Date: 16 Jan 2002 06:35:16 -0000
From: Alisha Mathew A <alisha69ksk@rediffmail.com>
Subject: Goa to Bombay by Alisha

			  Goa to Bombay By Alisha

	     Send your comments to alisha69ksk@rediffmail.com

Goa is in its festive mood when Christmas and New Year are celebrated.
There is a gala mood everywhere and the nights are never ending with music,
dance and booze.  When the new year is over people rush to go back to their
places after spending the holidays and there is usually a heavy rush to get
reservations. I had to get back to Bombay to attend an important meeting of
my company. So I have been trying for reservations in trains, but as usual
I did not get any confirmed reservation. Train journeys in India without
reservations are real hell. People would sit on your head and you cannot
utter a word against the hooligans and for a woman traveling alone its very
difficult to travel unreserved. So I decided to go by bus, it was about
15-hour journey to reach Bombay from Panaji capital of Goa. But there were
so many luxury buses plying at night and the charges depending on the
agencies and the number of travelers. During the season they charge
exorbitant rates. I contacted a reputed agency and reserved tickets for the
overnight journey. Sometimes they may issue same seat for two persons and
the travelers have to fight for good seats in the journey. I had made my
reservation on a Volvo bus, which was offering more comfort than any other
buses, and the rate was bit higher. I asked the clerk to book a window seat
for me. He promised to allot one and I left.

I started to Bombay at 8 pm. I had eaten a light dinner with bread and
butter and I did not eat a heavy dinner as it can cause stomach upset. Also
my periods were due to come, and I was keeping pads and praying it not to
happen in the journey. I dressed into a jeans and a loose shirt and a rexin
bag full of clothes and other accessories. I bought two bottles of Bisleri
water and was waiting at the bus counter. There were a lot of people with
luggage talking in all languages and there were about ten buses to start to
Bombay in the night. The agents, conductors, sub agents etc all were making
a mess of the atmosphere. I was anxious about my companion; I prayed it not
to be a man. Most of the men would try to feel us in the bus journeys. If
we did not object in the first time they may take it as our consent and we
can never predict what will happen. The Volvo bus came and travelers began
to rush. The bus was full and my companion had not appeared. If I knew my
companion is a woman I could have started relaxing. But the suspense was
broken at about half an hour later. A Maruti car came and a lady about the
age of 45 with a plump body and slow move alighted. She had some big
baggage including a plastic basket. As she started to come to our bus, I
was relieved. Only my seat was empty so naturally the lady had to be my
companion.

My guess was correct, she came to my seat and gave me the luggage and asked
to put it upper berth for keeping luggages. The son put the plastic basket
near her in the floor. Then he talked to her in some language, which was
not known to me. Soon she gave his son permission to go and he was in a
hurry to drive his car. He did not bother to wave good-bye to her. It
looked her was very happy to see off her, perhaps dump her to Bombay. The
bus did not start till 9 pm and we were already one hour late. The
travelers began to complain and shout, but the driver simply put on a TV
and went away to chew his pan. The TV started dances and songs of Hindi
movies with the hero and heroine gyrates their pelvis along with hundreds
of extras. The selection of songs was fast moving and popular hits. So
nobody complained about the lateness. At last the driver and conductor came
and the bus started. He inspected the tickets and when it was over time was
about 10 pm. He switched of the TV and there was some soft music playing.
People have stopped the murmuring and the bus was moving faster and
reaching the highway.

I looked outside at the paddy fields and passing of electric posts fast
behind us. The bus turned at a bumpy road and we were shaken a bit. The
Volvo was the maximum comfort offering bus. The bump was near the meeting
point of highway and our state road. As soon as the bus touched the highway
it began to increase the speed and the road was straight ahead. My
companion asked in Hindi about my name and destination. She told me that
she had to alight near the suburb of Bombay and she had to keep awake in
the morning. My place would be reached at about 10 a.m. She then introduced
herself as a nurse visiting her son at Goa. She told me that the guy had
married a worthless girl and now he had become a slave to her and did not
contact his mother much. She had traveled all the way alone to see his
son. Her husband was a heart patient so he could not travel by bus. She
told me that she has a daughter of my age at Bombay and she is far
intelligent and ambitious than her son. I did not reply any comments.

The January nights are very cold. Even though the glass windows were closed
there was a bitter coldness in the bus. I cursed for not taking a blanket.
There was a dim light and we could see the faces. Most of the travelers had
started to sleep. But my companion was searching her plastic basket. She
opened it and took a plastic bag in which there was a mixture of boiled
peanuts, onion, mango cuts and garlic pieces. She took a plate and poured
all the items into it and mixed it. She put some pepper and salt on it and
again mixed it. It had to be delicious, I thought.  The lady took some
groundnuts and onion pieces and mixed it with pepper and began to eat. She
offered the plate silently to me, I could not resist my temptation.
Normally I don't take any food or water offered by other travelers in
journeys. But the lady looked decent to me and my mouth was watering at the
rare food she was offering. I took a grab from her plate and began to eat
it. It was more delicious than I expected. The combination of salt, pepper,
lime, mango to the groundnuts was really tasty. The lady also was eating it
at an alarming speed. She took her helpings directly to her mouth and I was
looking at her speed. Then her sary was moved from side and I could see her
breasts suffocating in the cotton blouse she wore. I was astonished to find
their shape, her breasts looked like two footballs trying to get free from
her tight blouses. She had reached an age where breasts may get sagged like
bags, but her breasts were quite different and they were certainly envy of
any other women. I guessed that she was not wearing any brassieres under
her blouse. Her nipples were poking out as if to tear the cotton blouses. I
suddenly changed my look from those admirable melons like breasts. Her
husband may be a lucky man. I guessed he might find much difficulty to
handle them, as each of the globes needed at least two hands to encapsulate
them. If she had been milked she could easily give out a bucket full of
milk. I imagined milking her like a cow, she standing in her all fours and
I like a milkman cupping her fat breasts from behind and her breasts
dangling in their full form. I could not suppress a giggle. She looked at
me in surprise and as if guessed my attention to her mummeries, she
adjusted the sary and my view was lost. I felt it improper from my side,
but my eyes were searching frantically for one more side view of her
breasts. I cautioned my mind to calm down.

I came to my senses when I smelled orange and looked at my companion. She
had completed the groundnuts and now was peeling a big orange and she
leaned at my side and opened the glass of the window a bit and threw the
waste away. The cold wind entered the bus and I shivered at the sudden hit
of cold breeze at my face. She noticed it and immediately closed the window
and gave an apologizing grin to me.  She again offered me half of the
orange but I felt it was improper to take part of all of her food and I
politely refused and took my attention away by looking through the glass
outside. But she put one orange petal to my lips and in the act her fingers
lingered my lips for an instant. I was shocked for a bit due to her
surprise move and partially due to her soft touch on my lips. I felt like
some electricity was passing through my body, I looked at her and she was
pleading with her eyes. The orange was delicious too, so I began to take
the juice. As soon as I finished the peel, she inserted another one to my
lips, this time her fingers touched my lips again, and it lingered there
for more time. I felt like a baby spoon-fed and tried to refuse her, but
she was not looking at me and was eating her peel.

Then I felt her hands once again moving in front of me and opening the
window slightly and another trash was thrown out, and when she took her
hands she rubbed her forearm close to my chest. In the move while I tried
to close the window to prevent the wind, her arms got stuck between mine as
she was also trying to do the same and again her arms brushed my shirt,
close to my brassiere. My nipples were slowly beginning to tickle. The wind
was also contributing to the discomfort, the darkness was increasing, the
inside of the bus was fully dark. I had heard the slow snoring of an
elderly couple who were occupying my backseat. The conductor was in the
driver's cabin to give him company. January nights were the coolest one.
The bus was moving at a steady faster speed. I shivered occasionally. I
could have taken a blanket along with me. I did not expect the weather to
be such cold inside the bus. My companion had stopped eating and was
arranging her food in the basket. She moved the basket under her seat and
opened a bag and took out a black woolen sheet outside.  It was a long and
disorderly put inside flannel type sheet. I envied at her thoughtful
preparations. She spread the sheet out and folded it carefully to two, and
even then it should cover about 3 people. She put one end of the shawl on
her shoulder and took the other end and passed her other shoulder but
extended it to my right shoulder covering both of us inside comfortably.
Her act was so cool and natural and an onlooker should think that we are
sisters. I thought whether to object her act, but the warmth I started to
enjoy and the soft rustling of the shawl was a temptation for me and I
decided to welcome her magnanimity. Thus we became under one blanket and
our hands were touching each other. She leaned so close to me and was
looking at outside through the glass window.

The warm breath of her passed my face and it smelled of orange and onion,
she was keeping her face so close to the window so that it was brushing my
cheeks. She had a lot of facial hair at her chins and her sideburns were
dense and curly, the stray hairs started brushing my face. Since she was
leaning so close to me my left arm came to touch with her sides and since
the sary did not cover her midriff and she was keeping her hands high and
fixed on the bars in front, my hand came in close contact to her fleshy
midriff. She did not mind my touching there. She leaned more to the front
supporting her head on her hand and tried to doze off. This gave me more
room for my hand to get in contact with her breasts. My hands were closed
but the forearm side was brushing her breasts very closely. I could feel
the warmth of her big breasts on my forearm. She moved again close to me
and I felt her nipple touching my hands.  They were big, almost like the
size of my small finger, I guessed. "Shall I take my hands away and allow
her to peacefully doze off ", I was thinking. But the warm contact of her
big rounded breasts was a little ticklish to my forearm. The small hairs I
had on my forearms were slowly beginning to an arousal stage. She was
leaning closer to me and her head was falling downside. This position
offered both of her breasts to get into contact with my forearm. I moved my
left hand to clean my eye corners, and by this way most of my forearm went
into her side and she did not move.  Now both of her breasts were sitting
on my forearm and with the movement of bus I felt like my hand was getting
massaged by her big cushion like breasts. I could feel that her nipples
were growing. They were taut. I moved my hand a little up and felt those
iron hard nipples. So my contact was arousing her. This enthralled me. She
was an elderly lady about 45 years perhaps in her post menopause stage,
still my brushing of hand was making her nipples erect. Was it possible to
make a woman into a sexually aroused state by simple brushing of my hands?
Suddenly her head slipped from the support of her hands and she looked at
me as if in surprise. My forehand was completely inside her and I tried to
move it out. But she pressed my hand from moving away using her cushion
like breasts and her left hand moved to my side and cupped my left breast.

I could not prevent her sudden act of cupping my breasts. I had been
arousing her nipples though unknowingly. My companion was not going to
stop. She reached her left hand under the blanket and started opening my
shirt. Her hands quickly tried to unbutton my shirt from the upper side.
She did not stop by cupping my breasts. I looked around to see if someone
was seeing us. But there was nobody around and even if somebody was
standing close to our seat, he could not see anything. The long shawl was
covering us and her hands were moving in such a way that it did not make
any commotion to the flannel top. None could guess or see what was going
inside my shirt.

Her fingers fumbled at my top buttons and soon it was undone followed by
three more buttons and my shirt was completely open except for the last two
buttons. Her hand started moving freely inside my shirt. She cupped my
breasts alternatively and extended her fingers into my bra from the upper
side and soon my breasts started responding to her caresses. My bra was
occupying more space and my breasts started becoming larger and her hand
was also inside it. She tried to reach my armpits and pulled my tiny hairs
there. She took her hand out and sniffed her fingers taking to her nose.
She was satisfied with the smell of my perspiration and talcum powder which
I had applied generously into my armpits. Once again her hand, this time
her right hand sneaked its way into my opened shirt and started
administering my breasts. She was finding difficulty to get more room in my
tight brassieres. I soon felt her left hand reaching my back and with an
experienced way she unclasped my hooks from behind.  The bra started
loosing its grip and soon her hand removed the straps from my shoulders.
She did not leave it there. She yanked the brassieres out of my shirt
through my hands and kept my shirt on me. Now she took the brassieres away
to her side, and began cupping my breasts directly. Soon my nipples
responded to her touches and they began taut. Her hands were so experienced
in pleasuring by simple touches on breasts. She behaved like reading my
mind, whenever I felt for a soft touch she was simply brushing her hands
around my areola and when I craved for a hard press, she was cupping me at
the right instant. I could feel my pantie was getting wet, but I could not
do anything about that. Her breast play went on for some time and I used
the time to check if someone was seeing us. But we were safe , none
bothered and none seemed awake.

Then I felt her left hand taking charge of my breasts traveling on her
front side so that none could recognize its travels and her right hand got
free. Soon the right hand was softly placed on the V on my jeans. My jeans
were of touch khaki material, but soon I could feel the traveling of her
fingers on my pubic area. It was like a cobra was placed into my lap and it
was moving there. Then her fingers unbuttoned the big button on my jeans
and her two fingers took my zipper downside. As soon as she felt the zipper
was lowered to its maximum her palm sneaked into my jeans and cupped on my
pubis. I did not had much hair there as I had trimmed my pussy hairs in the
previous week. Without spending much time on the outside she moved her palm
into my panties from upper side and her palm was pressing my pubic
triangle.  Then she parted my vaginal lips and rubbed my channel with her
index finger. She rubbed my pubis with added vigour when she felt my small
clitoris engorging to a pebble size and the tip of her index finger was
rotating the hub of the clitty. Then the bus entered some gutter filled
road and bus started shaking. She withdrew her hands from my jeans and I
unzipped my jeans. After an instant the dim light was on and from the slow
movement of the bus, I felt that the bus was out of highway and was moving
to some bus stand. After another five-minute journey the bus stopped, by
this time I had buttoned my shirts but my bra was still with my companion.

The conductor appeared from the drivers cabin and told they are taking a
five minute rest as the driver is changing and travelers might take a break
for coffee/tea. But none seemed interested and all were happy to get some
peaceful sleep. I felt I would take a leak as my bladder was getting full
and I did not know when would be the other stop.  So I tried to move out
after getting out of the long blanket which was covering me like a maze. My
companion looked at me with a question mark on her face and I gave a thumbs
up sign for taking a leak. When I was passing her, I heard her soft whisper
into my ears, "Chaddi utarkar aayena, maja aayega! (Remove your panties
when come back, you will enjoy)". I went out and saw it was a godforsaken
bus stand and moved to the lavatory. It was not clean so I peed on the
floor outside. There was no water to clean. I used my soft pantie to clean
my pussy and kept it inside my purse. I zipped my jeans carefully so as not
to get the zipped stuck to any stray pubic hair.  Fortunately my pussy
trimming helped me to wear the jeans without panties and without any fuss.

When I came out I saw the conductor offering a coffee to me in a plastic
cup. I took it with a gratitude smile and sipped it. It was good and time
was 1.30 a.m. He told me that the next stop would be around 4 am and
refused to take money for the coffee. I saw his eyes budging out as he
noticed my breasts swaying in my shirt. The tits were enjoying their newly
acclaimed freedom. I had never worn a shirt without a bra inside.  I felt
it naughty and cool. The nipples were rock hard and were rubbing the
material gently. What would the conductor think, perhaps he was praising
his luck to watch my tits sway in my shirts and he was getting the price of
his coffee in this way. The wind was making me shiver and I jumped inside
the bus. I looked at the travelers and nobody was awake and I proceeded to
my seat.

The conductor entered the bus and he went to the cabin again and the door
to travelers section was closed. When I reached my seat, the lady was
trying to catch a sleep with her head fixed on her hands and I had to wake
her up to move to the window seat. As soon as I tried to move past her she
sneezed violently and coughed twice or thrice.  Again she emitted an
'Achoo!!!!!!!!!' and pressed on my jeans for support. I tried to move
further but I felt her hands firmly pressing my buttocks. When she
understood that I had removed the pantie without wasting any time she
unbuttoned my jeans and yanked it down. With one pull she was able to yank
my jeans completely down and it lay around my ankles. I was embarrassed and
looked around. No one was watching us. "Please take some water", she said
to me. I searched for my water bottle from my bag, which was kept, above
our head on the side luggage berth. The lady was not allowing me to move to
her right.  I was standing nude from my belly to my ankles and she covered
my excellently using the long woolen shawl. No one could guess I was half
nude and for an onlooker I appeared searching for water bottle from the bag
on upperside. My companion again sneezed and moved forward and her face
kissed my buttocks. She kept her face close to my back channel and kissed
my butt. It was news to me, none had kissed me on my butt. She not only
kissed the me from behind but began to lick my channel between my buttocks
and bite on the backbone. She spread my butt wide and tried to insert her
tongue deeper and almost reached my anus. I was still searching for water
to the others if any looked. I grabbed the bottle and gulped some water.
Then her index finger entered my vaginal hole and started to finger me from
front side. She was still kissing on my back and with other hand she was
meshing my butt meat as if making dough for bread. I was leaning as if to
hide my head from others and was clinging on the front seat. She forced me
to sit on her lap and her index finger was puffed into my pussy. Soon one
more finger entered my vagina. I began to gyrate on her lap like a lap
dancer with her index finger pivoted into my pussy as an axis. I was moving
up and down on her thick index finger. My god!, it was best, she supported
my moves my keeping her hands to lift my buttocks and occasionally using
her free fingers she rubbed my clitoris from front upper angle.
Occasionally she would bite me. Then she removed my shirt too.

So I was near nude and sitting on the lap of a fat woman and gyrating up
and down on her index finger, more than two fingers were inside me, then
her thumb came to back and tried to invade my asshole. It was terribly
exciting. I was nude and approaching an orgasm inside a bus, sitting on
some woman's lap. My tits were dangling inside the blanket. We both were
fully covered by the blanket, but if the light was on, there was no escape
for me. Fortunately the bus was moving fast in a well-maintained highway
and none was awake.

I had been wearing a black string around my waistline and a gold chain was
also tied along with it. My husband had presented the gold chain to me as
an anniversary present. Indian women belonging to Hindu caste and those in
ancient age always wore a string around their waistline. Most of them had a
locket with magic words written on it by some astrologer. The myth was that
no woman should be entirely nude fearing that moon god and so many other
lesser known gods would feast on a woman unknowing to her and it may create
lunatic tendencies for her. As per Hindu mythology moon is a male god
always crazy for womankind of human beings. So the string or a gold chain
always protected a woman from complete nudity. I was wearing the black
string with a locket for the sake of my mother in law who believed it would
save me from black eyes. According to her I was a beauty and others may
feel jealous and their black eyes can harm me. There was a locket made by a
Muslim Astrologer with Arabic inscriptions made on a copper plate, which
was tied along with the string.  My husband used to ask me to parade nude
before him when he was horny. The gold chain was an ideal gift selected by
him to persuade me to do a showgirl dance. He would first ask me whether I
was wearing the gold chain and when I answer "yes", he would ask again to
show me. He would not be satisfied if I showed it outside my clothes, but
would cajole me to shed all my clothes and stand nude before him. He would
watch me with his eyes boggling out. Then he would put a record and would
ask me to dance nude. I did not mind satisfying his crazy requests, most of
the time he would be busy with shares and market. Only a few days he would
become a romantic and I was never going to damp his desires as an ideal
wife!.

The woman took a fancy to my string and was tracing it along with the gold
chain using her lips. I was elevated to a mood of ticklishness and ecstasy
by the soft touch of her thick lips on my midriff. My back was full of her
bite marks by then. My boobs were going to explode. Then I felt it coming.
A tremendous orgasm, which had been building inside me, exploded like a
volcano. I collapsed to her lap. She acknowledged her success by biting on
my shoulders. I was gasping for air, and I slide the window a bit to get
some fresh air, I asked her for my bra. But she was not hearing me. I
grabbed my shirt and put it on. I looked at her again and guessed that she
was expecting me to reciprocate. But how, she was a plump lady and there
was no angle possible to return her the favour. I sat on my seat and tried
to relieve the heat. But I felt her hands on my shoulders again and she was
making me to lean her side. I did not get any clue, but she gestured me to
lay on her lap. She was not covering her front with blanket. I obeyed her
and lay on her lap with my face looking at the top of bus.  No one could
suspect anything now, we were like a mother and daughter. Her big breasts
were so close to my face now. I saw that her blouse had no hooks but there
was a knot made at the lower end. Her big breasts were just inches apart
from my face. I was feeling tired and sleepy and it was so comfortable to
sleep with my head on her lap and my leg was placed on my portion of the
seat. I saw to my dismay that she opened the knot on her blouse and her
breasts were now free and sagged to my face. They touched my face and I
guessed she wanted me to suck her breasts. I was ready to pay back a
fraction of the pleasure I had received. She inserted her nipple to my lips
and I started to suck it like a baby. Her nipples were as large as a little
boy's penis. I dreamt that I was sucking a young lad to orgasm. I got some
milk like fluid from her breasts, she then offered her other breast to
me. At the same time her hands once again entered my jeans. She began
another rhythmical fingering to my pussy.  This time she was so slow and
she had more direct and convenient access to my inner parts. I had no way
to express my gratitude other than sucking her breasts. If she had asked me
to suck her asshole I would have gladly agreed. I was so overwhelmed by her
care and eagerness to please me. You can never get such an unselfish
companion in life. She looked at my face so fondly and her fingers were
moving slowly, inch by inch and sometimes softer and sometimes harder
explored my folds. By the time I achieved a third consecutive orgasm I
looked at my watch and saw that time was 3 am. Even when I was slipping
into a deep sleep her fingers were inside my jeans tracing my black string,
my magical string. She appeared to take a fancy at it. Perhaps it had given
me sexy attire.

I was awake when the bus reached Bombay suburbs. I was sleeping on the full
seat still covered in the blanket. My head was no more on her lap. She was
nowhere to be seen. I looked at the plastic basket under the seat. It was
also gone. She had alighted and still the blanket was with me. I wondered
why did she miss it, perhaps she left it not disturb my sleep. I suddenly
reached to button my jeans. Then I found something missing. What was it, I
wondered. Everything was in proper. Then I searched for my black string and
its locket. It was missing, oh no!. I found my gold chain too missing.  Oh
god!, that woman cheated me. I took away the blanket and searched
frantically under the seat. There I saw my black string thrown away and it
was cut at more than one place and there was a small part of the hook of
the gold chain. Some sharp instrument cut it in the middle and a very small
portion was still hanging along with the black string. How did she do it,
oh cheat!. I searched once again , on one corner my black bra was lying
like an orphan. Half of the passengers were left, the bus was entering the
city and traffic was getting heavy. How could I explain my loss of gold
chain to my husband? He was sure to make me nude today, as I had been away
from him for a whole month. I spread the blanket and found a long patch in
its middle. I had learnt my lesson, never believe a stranger.