The bus rumbled through the crowded city streets, packed with commuters during the evening rush. Sarah gripped the overhead rail, her body swaying with each jolt. At 28, she was used to these rides home from work—tight pencil skirt hugging her hips, blouse slightly unbuttoned from the heat. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she felt the eyes of strangers occasionally lingering on her curves. Today, though, the air felt thicker, charged with something unspoken.
Across the aisle, Ji-hoon watched her. The 32-year-old Korean businessman had just flown in from Seoul for a conference, his sharp suit tailored to his lean, athletic frame. His black hair was neatly styled, and his dark eyes held a quiet intensity. He noticed her first when she boarded, the way her skirt rode up slightly as she squeezed into the standing space. The bus lurched, pressing bodies closer, and opportunity knocked.
Ji-hoon shifted, his hand brushing against her thigh as he pretended to steady himself. Sarah glanced down, meeting his gaze. He didn’t pull away immediately; instead, his fingers lingered, tracing a light circle on the fabric of her skirt. Her breath caught, a flush creeping up her neck. Who was this man? His almond-shaped eyes locked onto hers, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
“Sorry,” he murmured in a smooth accent, his voice low enough to cut through the hum of the engine. But his hand didn’t move. Sarah’s pulse quickened. She should have stepped back, but the crowd pinned her in place. His touch sent a spark up her leg, warming her core.
The bus hit a pothole, and Ji-hoon used the motion to press closer, his chest grazing her back. Now fully behind her, he leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. “You look tense,” he whispered. “Let me help.” His free hand found her waist, fingers splaying possessively over her hip. Sarah bit her lip, glancing around—no one seemed to notice, lost in their phones or staring out windows.
She felt his hardness growing against her ass, the bulge in his pants unmistakable. Heat pooled between her thighs. “What are you doing?” she hissed, but her voice lacked conviction. Ji-hoon’s hand slid lower, cupping her ass cheek through the skirt, squeezing firmly.
“Making you feel good,” he replied, his lips brushing her earlobe. He nipped it gently, then soothed with his tongue. Sarah’s knees weakened. The risk thrilled her—the public exposure, the anonymity. His other hand ventured under her skirt, fingertips grazing the edge of her panties. She was already damp, her pussy aching for more.
Ji-hoon pressed his cock harder against her, grinding slowly. “You’re wet for me already,” he said, his voice a husky growl. He slipped a finger beneath the lace, finding her slick folds. Sarah stifled a moan as he circled her clit, teasing the swollen nub. The bus swayed, masking their movements.
Emboldened, he pushed her panties aside and slid one finger into her pussy, then two, pumping in rhythm with the vehicle’s bumps. Sarah clenched around him, her walls gripping his digits. “Fuck,” she whispered, her head falling back against his shoulder. He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids.
Ji-hoon’s thumb rubbed her clit in tight circles while he finger-fucked her steadily. Her juices coated his hand, dripping down her thighs. Around them, oblivious passengers chatted or dozed. The thrill of it all pushed her closer to the edge.
“Come for me,” he commanded softly, his free hand covering her mouth to muffle her cries. Sarah shattered, her pussy spasming around his fingers as orgasm ripped through her. She trembled, biting down on his palm to stay quiet.
But he wasn’t done. As the bus slowed for a stop, Ji-hoon withdrew his hand, licking her essence from his fingers with a wicked grin. “Follow me,” he said, stepping off into the dusk. Heart pounding, Sarah did, her body still humming.
They ducked into a nearby alley, the shadows swallowing them. Ji-hoon pinned her against the brick wall, hiking her skirt up to her waist. He unzipped his pants, freeing his thick cock—veined and throbbing, the head glistening with pre-cum. Sarah’s mouth watered at the sight.
He lifted her leg, hooking it over his hip, and thrust into her in one smooth motion. Her pussy stretched around his girth, welcoming every inch. “So tight,” he groaned, pounding into her with deep, relentless strokes. Sarah clawed at his back, her nails digging through his shirt.
Ji-hoon fucked her hard, his hips slamming against hers. The alley echoed with the wet slap of skin on skin, her moans mixing with his grunts. He captured her lips in a bruising kiss, tongue invading her mouth as he drove deeper.
“Turn around,” he ordered, spinning her to face the wall. Sarah braced her hands on the rough surface, arching her back. He entered her from behind, one hand fisting her hair, the other gripping her hip. His cock hit her cervix with each powerful thrust, building her toward another climax.
“I’m going to fill you up,” he panted, his pace frantic. Sarah pushed back, meeting him thrust for thrust. Her pussy clenched, and she came again, screaming his name—Ji-hoon—as waves of pleasure crashed over her.
He followed seconds later, burying himself to the hilt and pumping hot cum deep inside her. Rope after rope flooded her, spilling out around his cock as he slowed, grinding out the last of it.
They stayed like that, breathless, until the distant rumble of the next bus pulled them apart. Ji-hoon tucked himself away, straightening his suit. “Until next time,” he said with a wink, vanishing into the crowd.
Sarah leaned against the wall, skirt disheveled, cum trickling down her leg. She smiled, already craving the ride home tomorrow.
Related Posts
