Psiberzerker
08-23-2019, 07:02 PM
I can't help it. I never thought that I'd get lucky doing it. Yeah, I fantasized about it, but seriously? I guess if you roll the dice enough times, you'll eventually get Layed, but I wouldn't bet on it. Of course, you get Busted more often than that, but I was waiting on the bus stop, across the street from the studio when she came out. Chatted with her friends, some friends. Never offered her a ride, but then the Bus rolled up to the light, and she ran over to the street. Looking back, she waved, but stopped before she got to the curb, and waited for a break in traffic.
Holding her duffel bag, with a yoga mat rolled up in the handles, over her shoulder with a purse hanging on the opposite side, but the strap cut across her sports bra, and then she started jogging when the light changed. The bus came around from the turn lane, but I got up before she turned around, in those Yoga Pants. God, I love yoga pants, biker shorts too, but it's a little harder to catch them when they're on wheels. They get more, and more popular every year, but I didn't want to get too hard, and she always stands up by the back doors. Across from them, but if I get on first, then I can take the seat behind her. Stressing the behind, that nice tight hard round toned rump, with the patterned spandex stretched tight over it.
This time it was the blocks. Turned back and forth, diagonally at right angles on a blackground of tiny squares so it looks like a basket weave, but it hugs every curve, and sucks her thighs in so i can see her little bunny tail through the gap. Right under my nose, so it's all I can do to keep from grabbing her by the hips, and burying it in there to shake it all around, but I can't do that. To be honest, I like the red ones with the pink harts, turning every which way in a pattern that barely suggests the curvature of the surfaces they're stretched over, but she doesn't wear those every day.
And she's married, sometimes she taps her ring nervously on the bar, while she hangs on, but I've been meaning to ask her, why don;t you have a seat? Right here, you want to sit in my lap? Little spinner, but I'm not talking about a little girl, she's old enough to be a mother, and with those hips, I wouldn't be surprised, but I tried to get the wife into it. Yeah, why don't you try it with your friends, who knows it might be fun. After 1 class she came back and pronounced it boring. I begged her to give it another try, but I wish I could say I remember when she had a body like that.
She never did, when we met, she was honestly a little bony, and then she never really bounced back from getting pregnant, but it doesn't hurt to look. If only I could be satisfied with that, but here comes my stop, so I pull the cable, and get up before she looks back. Smiles, and then the bus hits the breaks. She sways a little before she catches her balance, and I just have to bent my knees with my cock pointed straight up. "Ooh, sorry."
No I'm not, I just have to pull my shirt back down to cover my bone, and step around her. Hit the door handle as soon as we come to a complete stop, and get off right in front of an alley. That's why this is my stop, it's a short walk abck to the park and ride, to pick up my car, and drive home, after a quick stop back here to.
"Hey."
"Ah shit."
"I see you back there, it's too late." She came around, and grabbed my shirt. "You don't even have it out yet?"
"What?"
"Oh, come on, man! "Oops, sorry?" How many times are you going to accidentally hotdog my buns before you think I catch on? I might look innocent, but I know what a boner feels like. Give me a little credit."
"Yeah?"
"You like my ass?" She turned around. "I work hard to keep it this firm, and you've driven me nuts enough beating around the bush for what, 3 years now?"
"I, uh."
She slipped her hands back, around her hips with her thumbs down the waistband, and shimmied it, so they rolled down, and showed me a little crack.
"I know you're an ass man."
"No, but I. Huh!"
"What?" she turned around. "You have a wife?" She held up her hand, "Yeah, me too."
"Ab, huh?"
She rolled her eyes, "And I know, we don't Need a dick, but it's nice to have one every once in a while, and you've had this."
"Huh!"
"Stuck in my crack so many times I lost count, and now it's stuck in my head."
"Don't uh, I." Can't hold it. "Huh!"
"What the fuck?" She slapped me, "Are you fifteen?"
"No, sorry, I just. Uh!" I reached out, and managed to grab the side of the recycling bin, before my knee gave out.
"Well thanks for costing me a half hour for half a second of handjob, asshole." PK! I looked up at her phone, and she snapped another picture of my face. Backing up. "Are you on the sex offender registry?"
"No, huh! I'm a frotteur."
"What the fuck is that?"
"I can't help it, I get off on touching strangers in public, and you just."
"Triggered it?" Now she's laughing at me, "Oh, that's fucked up!"
"Yeah, tell me about it?"
"So, it's just strangers in public?"
"No, I mean it was, when I was younger, but now it takes someone with a body like your's, and after so many winters, waiting for the weather to get nice enough for you to go out in," I waved my hand, "That."
A pair of cross-trainers, yoga pants, engagement, and wedding set, gym bag, purse, sports bra, sun glasses, and a hair tie. That's it, if she wore any underwear, it would only print through that tight patterned lycra, and I would have seen it. Sometimes I even see a few long curls of pubic hair if I don't stand up before she steps onto the curb.
"Huh, well. See you tomorrow?" She just turned on her heel, and toe, skipped, and jogged off.
I don't even know her name, but that's part of the fetish. Kinda wonder what her wife looks like now, though.
Holding her duffel bag, with a yoga mat rolled up in the handles, over her shoulder with a purse hanging on the opposite side, but the strap cut across her sports bra, and then she started jogging when the light changed. The bus came around from the turn lane, but I got up before she turned around, in those Yoga Pants. God, I love yoga pants, biker shorts too, but it's a little harder to catch them when they're on wheels. They get more, and more popular every year, but I didn't want to get too hard, and she always stands up by the back doors. Across from them, but if I get on first, then I can take the seat behind her. Stressing the behind, that nice tight hard round toned rump, with the patterned spandex stretched tight over it.
This time it was the blocks. Turned back and forth, diagonally at right angles on a blackground of tiny squares so it looks like a basket weave, but it hugs every curve, and sucks her thighs in so i can see her little bunny tail through the gap. Right under my nose, so it's all I can do to keep from grabbing her by the hips, and burying it in there to shake it all around, but I can't do that. To be honest, I like the red ones with the pink harts, turning every which way in a pattern that barely suggests the curvature of the surfaces they're stretched over, but she doesn't wear those every day.
And she's married, sometimes she taps her ring nervously on the bar, while she hangs on, but I've been meaning to ask her, why don;t you have a seat? Right here, you want to sit in my lap? Little spinner, but I'm not talking about a little girl, she's old enough to be a mother, and with those hips, I wouldn't be surprised, but I tried to get the wife into it. Yeah, why don't you try it with your friends, who knows it might be fun. After 1 class she came back and pronounced it boring. I begged her to give it another try, but I wish I could say I remember when she had a body like that.
She never did, when we met, she was honestly a little bony, and then she never really bounced back from getting pregnant, but it doesn't hurt to look. If only I could be satisfied with that, but here comes my stop, so I pull the cable, and get up before she looks back. Smiles, and then the bus hits the breaks. She sways a little before she catches her balance, and I just have to bent my knees with my cock pointed straight up. "Ooh, sorry."
No I'm not, I just have to pull my shirt back down to cover my bone, and step around her. Hit the door handle as soon as we come to a complete stop, and get off right in front of an alley. That's why this is my stop, it's a short walk abck to the park and ride, to pick up my car, and drive home, after a quick stop back here to.
"Hey."
"Ah shit."
"I see you back there, it's too late." She came around, and grabbed my shirt. "You don't even have it out yet?"
"What?"
"Oh, come on, man! "Oops, sorry?" How many times are you going to accidentally hotdog my buns before you think I catch on? I might look innocent, but I know what a boner feels like. Give me a little credit."
"Yeah?"
"You like my ass?" She turned around. "I work hard to keep it this firm, and you've driven me nuts enough beating around the bush for what, 3 years now?"
"I, uh."
She slipped her hands back, around her hips with her thumbs down the waistband, and shimmied it, so they rolled down, and showed me a little crack.
"I know you're an ass man."
"No, but I. Huh!"
"What?" she turned around. "You have a wife?" She held up her hand, "Yeah, me too."
"Ab, huh?"
She rolled her eyes, "And I know, we don't Need a dick, but it's nice to have one every once in a while, and you've had this."
"Huh!"
"Stuck in my crack so many times I lost count, and now it's stuck in my head."
"Don't uh, I." Can't hold it. "Huh!"
"What the fuck?" She slapped me, "Are you fifteen?"
"No, sorry, I just. Uh!" I reached out, and managed to grab the side of the recycling bin, before my knee gave out.
"Well thanks for costing me a half hour for half a second of handjob, asshole." PK! I looked up at her phone, and she snapped another picture of my face. Backing up. "Are you on the sex offender registry?"
"No, huh! I'm a frotteur."
"What the fuck is that?"
"I can't help it, I get off on touching strangers in public, and you just."
"Triggered it?" Now she's laughing at me, "Oh, that's fucked up!"
"Yeah, tell me about it?"
"So, it's just strangers in public?"
"No, I mean it was, when I was younger, but now it takes someone with a body like your's, and after so many winters, waiting for the weather to get nice enough for you to go out in," I waved my hand, "That."
A pair of cross-trainers, yoga pants, engagement, and wedding set, gym bag, purse, sports bra, sun glasses, and a hair tie. That's it, if she wore any underwear, it would only print through that tight patterned lycra, and I would have seen it. Sometimes I even see a few long curls of pubic hair if I don't stand up before she steps onto the curb.
"Huh, well. See you tomorrow?" She just turned on her heel, and toe, skipped, and jogged off.
I don't even know her name, but that's part of the fetish. Kinda wonder what her wife looks like now, though.