When I left the Clinton I was pretty sweaty; it was hot, the pub packed with morons watching TV sports and I'd already done a long day in an anything but air conditioned office.

Outside, it wasn't much better. I needed a shower, but the shower was a bus ride away. Or possibly not: Standing at the bus stop, ten minutes early – this was a rural bus with no respect for timetables – the heavens opened. Total cloudburst. Couldn't actually see the other side of the street. No chance of shelter, what with the rain coming in horizontally. In seconds I was soaked, my T-shirt plastered to my chest, water running in torrents over my jeans and into my trainers. And then the bus arrived.

"Christ, Dave, you look like a drowned rat", laughed the driver, "I should probably charge you extra for carrying all that water around ..."

"Fuck off, Esther", I retorted, wittily, "And lets see if you can get this heap of junk out to Knebbsford sometime tonight?"

Esther and I went way back – well, a bit back, given that she drove this bus and I was – as this evening – usually the only passenger. So I knew that when she wasn't tending to obsolescent public service vehicles she rode large motorbikes, drank considerable quantities of proper cider and kept cats. No-one, after all, is perfect. But she could drive and I was on her bus, heading home. Things were looking up, undoubtedly, but I would really have preferred some heating. To put it mildly, I was freezing.

Sitting as I was in the front passenger seat, Esther noticed that I was shivering a bit. OK, a lot. She said something which was lost in the grinding of gears and a clutch in its death throes. I squelched forward to stand beside her, asked for a replay.

"I was trying to suggest that if you came up here you might get a bit of benefit from the cab heater." She paused, "But actually I think you might be a bit beyond that." She grinned, went on, "Actually, its still a warm night, your problem is just wet clothes. Why not take off the t-shirt at least – you could at least wring it out."

"The t-shirt *at least*?" I looked at her knowingly, shrugged and peeled off the item in question. She was right, it was a definite improvement.

"Hey, nice bod", she said, otherwise occupied with navigating a country road. "Never thought you were one for the gym" Another pause. "Not sure that the t-shirt was the problem, though ... doesn't denim take fucking ages to dry? I'd hate to have you die of hypothermia on my bus – just think of the paperwork."

I was leaning on the door of her cab, watching the side of her face as she drove. There was a slightly wicked twist to her lips and she appeared to be humming, not looking at me at all. I bent down, pulled of my sodden trainers and stood up, peeling down the jeans as I did so. Yep, I was now standing on a bus, currently making its way down a village street in somewhere or the other, and wearing nothing but a pair of damp and quite clingy briefs.

The bus lurched to the right, heading down a side turning – which had never previously featured on the route. I looked at Esther inquiringly but she just shook her head, grinned, and pulled the bus into a farm track, bringing it to a halt in the middle of a copse. She stood up and turned to me.

"Well, I certainly think the new mode of dress is an improvement, but I think you might dry faster if I gave you a bit of a rub." 

I didn't say anything – didn't really need to with my prick making a very obvious show of itself through my pants – just watched as she shrugged off her HV tabard and the jumper beneath, then standing before me in a skirt and a sheer black bra. She reached out and put her hand into my pants, cradling my dick in one hand and pulling damp cotton out of the way in the other. She moaned, slightly, in the back of her throat, knelt on the floor of the bus and started to gently lick me, occasionally just taking the head of my penis in her mouth. I stroked her hair, reached down and pushed the bra straps off her shoulders, causing the bra itself to drop away from her breasts. She had huge dark nipples, areolae almost black in the dim bus light.

I pulled her to her feet and led her to one of the benches, removing the bra and her uniform skirt en route, sitting her down and pulling off tights and panties in a single motion. Her pubic hair was as black as the hair on her head, small pink lips glistening with moisture in its midst. I took my turn to kneel in front of her, nuzzling the inside of her thighs, gradually moving in to the centre, stroking her labia with a finger, bringing my tongue gradually towards her clit. Her breathing was getting deeper, a little ragged. I put a finger inside her, then another, gently fucking her with my hand, just lightly nuzzling her nub. She was moving on the bench, moaning now, the insides of her thighs obviously wet. When I glanced up she was twisting a nipple in her hand, so I took the other in mine and began to both finger fuck and suck her a lot harder. She panted loudly, began to thrust into my face and suddenly jerked, gave a tight little scream and ejaculated about a litre of fluid across the bench and all over me. Shuddered, pushed me away.

"Christ, that was quick," she panted. "Guess I needed that or something." She sat up, still trembling slightly, took my prick in her hands again, grinned. "Now I think I need something else. Got a condom on you, by any chance?" I retrieved one from my wallet, came back down the bus to find her on all fours, tits hanging delightfully beneath her, her bum towards me, pussy lips swollen and obvious among the hair. I did the business with the latex, stood behind her, rubbed the tip of my prick along her crack. She moaned, "Just fuck me, just fuck me, NOW!" 

An offer you can't refuse. She was so wet from her previous orgasm that I slid into her easily, despite the tightness, and began to fuck her, as requested, hard. She shoved right back at me, getting me further and further inside her. Her hand came up and began playing with her clit, stroking my balls at the same time. She was moaning again, grunting at each thrust. She looked back at me, a glazed expression on her face. "Put a finger up my bum, will you? I really need you to do that." I worked a finger in with my still pounding penis, got some lubrication, moved up to her arsehole and inserted it as requested. She froze for a moment, ululated briefly and then started to thrash about beneath me. It was all I could do to hang on, but I kept up a frantic rhythm, feeling her squeezing around me as her climax approached, keeping control of my own with superhuman effort.

She came much more loudly this time, shoving herself so hard back against my dick that I felt she might burst, and again flooded me with juices. This time they were mixed with mine, though, as I finally lost it and filled the condom explosively. I think I might even have passed out for a moment. 

We were sitting side by side on the seat when I came to my senses, Esther gently removing the condom and grinning at me.

"Not sure if that dried you off at all, but it seems to have warmed you up ..."

"Now I need to get this bus back into service ..."

ooo+++ooo+++ooo+++ooo

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