Date: Sun, 14 Jan 2007 21:21:46 -0800 (PST) From: Maiyeko Singi Subject: Bus 147 Description: An Asian guy's lust comes to life on the 147 I listened to the slow pulse of Lust as it crept into the room. The door had been sealed with painters' tape and a wet towel but it still found me. It moved across the floor giving rise to the wood like a wave. The force made me trip and stumble backwards into the first bedroom. I was barely fast enough to push the door closed behind me. Immediately the clawing started. The scratching sounded like pleading. The kind of begging that digs into the flesh to draw something out that is not readily given. My intention was to grab a couple of condoms and packs of travel lube when I was stopped cold. In all the excitement I had forgotten about the picture of Stephen that I'd printed from an email he'd sent. My heart pumped my chest full with anxiety. I didn't understand what had happened to us, how Lust had torn things apart so easily. I told myself to focus, that Stephen wasn't coming back. The Lust had consumed him. I turned in panic at the sound of the opening door. Quickly, I fingered and filtered through the contents of the drawer beside the bed searching for what I needed and stuffed my pockets full. Five condoms, I counted. "Does carrying five condoms make me look fat" I wondered. Whatever the feeling was that inched to consume me, I was prepared for anything. The sound and motion of the floor writhing like a body in heat forced me to cut through the bathroom and exit out the connecting door. If I wasn't fast enough I might have missed the last express. My dick had gotten hard, and my ass twitched a little -- that had been close. I needed to fuck someone or blue ball would be my new bitch. Within the beat of a half note I was down the alley running to catch the number 147 which ran non stop to Kevin's apartment in Riverton. He was a sure bet. He was always hungry for my dick, or whatever other part of me he could put in his mouth. The trip only took twenty minutes, but it seemed like an hour with all the activity in my pants. The guy who sat facing the aisle kept stealing glances at the outline of my cock. I pretended not to notice, but it was almost to the point that any willing ass would do, just so long as it came with a penis and matching scrotum. Stephen had the perfect set. In all my history he was one of the few guys I truly felt uninhibited sucking off. It may have had a lot to do with my comfort level since he had demanded from the beginning that we both get HIV test. The end result was a big fat negative for both so I had no concern whenever his dick was in my mouth or elsewhere. It seemed natural, too natural, so much in fact that I wanted the condoms off. The bus whizzed onto the expressway and headed south. The engine hummed in protest as the driver hammered the gas eager to finish his last run for the night. His thighs were thick and worked out. It was almost certain he could crack my small five foot seven frame like a nut. A look at his crotch had revealed either very large balls, a huge black cock, or both. I imagined myself sucking his dick while we sped along. There were only three other people riding, two of them were sleep in the last row, and the one that kept watching me would probably have masturbated. I could almost feel my fingers entangled in the driver's thick pubes and was tempted to start a conversation. I thought instead about the next conversation I would liked to have had with Stephen. I wanted to address the issue of his leaving. The fact actually was that "you didn't just leave, you literally ran!" I wanted to frame it so he'd know exactly how much it hurt to be left standing in the rain outside that playhouse. He ran for the train and left me after one peck on the cheek. Two nights before and for three in a row, his tongue had taken root in my throat. But just like that, something had changed and I wasn't in on exactly who or what that something was. Many nights I sat crying, wondering what was wrong with me. "Why can't I keep a man's attention for longer than three months?" The question fell to no one, the walls didn't answer, my ass didn't hold the answer, nor did my cock. He'd told me that he had something to do, or someone to meet about a job and I just listened to his lies. "Well I guess you are going that way" he pointed west. "I had fun." He'd known I needed to go north also - we had done it so many times before. We would both head north, transfer at Princeton and steal long kisses good night while waiting under the awning of the sandwich shop. When I wasn't going back to his place, a few times we'd let several busses pass before parting. One particular night it was really late and I was bold enough to face him and tickle the tips of my fingers in his bright red pubes. I loved the way he looked naked. His dick appeared as though it emerged from the fires of a volcano. The first time he fucked me it had hurt, but I didn't let on. I wasn't the kind of bottom that did a lot of showcase moaning. Initially he was against my screwing him saying that he was strictly a top. I found out later that that just wasn't true. His previous lover was a guy named Javar that I happened to catch naked at the gym once. Guys all but fell to their knees to worship his thick dark meat. His complexion was smooth and without blemish, part of me immediately became unnerved at the thought of him riding Stephen in stark contrast through all hours of the night. If I ever got the chance to talk to Stephen: I wanted to ask him why he pretended to be so interested in romance when all he truly wanted was a kinky blow job in the shadow of a sandwich shop, catch a movie from time to time, and get fucked by a Mandingo Cock? "I'm OK with that" the sex and a movie thing. Donkey Dick I had a problem with. Stephen was able to fuck with my head because I wanted to hear what he was saying even when his actions said otherwise. From the beginning, right down to my introduction to him through his online profile things were amiss. The eight inch cock, him not really being 35, the old picture from when he actually had visible abs, and him being a strapping top, it was all fiction, and I let myself fall in love with it. I sat lost in that fairy tale past, unaware that lust had found me on the 147. The one guy that had been awake moved to where I was sitting and tried to start a conversation. He'd been drinking and his breath smelled of sour liquor. I couldn't understand what he had said but simply smiled and agreed assuming it was something about the unseasonably warm winter. His eyes were glazed. The desire had him, lust was his shadow. His fingers pawed at the seat and the scratching sounded like begging. I shifted my position as the bus rocked from slamming a pothole. I ignored the guy inflamed with desire next to me and said so in my body language. My mind raced back to memory number five. Particularly, the night I managed to slip my cock into Stephen's "pothole," one of the few times he'd let me do it. We'd been dancing, drinking, and of course he'd been smoking weed which would become a signal that he wanted me to fuck his fuzzy red. For whatever reason (I was nervous, stressed, not in the mood to top, it was my first time fucking him or perhaps intimidated by the idea of his ex boyfriend's massive cock stretching him wide open) I couldn't get an erection. I'd tossed the condom off and was going to call it a night when he requested that I just rub the head against his hole. I did and the warm sensation there caused me to become engorged. "Yeah" he said, "just put it in" and just like that, my erect prick sprang forth and grew into his anxious opening on its own. That was the first time I'd actually popped a woody inside a guy's hole. Words can't describe how good it felt floating free inside him. Stephen was a little high from the pot so the sensation put him over the edge. My heart beat faster than it ever had while we fucked. I was both afraid and excited and almost came after a mere 30 seconds. He realized what we were doing and moved off my dick before I let the juices fly. To my surprise he turned around as I pretended to drop an invisible condom and started licking my balls while he jacked off. My breathing remained heavy. I started to stroke my erection which was wet from the secretions of his bowels. We both came in syncopation. I was lying back, him on all fours bucking and arching his body, his head fell between my thighs and I shot cum on the side of his face while he painted my leg a beat after. It was the best fifteen seconds of my life. Afterwards we lay there and chatted about nothing. The next morning he asked if I'd fucked him without a rubber and I didn't know what to say. "Why the fuck did we get tested then?" I should have protested but did not. The irony was that he had no problem with it the night before. Part of me wondered if perhaps his concern was not for his own safety, but mine. "What had he done" was the prominent question in my mind all that week. Things of course got better and we were in a loving, trusting, monogamous relationship from all outward appearances. Two months later, he left me standing in the rain for no apparent reason other than things were going perfectly. The bus stopped at the corner of King Drive and I exited the back and walked fast in the direction of Kevin's apartment, almost running in fact. The older guy with the stale alcohol on his breath started to follow me but stayed on the bus when I didn't wait up. His lust leaped from the physical body and trailed after me. The trees dripped sap and pollen in its wake and the air turned hot and intimate like a small room. I kept moving forward trying not to arouse suspicion from anyone who might have been up at that hour looking out a window. The last thing I needed was for someone to call the cops wondering why some Asian man was running through the streets of the Riverton screaming something about Lust hot on his tail. "Why no officer, I wasn't running from some big Black man - I was in fact chasing one!" Imagine that on the evening news `Black man fucked by GAM. According to witnesses, he was trying to drown the memory of an ex in the beds of strange African American males.' When I got to the door Kevin opened it immediately even though he was half asleep. He had on the Tokyo boxers that I had bought for him a few weeks before. I got them because he always liked to sleep in briefs and I preferred him naked. I figured I could slowly wean him off wearing anything to bed other than his smile, which I especially liked. "Who's chasing you" he laughed and pecked me on the lips. He looked out the door suspiciously not even asking why I had shown up unannounced. That would have never gone over well with Stephen. Kevin closed the door, but the Lust moved fast and sprang into his body. When he turned around his expression of it had changed him to a man with negligible motives. "Coast is clear" he managed with a devilish grin. His black cock was sticking straight out and pointed at me. The word in front read "To kyo" separated by what was one of the sweetest dicks I'd set eyes on. He said "I was actually hoping you'd just show up." The floor moved beneath me and I don't remember either of us taking a step, but we ended up in each others arms, forced by his lust and mine, just as Stephen must have been at that same moment somewhere across town. I wondered if he was winning the war against it. Kevin picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. I rested my head on his strong shoulder and let out a sigh. The longing we both had to be with someone boiled over and my concupiscence took a name. "Kevin" I kissed his name. For the next hour and a half we smooched, touched, rubbed, caressed, hugged, spanked, suckled and fucked. There was not a spot on my body that he had not noticed. His tall strong six foot body seemed to over power mine but in the end he always gave me whatever it was that I needed from him in exactly the way I needed it. When I was ready he rolled onto his stomach and arched his beautiful round ass so that I could enter it. He moaned so sweetly that I wanted to cum immediately, knowing full well that if I did he wouldn't see it as selfish but simply what I'd wanted at the time. I thrust myself into him repeatedly like a march, my rhythm steady, one two, right left, three four^Å He pumped back not in syncopation but matched my beat. Before I came I pulled out and pinched the head of my cock to hold back the jizz. Quickly, I rolled over onto my back and Kevin took the que, grabbed a condom, then lubed up my wanton hole. "I want to cum with you inside me" I whispered. He then kissed me softly on the lips, pushed into what was rightfully his and pounded my gut. It only took a few minutes of his working in me when I realized that I was actually thinking about every inch of him - no one else. I held onto his back feeling the hard muscles work under his soft beautiful skin. He smelled sweet and breathing him in filled my lungs with a heat, not hot like a volcano, but warm like the sun. I kissed him deep, clutched his head to my neck, locked my feet around his hips and squeezed the pleasure he gave. He grunted, I gasped and showcased like a true bottom - we both started to cum. I'd never cried out like that with Stephen. When I opened my eyes, the bed was draining lust, and memory number five was drowning in the vortex. Kevin asked "are you ok?" "I'm fine" I told him. "You just masturbated inside me and I loved it." I laughed after a moment pushing his soft cock out of my body. The head caused me to jerk when it plopped out - we both smiled. For the next fifteen hours that I spent with Kevin, I didn't think of Stephen at all. More so, we caught the 147 back to my place where we spent the next four days sucking, fucking, and enjoying the sites of our own city like tourist being chased by Lust and drowning memories.