Date: Mon, 7 Feb 2011 15:26:47 -0800 (PST) From: Cameron Xho Subject: The Guy on The Bus The Guy on The Bus By Cameron Xho Copyright 2011 I checked guys out all the time - almost every young guy I saw got the once-over, and usually my eyes found their way pretty quickly to the crotch - but I'd never been caught before. And this time I hadn't even been looking at anything incriminating - I'd been staring at this guy's feet of all things - but he knew. I didn't know how, but he knew. He stretched out his legs, wiggled his toes and looked around at me and smiled. A smile full of mischief, amusement and that horrible knowledge. I quickly looked away and blushed redder than I ever had in my life. I couldn't see him anymore but I knew that he was smiling even wider now that I'd blushed. We were both on the bus. He was on the other side of the aisle and a couple of rows ahead. It had been a hot summer day, but the sun was setting now and the shops and houses that went by out the windows were already starting to look gray and drab. I had spent the afternoon with my friends at the mall and was heading home. It isn't that I have some kind of foot fetish or anything - feet are generally kind of gross - but something about this guy's feet had just captured my attention for a few seconds is all. He was wearing flip-flops and there was something incredibly sexy about it. It seemed to perfectly encapsulate summer, and it made me horny as hell. I had a raging boner that was straining against my underpants. After he'd caught me looking at him I wished more than anything that my boner would go away. I was so embarrassed. But it didn't go away, and neither did he. Before I knew it he'd got up from his seat across the aisle and had sat down right next to me, his leg almost touching mine. I was so shocked I just froze. I didn't even look at him. But I knew it was him, and I could tell that he was looking at me and still smiling. Laughing at me really, I was sure. At least he didn't seem to want to bash me. I felt something close to panic - I was certain that everyone else on the bus must have noticed and must have known too - known that I was a pervert and everything. My mouth had gone instantly dry. I still couldn't look at the guy. I was staring determinedly out the window. "Did you like my feet?" he asked in a quiet voice. I could hear that smile in his voice now. I still couldn't speak - my mouth was too dry and I was still too shocked - but I managed to grunt something unintelligible. This made him laugh. It wasn't a cruel laugh though. The truth was that I had liked his feet. I'd liked all of him really. He looked to be in his early twenties. He had a strong, handsome face, with dark blonde hair on his head and on his arms and his legs. He had some rusty stubble on his face too. And there was even a little bit of blonde hair on his toes and on the tops of his feet. That's what I'd been staring at when he'd caught me. At that moment I had thought it was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. His skin was tanned and golden. No wonder I'd gotten such a boner. "Don't worry," he said reassuringly, "I check guys out all the time too. I checked you out when you got on the bus." I just gulped at this. I didn't know what to say. He'd said he'd checked me out, but he hadn't said what he thought. I didn't think there was any chance he'd liked what he'd seen. It's not that I thought I was ugly as such - but I knew I wasn't in this guy's league. Plus he was way older than me. I was only fifteen, and I barely looked it. I was skinny and pale and barely had to shave yet. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and knew how awful I must have looked with my bony elbows and wrists and knobbly knees sticking out everywhere. I hated wearing shorts, but it had been so hot today. "Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked, apparently undeterred by the fact that I still hadn't so much as looked at him or been able to produce an intelligible sentence. This question shocked me. Did I have a boyfriend? I'd never so much as kissed another person, and I didn't even think of myself as being gay. I still thought one day I'd grow out of all this stuff and get married. And here he was just assuming that I was a queer! I started to feel a bit angry, a bit threatened. "I'm not gay," I said defensively. And this time he really laughed. I felt embarrassed. "I'm bi," I added, once his laughter had died down. I had no idea what had made me say that - I'd never even admitted the possibility to myself, even when I spent half the day fantasising about guys. That's how badly in denial I was. And here I was telling a complete stranger I was bisexual! And the funniest thing was it wasn't even true. I didn't like women at all. The guy said "Cool," as if he was taking me at my word, but I knew he didn't believe me. He knew. I'd known that from the second he'd looked at me that first time. It was like he could read my mind. I started to feel even more embarrassed, like I was acting like a stupid little kid. I wanted to prove to him that I wasn't. I finally braved a look at him - just a quick one, but I saw his face. He was even more gorgeous up close. And I could smell him too. He smelled so good. And he was still smiling at me. There hadn't been much of a gap between the two of us sitting there before - bus seats weren't made that way - but now he moved over so that our legs were touching. I guess he'd taken me telling him that I was bi as a sign of interest, and I guess it had been. If I'd wanted him to go away all I would have had to have done was say so. My dick had stayed hard the entire time he had been sitting there, but now as I felt the warm, tingling pressure of his bare lower leg against mine it got harder than it had ever been before. After rubbing my leg for a couple of seconds with his, he brought his outside leg up and rested his big foot on his other knee. He'd left the flip-flop behind on the floor. "You can touch it if you like," he said with a smile. I looked around the bus. I couldn't believe this was happening. There were only a couple of other people onboard, and no-one seemed to be looking our way, but I still thought the whole thing was crazy. I swallowed, my dry mouth making it difficult. My heart was racing at a mile a minute. I moved my hand over slowly and touched the outside of his foot with the outside of my pinkie finger. He laughed at me again. "You can touch it more than that," he said. "People might see," I whispered throatily. He smiled again, and looked around. "No-one would see anything," he said confidently. "Everyone minds their own business on a bus. I could give you a hand job and no-one would notice." After saying this he reached his hand over and for a second I seriously thought he was going to grab my dick. I squirmed in my seat, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest, but all he did was put his hand up under my T-shirt and brush a finger along my stomach for a second or two, before pulling away. But it was enough. The instant he touched me I had cum in my pants. I could feel the warm cum oozing out into my underwear. The guy hadn't noticed, and I didn't want him to - I was so embarrassed - but I couldn't help thrusting my hips forward a little bit as the cum shot out, enjoying the pressure of my squirting cockhead against my underwear. I was embarrassed and close to panic - but it felt good. Usually after I had cum I wouldn't be interested in sex at all for at least a few hours. Most of the time I felt ashamed about the type of things I'd thought about or done while I was jerking off. But that wasn't the case now. I had just cum a massive load, but I was still horny as hell. My dick hadn't even gone soft. And here was this big foot sitting right next to my knee, waiting for me to touch. As I said before, I don't have a foot fetish as such. I think the reason I had been staring at his feet was mostly because from where I had been sitting on the bus his legs and feet were the most visible to me. But he did have nice feet. And they were so big. He must have at least size 13 feet, I thought. There was something incredibly masculine about them - and about his whole body. He was tall - about six foot three I would say - and he was lean without being either too skinny or muscular. He was just big. Wiry and manly. I grabbed his foot with my hand and rubbed it gently. I braved another look at him as I played with his big toe. His nails were cut close and his feet were as tanned as the rest of him. I couldn't believe I was doing this. He smiled at me again and nodded encouragingly, before taking my hand in his much bigger one. "You're so beautiful," he whispered in my ear. "I am not," I muttered instantly, and I believed it. I still didn't understand how someone like him could find me attractive. I thought he must be just playing with me. "Yes you are," he said, and he ran his hand up my arm. I shivered and my dick got as hard as it had been before. No-one had ever touched me in this sort of way before. "What stop do you get off at?" he asked. And it was then that I realised I hadn't been paying any attention to where the bus was. I looked out the window into the gloom and saw that I had missed my usual stop, but we weren't far past it. "I have to get off here," I said. "Is it okay if I get off with you?" he asked. I nodded. I didn't even think about it - I just nodded. He pressed the button that let the driver know we wanted to get off at the next stop. I couldn't help staring at his big strong hand on the button. I was so horny. But I was nervous as well. I had no idea why he was getting off with me. Did he expect to come over to my house? What would I tell my mother? There was no way I could give a good explanation - he was way older than me. As the bus slowed down and approached the stop I suddenly worried about my pants. I was wearing white cargo shorts and I knew there must be a pretty bad wet patch there. While I was sitting I had been able to cover it up a bit with my T-shirt, but the T-shirt wouldn't be long enough if I was standing. And how was I going to hide my boner? There was no way I would be able to make it go away. My heart started racing even faster and my throat seemed to get even drier. In the end the bus stopped, the guy got up and I just followed him up the aisle and jumped out after him onto the street. If anyone had been looking then maybe they saw the big wet patch at the front of my pants and my little dick sticking out, but at that moment I truly was too horny to care. Fortunately it was almost fully dark out now, so I hoped the guy wouldn't notice my pants. With a quick adjustment I had managed to push my dick up into the waistband of my underwear and conceal it, but there was nothing I could do about the wet patch. I must have cum more than I ever had in my life. My fingers were sticky with cum just from touching the outside of my shorts. "Do you know somewhere we can go?" he asked me as we stood on the street, watching the bus drive off. At first I didn't know what he meant - I had honestly thought he wanted to go home with me - but now I realised what he wanted. "There's a big sports ground a few streets away," I said, pointing in the direction. The guy was quieter now that we were walking. I thought maybe he was a bit nervous too. He kept looking around. For me it was like time was going in slow motion. I had butterflies going in my stomach something crazy. We'd been going for half a block or so before he spoke again. "My name's Jon, by the way," he said with a smile. "I'm James," I replied shakily - my throat was so dry I could barely speak. My name wasn't really James - it was the first thing that came into my head - I don't know why I made up a name, but once it was done there was no going back. James was the name of a friend I had seen at the mall that day. He was much better looking than me. I wished I looked like James. "How old are you?" the guy asked delicately - as if he knew that the question might be offensive, or maybe dangerous. "Fifteen," I answered honestly. I wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. If I'd thought he wanted to hear something else I would have lied and said it. He didn't say anything in reply. I couldn't tell if he was happy or not. "How old are you?" I asked him back in a nervous rush. "Twenty-five." This was older than I'd thought, but it didn't matter. "You do know what we're going to do don't you?" he asked me. "Yes," I said quickly - I didn't want him to think I was just a stupid little kid. But the truth was I didn't know what we were going to do. I knew we were going to do something. But who was going to do what to who and just how far we'd go I had no idea. And I didn't know what I wanted. I'd never done anything before. But I knew I wanted him. I wanted to taste him and to smell him and to see every bit of him. When we got to the sports ground he looked around and pointed out a lonely-looking shed over near a parking lot on the edge of the field that must have been used for the teams to change in. We set off in its direction wordlessly. In the distance I could see someone walking their dog on the other side of the field, but it was so dark now and they were so far away we didn't worry about them. My dick was straining so hard in my pants it was causing me pain. The shed was locked, but behind it there was a fenced-in area of grass that gave almost perfect privacy. It was softly lit by a nearby fluorescent light, all dirty and covered in cobwebs. It was a warm and slightly sticky night. Everything smelled of summer and cut grass. We both stopped walking and turned and faced each other, a few paces between us. He towered over me, he was that much taller. For some reason I found how much bigger than me he was sexy. He was smiling again. I was too nervous to smile back. He reached one hand down and casually adjusted his dick on the outside of his shorts. He didn't seem to have an erection - it wasn't obvious anyway - but I thought it was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen, him touching his crotch like that right then. I just stared. He kept smiling. He kicked off his flip flops, and then pulled off his T-shirt. I saw that his body was tanned, and lean and hard and sexy. He had a trail of dark blonde hair running from his belly button down to where his dick must be. But what I noticed most was the smell. It was a warm night and it had been a hot day, and he smelled of sweat and deodorant and whatever else - and I found it intoxicating. "Now you," he said, standing there smiling in just his shorts. I was nervous and shy - I didn't like my body - I was too skinny and I was pale and had barely any hair, but right then I was so horny I would have done anything at all. I pulled my T-shirt over my head and stood there with one arm across my chest, trying to hide my nipples. I kept my other hand in front of my crotch, trying to hide the wet spot on my shorts. He laughed at me again, but there was no malice in it. "You look so serious," he said. "Smile - this is meant to be fun." I gave him a weak smile back - but I was so nervous I could hardly think straight, and my throat was so dry I could barely control the movement of my mouth. My heart was pounding in my ears. I kept thinking about how ugly I was - about how all my ribs stuck out when I had my shirt off and how little body hair I had. He looked at me intently. "You do want to do this don't you?" he asked. "Yes," I mumbled, and it was true. He seemed doubtful. "Have you ever been with a guy before?" he asked. I shook my head and mumbled "No." "Okay, that's fine," he said. "Take your shoes off - we're going to do this properly. You'll like it, I promise" I nodded, trusting him. I clumsily removed both shoes and then peeled off my socks. I almost fell over getting my last sock off. The grass felt strange between my toes. "You have a beautiful body," he said, admiring me. I blushed and looked down. I was still standing there awkwardly, with one hand covering my nipples. He smiled at my blushing and then reached down and undid the belt holding up his shorts. They slipped down his legs and he stepped out of them, leaving him standing there in just his underwear. I knew what he'd done, but I was overcome with shyness and I couldn't even look. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him taking off his underwear now too, but still I kept my eyes on the ground. "You're allowed to look you know," he said laughing. I looked shyly up and my eyes were drawn straight to his crotch. I had never seen a grown man's dick before, not like this. The thing that shocked me first was the size. I thought it was huge. And he wasn't even hard yet, not fully. He was uncut, and the tip of the head peeked out from under his big round foreskin. And there was so much hair. Blonde hair! As I looked at him he started playing with it, running his thumb and a couple of fingers along the head, pulling back the foreskin and then letting it cover the head again. I was mesmerised. I wanted to touch it. "Now you," he said, and this snapped me back to the present. I pulled down both my shorts and underwear in one go and stepped out of them, exposing my dick to the night air. My dick was tiny compared to his - it was the difference between a boy and a man - but right then I was so horny I barely cared. My cock stuck straight out, as hard as it had ever been. I looked down at it and saw that it was a mess. There was dry cum all over it and in my pubes above it, and my long foreskin which completely covered the head and then some was literally dripping precum. Strands of it were stretched in several different directions. I looked nervously up at him. He was smiling. "It's not very big," I whispered, ashamed. "It's perfect," he said and walked towards me. I saw now that his dick was hard too. I noticed that it was darker than mine - mine was so white - and his bent round a bit to the left. I saw that the end of his was wet, just like mine. When he got to me he put his arms around me and I don't know what I did. I just sort of humped his leg a couple of times I think, because within seconds of him touching me - that big dick poking me in the stomach - I came all over his thigh. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I grunted. He didn't say anything, he just reached his hand down to where my cum was smeared across his thigh - there wasn't as much of it this time - scooped up most of it with his hand and then licked it off with his tongue, smiling at me as he did it. He then got down onto his knees and took my still dripping dick in his mouth. He sucked the last of the cum out of me, and then began licking all around my dick: my balls, my pubes, even my stomach where strands of cum had been stuck. I shuddered, I felt numb. When he was finished and standing up again I told him I was sorry. "What for?" he asked, still licking the last of my cum from around his mouth. "For ruining it," I muttered ashamedly. "What's ruined?" he said. "Do you want to stop?" he asked in surprise. I shook my head. I didn't want to stop, but I didn't feel quite as horny as I had before I'd cum. My cock had gone half-soft this time. He seemed to sense this and he told me to sit down. We both sat on the soft grass facing each other, he put his big long legs around me and pulled me close with his arms. I could feel his rock hard cock pushing against my stomach again. I could smell the sweat from his armpits. He ran his hands slowly and gently up and down my back, then up and down my arms, chest and stomach, until finally he had his big, strong hands cradling my face. He left my dick alone. He gently massaged my upper lip with his fingers, feeling the few little hairs that I had there. He seemed to like them, because he was smiling again. It had only been a minute but already I was rock hard again, and breathless with desire. And then he slipped one of his fingers into my mouth. I was surprised, but sucked on it eagerly, and then again as he replaced it with another, and then a thumb. His skin was salty and warm. I was in heaven. And then he leaned in to kiss me. I felt his lips against mine, bronze stubble brushing my face, and then I felt his tongue, searching gently inside my mouth. I pushed mine back, opening my mouth. After a few seconds he pulled back and laughed. "Am I doing it wrong?" I asked softly, worried. I'd never kissed anyone before. "No," he shook his head, still laughing, before coming in again. He was lying, but right then I didn't realise it. This time he kissed me the same way I had him, his tongue penetrating deep inside my mouth, wrestling with mine. Saliva was everywhere. It felt amazing, unbelievable. I was buzzing all over. When we broke apart he laughed again, then lay down on his back, arms and legs spread out, massive bent cock pointing up to the sky. I crawled over next to him. I didn't understand what he was doing. He was just lying there. "What should I do?" I asked, embarrassed. "Anything you like," he said generously. "Take your time. Why don't you start at my feet and work your way up." Then I understood. I crawled towards him and reached out my hand to his big feet. I massaged them, playing once again with the big long toes. "Don't you want to kiss them," he said after a while. I had been too embarrassed before, but now that I had permission I lightly kissed each toe. He laughed and, obviously sensing my nervousness thrust his big toe right into my mouth. I sucked on it, and then the others. My cock felt like it might burst again. When I'd finished with his feet I moved up his lean, muscled legs, feeling the prickly blonde hairs. I tried to pay as much attention to his legs as I had his feet, but what I really wanted was up higher. He seemed to know this, because he laughed and reached out a long arm and guided my head right to it. I realise now that he was doing this - letting me explore his body - for my pleasure, not for his. It was eerie the way he knew what I wanted. His dick hadn't softened at all while I had been playing with his feet and legs, if anything it looked even harder. It stuck straight up, bending a bit to the left, and the veins that ran along the shaft were clearly sticking out. There was precum all over the head. Without even thinking I licked it off. I heard him laugh softly. It was like nothing I'd ever tasted before. It was salty and sweet and I loved it. I quickly fit my mouth around the head and went for more. I could only just fit that massive dick in my mouth. Even more than the taste, I realised what I loved most about his dick was the smell. If I'd thought his body had smelled good when he took his T-shirt off, that was nothing compared to this. The smell of his manhood. It was earthy and damp and animal. I lost all sense of embarrassment and inhibition. I buried my head in his blonde pubes, I lifted up his big heavy balls and buried my head between his legs and smelled and licked. With one hand I pumped his big slick dick and with the other I rubbed my own. I only stopped when I thought I was going to cum again. When it seemed I was done, he sat up again and looked at me. He smiled as he saw me picking one of his pubes out of my mouth. I watched as his hand idly stroked his dick again, the foreskin going back and forth. "Can I fuck you now?" he asked earnestly, his eyes shining this time not with laughter, but desire, his voice low. "Yes," I whispered without thinking. I wanted it badly - more than anything I'd ever wanted in my life - but I was frightened too. He crawled over to me - we were both still on the ground - and kissed me again. I realised he must have been tasting his own dick in my mouth, but he didn't care. "I'll take you from behind," he whispered. "It will be easiest that way." I nodded. My throat had gone impossibly dry again. He pushed me gently over until I was on my hands and knees, facing away from him. I bent my head around to watch. I thought he would go over to where his clothes were to get a condom, but instead I saw him drizzling spit out of his mouth onto his hand and rubbing it over the head of his big hard dick. Then he put spit on his fingers and started rubbing it onto my asshole. I gasped when I felt a finger go in, and then moaned with pleasure as I felt more spit and more fingers inside. A voice in my head said I should say something about a condom - I knew I shouldn't let someone fuck me without one - but as his fingers penetrated me all I did was moan in pleasure. And then when I saw him guiding his slick, dripping cock towards my asshole I forgot all about condoms. I moaned again with pleasure when I first felt it going in, but my moan of pleasure quickly turned to a squeal of pain. It hurt! I told him to stop, and he did. My forehead was pushed against the ground, and I had almost stopped breathing because of how much it had hurt. "It's alright," he said from behind me, the tip of his cock still inside me. "It hurts at first but you need to relax, and then it will feel good." I gulped and nodded in assent. It felt better now that it wasn't moving, but I still felt all tight and stretched. And then I felt big strong hands reach around and stroke my pale, hairless stomach, fingers flitting in and out of my bellybutton, ranging up and playing with my nipples. I felt warm kisses on my neck and shoulders, and then a hand pumping my now soft cock, bringing it back to firmness again. And all the while that this was happening I could feel that big bent dick sliding in further and further, until finally there was none left outside. "It's in," he whispered in my ear, and I moaned. Not in pain, but just because I felt so full - full of big, dripping, musky-scented cock and I was being fucked. It still hurt, but he started gently, and the pleasure soon began to outweigh the pain. I moaned louder and louder as the dick went in and out, in and out. Both pleasure and pain. Soon I felt a hand over my mouth and a voice telling me I had to be quieter. I moaned lower this time and could hear it as his balls slapped against my skinny ass. I don't know how long he fucked me for, but I never wanted it to stop. Suddenly he groaned and then I felt it. I felt his cum shooting inside my ass, filling it up. I touched my own dick then and came in an instant, for the third time that night. I let out one final long low moan of pleasure when several seconds later he pulled that big dripping dick out of my ass with a slurp and then I collapsed on the ground. He lay down next to me. I breathed in the musky smell of him one last time. It didn't make me horny this time - I was spent - but it made me feel content, safe. We lay there for a few minutes together before he got up and started to dress. I got up and did the same. He looked through his pile of clothes for something to wipe off his now soft - but still big - dick, and in the end he had to settle for his underwear. He put on just his shorts and kept his underwear off. I didn't wipe myself at all - I was past caring. When I'd got my shoes on and stood up we were both standing there awkwardly, him holding his soggy underwear in his hand. He smiled at me. "Want these?" he asked, and tossed them to me before waiting for an answer. He knew that I did, or at least that I would later. We said goodbye a bit awkwardly and I walked off in one direction and he went in the other. I didn't even get all the way home before I had made myself hard again thinking about what had happened that night - I could still feel his cum dripping out my sore asshole as I walked - and making sure no one was around, I pulled out his underwear and covered my nose and mouth with them, breathing in deeply. Later when I got home I came for the fourth and fifth time that night.