Bus Stop

The Consensual Stalker

He had told her she might be "seeing" him today. Now, there she was, sitting at the bus stop, reading a magazine, seeming completely engrossed. He wondered if she was with the other woman sitting on the bench, obviously older, perhaps her mother, or aunt? He took the bus schedule out of his pocket, looked at his watch, and noted he had about five minutes until the bus arrived.

He stood behind her for a minute, just observing, looking like just another person waiting for the bus, but very busy observing his surroundings, the other people around, the traffic, pedestrians. Yes, this was as good a setting as any other for today's adventure. He leaned forward slightly and spoke her name, no response.

"Hello, how are you today?" Still no reaction. He leaned slightly to the right and noticed the wires running from her purse up to her head, ahhh, probably an iPod. A very busy girl, reading, listening, to music? No movement, no bench dancing, perhaps an audio book. Obviously it was loud enough that she was oblivious to noise around her. He leaned down behind her ear, put his hand on top of her head, and spoke firmly into her ear, "Be still, it is me." He felt her startled reaction, but she seemed to understand and raised her head from her attention to the magazine.

His large hand gripped her head and held her steady as he removed the right ear bud. "Better." he said. "It is good to see you, I have missed you." No reaction, stunned silence? He moved his hand on her head, stroking her hair, tangling his fingers in her curls.

"Are you ready for your next lesson?" He felt more than saw her nod her head, and also felt a slight tensing, and maybe a change in her breathing. "Good girl."

Her hair had grown since they were last together and was falling down over her shoulders, obscuring his view. He combed his fingers through her hair and tucked it back behind her ear, improving his view over her shoulder, down the front of her body. Now he could see her breasts heaving, long, deep, slow breaths. He could see her swollen and erect nipple pressing against her shirt, so large and responsive that even her bra could not restrain it.

He placed his mouth close to her ear, "I am surprised you are wearing a skirt today, but it is lovely. You have very nice legs. Knowing you would see me today, did you choose that skirt for me?"

She nodded her head, yes.

"It is quite short, and revealing. Cross your legs for me." She moved to cross them, but he said, "The other way, left over right." She shuffled and moved her legs as he instructed.

"I can nearly see your panties when your legs are crossed like that. You are wearing panties?"

She nodded her head again.

"I hope they are lace fringed bikinis like you wore in the book store?"

Yes, she nodded.

"The same pair, especially for me?" She nodded, and sighed a deep breath. He smiled to himself, recognizing how thoroughly she was responding to him, consciously dressing to appeal, charming.

"Clench your thighs, and rock your upper leg." and she did. he could hear her breathing change after a minute of this.

"Feels good doesn't it?"

He saw her head nod, but also heard a small squeak.

"Squeeze tighter." She gasped again. Her breath was now obviously deeper, quicker. "Snug your leg over even tighter." More indistinguishable noises.

"When the bus arrives, go ahead and get on, and walk to a seat near the back, but keep your gaze down. I am going to sit behind you, and we will continue. When you sit down, adjust your skirt up but do not cross your legs again."

"Here is the bus. Get up, and let's go." And they got onto the bus.

A previous encounter