blouse, an act
which amused Irwin because she was obviously wearing
nothing beneath it.  Only the waistband of her skirt would
keep it from falling through.

     Nobody was looking.  He ran his fingertips over the
smooth, satiny skin, feeling the puffy firmness of the
folds to either side of her slit.  He ran the tip of his
middle finger along the crease, feeling the slickness of
her moisture here, the sticky dampness of her sweat there. 
Irwin was almost beside himself in lust as he fondled the
most sacred object of his existence.  Sure she was just a
young girl, but as his cousin Stanley the Stud once said,
"Pussy is pussy."  He caressed the smooth, succulent cleft
and wondered what it would be like to lick it.

     "Wait," she whispered and released the panties.  She
pushed his hand up with the freed hand as she tugged the
skirt down with the other.  The bus was slowing for the
next stop.  She watched a standing man with a fancy leather
briefcase turning to follow something out the window.  When
he again faced forward she grinned at Irwin and pinched his
erection between her first two fingers and thumb, feeling
its size and hardness.  "Wow, that's a nice one!" she said,
her eyes wide with surprise.  "You know, for five dollars,
I could let you put your finger inside me and pretend it's
this."

     Five dollars!  Irwin would have to skip lunch if he
parted with his five!  But, how often did he get a chance
to fingerfuck a girl's pussy, even a young one such as....

     What was her name?

     Myriam.

     He decided that if he was lucky he'd get the
opportunity every day, five times a week, six if the girl
rode the bus on Saturdays. He had the billfold out again as
the bus halted and people began boarding and disembarking. 
He palmed the five while he pretend to count his money.  He
kept it hidden in his hand as he replaced the billfold.

     The bus rolled forward.  Irwin and Myriam checked to
see who was watching.  Nobody.  "Okay," she whispered.  The
five followed the one down the neck of her red blouse, and
then her hands were hiking her skirt and pulling away her
panties.  Irwin crossed his body with his opposite arm and
slid the hand into her lap.  He traced the smooth, firm
lips with his fingertips, halting when his middle finger
was over a slick spot.

     "Down a little more," she whispered.  "There! 
Gentle, now."

     The folds parted for his probing middle fingertip. 
The wetness was wonderfully slick, like glycerin, he
decided.  He wiggled his fingertip forward and back,
feeling the small hard clit toward the front and the wet
pit against a solid wall of muscle to the rear. His
fingertip sank into the slick liquid pool.  She was warm,
almost hot, inside.  She gave a small hum of pleasure with
the penetration.

     As his fingertip slid into her snug little vagina he
was surprised to note that the front wall felt somewhat
rigid, like his erection, and ribbed crosswise like a
ladder.  But she was so wet with the silky-slick liquid
that his finger had no difficulty penetrating.  Before he
reached the second knuckle of his finger he bumped into the
end of the tube.  The hard ring of her cervix and the
tightly closed indentation at its point of entry surprised
him, too. He'd expected it to be soft.

     Her aroma reached his nose, causing his erection to
harden further.  If she would just test its thickness one
more time, he could cum immediately.  He gently stirred the
fingertip and fucked it in and out of her body until the
bus approached her exit.

     She gently pushed his arm, and he withdrew his
finger.  "I'm really sorry," she said with sad eyes echoing
the sentiment.  "It felt so awesomely wonderful!  Maybe
you'll have another five dollars for me tomorrow?"

     She brightened when he said he would.  "See you
then!"  She awakened her companions and they left the bus.

     Irwin scooted over next to the window, where he could
sniff her exciting scent on his finger for several seconds.
Then, before others sat down, he popped the finger in his
mouth and discovered the exotic taste of pussy juice.

     At the clinic Irwin rushed to the first men's room
and locked himself in a stall, sniffing his finger and
reliving the sensations in his thoughts while he stroked
his aching rod in a frenzy of need. He came so hard that he
almost fainted.

                           ~ ~ ~

     Thursday morning on the 35X, one man beside Myriam
again departed the bus.  Someone else attempted to take the
seat, but she explained to the man that she was saving it
for her Uncle Irwin, who was standing behind him.  He
looked at Irwin, who thought that the man was about to
argue.  Instead the man shrugged and nodded.  He moved to
the end of the line and reached for a strap.  The man with
the briefcase arrived and took the strap behind him.

     Irwin sat beside Myriam and returned her grin.  "Your
uncle?"

     She shrugged, the round cheeks pushing higher on her
face.  "I thought he'd believe that better," she explained
as she adjusted her red, white, and black plaid knee socks.
"So, am I going to get more ice cream today?"

     Irwin had the five tucked into his shirt pocket.  He
nodded and waited until the bus was moving to pass it to
her.  It disappeared down her green blouse as the plaid
skirt which matched her knee socks rose to expose her pale,
slender thighs and...

     ...no panties!  Irwin almost came at the sight.

     He fingered her until just before the next stop, when
the man with the briefcase again turned to watch something
out the window. He noticed them looking at him and nodded a
greeting before turning to face forward again.  Irwin had
just enough time to stroke her hard little clitoris a few
times, evoking a groan of pleasure as the hand holding her
plaid skirt slid to the seat beside her.  The bus slowed
for the stop.

     Halfway to the next stop Myriam moaned with pleasure.
In a flash, Irwin's thrusting finger was out of her and her
skirt was down.  He pretended to be in the middle of a
conversation with her, emphasizing his points by waving the
hand hovering over her lap, as two people turned to look at
her.  Irwin barely had time for four more strokes inside
the small juicy cylinder before the bus began slowing for
Myriam's stop.  She kissed his cheek before awakening her
companions and debarking.  He couldn't remember the last
time he'd been kissed.

     Irwin carefully wiped his finger with his
handkerchief, hoping to preserve her fragrance throughout
the day.  Several times an hour he removed it and held it
to his nose like a huffing junkie snorting a bag of aerosol
spray.

                           ~ ~ ~

     Friday morning on the 35X, an elderly woman boarded
the bus ahead of him and took the vacated seat next to
Myriam.  The girl flashed him a sympathetic face and then a
look at her sweet naked pussy when she had a chance.  The
woman noticed Irwin was looking at the girl's legs and
stared disapprovingly at him.  He kept his back turned
until the girl exited with her friends.  He glanced back
and saw the woman still staring.  He decided to remain
standing.  When the bus reached his stop at the end of the
route, the woman disembarked behind him and continued to
stare at him until he vanished into the clinic.  She
produced a notepad and scribbled in it.

                           ~ ~ ~

     Saturday morning on the 35X, Irwin was disappointed
to see that Myriam and her companions weren't on the bus.

                           ~ ~ ~

     Sunday was Irwin's day off.  He saw Myriam only in
his fantasies as he stroked himself to release numerous
times.

                           ~ ~ ~

     Monday morning on the 35X, Irwin was elated to find
Myriam in her customary seat, holding a manila envelope in
the lap of her striped skirt.  One man beside her departed
and she scooted over.  He again took her vacated seat. 
Irwin grinned down at her.  She gave him a tight-lipped
smile.  When the bus began moving he looked around and
produced the five from his shirt pocket.

     "I think today you should give me twenty," she
whispered.

     Irwin wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.  "Twenty?"

     "Uh huh," she said, opening the manila envelope and
showing him the photo inside.  It was Myriam, with her red,
white, and black plaid skirt up around her waist, her face
contorted in pleasure, and Irwin with his finger up her
sweet young box. "Twenty and you can have this picture. 
Otherwise, we'll send it to the clinic.  Your boss won't
like having somebody who likes to hurt young girls running
around in a clinic full of them."

     Irwin's head was spinning.  "Hurt them?"

     She gave him a sly grin.  "Sure.  See how much it
hurt me when you jammed your finger in me against my wishes?"

     Against her wishes?  How could it be against her
wishes.  She was holding her skirt up for him.

     No, she wasn't.  Not in that picture.  Her hand was
on the seat beside her.  And it did look more like she was
in pain.  Irwin knew that sexual pleasure and pain
contorted features in almost the same manner; he'd watched
himself masturbate in front of a mirror several times.  His
head was spinning.

     "But, I... I don't have twenty dollars, Myriam."

     The man beside him opened his eyes and locked a
strong hand around Irwin's wrist.  "We'll be happy to take
whatever you have today.  But tomorrow, and every day
afterward, we want twenty.  We'll let you pay the whole
hundred on Monday if you want.  Miss one day and Bill," he
pointed a thumb at the man with the briefcase, who grinned
and nodded as he raised the briefcase with the hidden
camera, "will print another of his pictures, and after that
it will be an extra twenty a day for that one, too.  If you
try to run, we'll send copies of all the pictures to the
Mayfair & Hughes Clinic and the police and the newspapers,
too."  He held out his hand, palm up. "Time's almost up."

     Head reeling, Irwin removed eleven dollars from his
billfold and handed that plus his five over as the bus
began slowing.  Myriam and the three other men on the bench
rose, one stop early.  As the men, including Bill, made
their way to the door, along with someone who Irwin
recognized as the "elderly" woman from Friday, Myriam
kissed his cheek.

      "We have several other busses to catch now," she
giggled.  "See you tomorrow morning, Uncle Irwin."

                                  END

Copyright Russell Hoisington 2005

    
************************************************************

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Russell Hoisington
State of Confusion

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