The squealing windscreen wipers on the bus, slightly out of sync, one completing seven cycles to the other's six. Condensation streaking down my windo..., collecting in the rubber seal then sloshing out whenever the bus slowed, accelerated or stopped. I was cold, my polyester cardigan, short cotton dress, insignificant shoes and soggy tights no protection against the autumn's chill. Squeezing his hand, I rested my cheek against his shoulder, savouring his heat where the narrow velour seat pressed. Its happening again. My second find and im here with a friend who i cant get to leave my side for a minute so i can collect this amazing find. I then grab them both and come up with a story about gluing it to a friends car as a prank. I shoved that bra and panty into my deep pocket with a hard on laughing so hard and we kept walking. In the back of my head im saying to myself who cares. This is now mine. Someone must have cheated on their wife and threw it out the window. I am just cleaning up. I didn't have to concentrate to bring on an orgasm. With Paul I always have to concentrate, to force the orgasm. With this stranger the orgasm happens and I don't even need to think about it, spontaneous, doing what it should to my body without recourse to my mind, leaving my mind free for other things. How weird is that? Or is that how it should be?As I pondered these questions I understood that the reason I was even thinking about it was because I was cumming.This magnificent man has made me. With deft fingers, he pulled her thong out of the way and exposed her pretty, naked pussy. She was creaming thickly, little rivulets of her juice beginning to slide down her slit to the dark crevasse of her ass. John blew softly on her pink swollen lips and watched her muscles clench in response. Then he gave into the raging desire in his head and ran his tongue along her wet slit. Allie arched her back off the bed and called out his name, grasping handfuls of the coverlet tightly. John loved.
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