The Bus Ride
By Chris Larkin Warner
It's three o'clock on a hot summer afternoon, and I'm waiting in the smelly bus station for my bus to leave. Linda, my best friend, and now my girlfriend, has invited me to come visit her family's summer camp. I've got a six hour bus ride to look forward to and things are not going well. The bus has been delayed and I'm hot. I can feel sweat trickling down my back and under my arms as I drag my backpack around the station, trying to find someone who can tell me where my bus is.
Some old geezer tells my bus is about to leave so I better hustle over to platform 11. I don't know how I missed the announcement, but sure enough the driver is about to shut the door. I fly up the steps, hand the driver my ticket, and then look around for a seat. Nothing. The bus is jammed, I move slowly to the back and see a seat in the last row.
Just as I drop my ass into the seat, the bus lurches and we're on our way. It's then that I realize I left my bag of food back in the terminal. Must have put it down when I was looking for the bus and forgot about it. Damn! I've got a six hour ride and no food.
I'm in such a black mood that I don't notice the woman sitting next to me. Don't notice her for the next 20 minutes as I slowly calm down and realize I'll be alright. But as I jostle my backpack and bump her leg, we finally exchange glances when I apologize for my clumsiness. She's a young woman -- older than me of course -- wearing a blouse and skirt and has shiny blonde hair. A cross dangles around her neck.
I know I must look atrocious to her in my grunge pants, T shirt and no bra, but we pass a few words about how cramped the bus is and then she opens up a bit. Apparently, she's a young mother, but her baby's been sick and in hospital. I tell her that must be awful, but she says the baby's only been gone for a few days and is doing much better.
She's one of those Christian woman, speaking with a lot of "thank the lords" and "God blesses" thrown in here and there when she speaks. I tell her where I'm from and where I'm going. We talk some more and she tells me how having a baby has changed her life, even her figure. "I used to be so small figured," she says, "but now my bust is enormous." She giggles when she says that. And I notice that she does have large boobs.
At some point, I fall asleep and when I awake, it's dark outside and the bus is quiet. I look down the aisle and notice the bus is nearly empty. A few passenger remain up front. Otherwise, it's empty expect for us. The mother says that most of the passengers got off at the last stop. She seems to be happy I'm awake because she immediately starts talking. She complains about the heat. I agree. The air conditioning doesn't seem to be working well.
A moment later, she tells that she feels like she's going to bust. I ask her what she means, and she explains how her breasts have been filling with milk during the ride. "My baby usually feeds three times a day. I expressed my milk this morning, but already I'm filling up again." Worse, all her maternity bras are dirty, so she's wearing one that's too tight.
Blushing, she asks me if I mind her unbuttoning a few buttons to let off the pressure. I tell her it's no problem. I can see she's got one of those lacy bras on. Her boobs look pretty big and I notice her blouse is stretched tight over them.
I figure she's a little embarrassed, so I try not to look too much. I look down at my own boobs. They are the one part of my figure I'm half-way proud of. They're not small like Linda's, but full and round without being too big. For the next 45 minutes, we don't say much. I try not to think about my hunger which is gnawing at me. I hope the ride will end soon. But then the woman starts squirming again.
"Between the heat and the milk, this is getting to be too much," she almost cries out. I see sweat on her forehead and she's grimacing.
"I don't think I can stand this much longer," she continues. "I don't know what to do!"
I feel sorry for her and so I stammer, "is there anything I can do?"
She looks at me with these almost pleading eyes. "I'm so embarrassed to ask, but do you think you could...? It really hurts right now"
I move the bags on the floor over to my seat and kneel in front of her, while the woman unbuttons her blouse and frees one of her large breasts from the bra. The nipple is enormous and brown. I've never seen anything like it. Already there is a drop or two of milk on the tip. My stomach quietly growls as I clasp my mouth to the warm teat and begin sucking.
A surge of milk fills my mouth and I begin swallowing greedily. The milk is warm and slightly sweet. Some of the milk drips out of the side of my mouth, so I put my arm around her waist and hold her closer so as not to lose a drop. At first, I'm sucking fast, but after I get over my initial frenzy of hunger, I slow down and begin to nurse more like a baby, with regular gulps.
I notice that woman has parted her legs slightly to let me in closer to her, so she doesn't have to lean over so much. After several minutes she suddenly stops me and whispers that it's time to switch. She brings forth the other large, swollen breast and I begin drinking again. This time, she clasps her arms around me and holds me tightly to her warm bosom. At the same time, she opens her legs still wider. I realize that her skirt has ridden up (or did she pull it up?) and that my stomach is pressed up against her panties.
She holds me tightly to her breast and I reciprocate, keeping my arms wrapped around her waist. My boobs are pressed snugly against her waist. Then I notice that the mother is breathing more heavily, sighing every once in a while. She's also beginning to rub the crotch of her panties against my stomach. I continue drinking, I'm so hungry. And then, I feel her body shudder, a little spasmodic convulsion of her hips. She lets out a little cry and buries her face in my shoulder and grunts several times. As the flow of milk begins to slow, I feel a growing wet sensation on my T-shirt where the woman's crotch was pressed up against me. For a moment, we remain tightly embraced, her tit still in my mouth.
Almost simultaneously, we both realize the bus is slowing down and turning into a bus terminal. The woman exclaims "oh my lord" and quickly puts her bra back on and buttons up her blouse. "There's my husband," she cries out, grabbing her bag. The mother has a look of contentment and happiness on her face as she gets up. Then, she turns to me and gushes, "thank you, thank you so much!"
I nod and smile, then gather up my belongings. It's my stop too. As I get off, I see the woman leap into her husband's arms. I don't even notice Linda come up and greet me. She squeezes my hand and, when no one is looking, gives me a kiss. After we exchange hellos, she asks me if I'm hungry."
"No," I reply. "I ate on the bus."