Masturbation on Location: Vibrator On A Bus

“Here,” Kari said, handing me a small, white envelope.  I took it gingerly and looked at it in confusion.

                “If you’re tipping me, you don’t have to put it in an envelope,” I said sarcastically. “And normally you’re supposed to wait until after I’ve opened my coat.”  My hands found the front edges of the Cashmere coat and made sure the front was securely closed.

                She let out a silver laugh that sounded like bells ringing.  “It’s not a tip,” she said simply.  “It’s a fare.”

                “A fare?” I asked suspiciously.  “A fare for what?”  I took the envelope and tore it open.  Inside was a card with the METRO bus logo emblazoned across its face. 

“The bus of course,” she replied, plucking my large purse of my shoulder.  My eyes widened in alarm. 

                “The bus?  The bus to where?”

                “Back to my office.  It’s a bit of a trip, with two route changes, but I’m sure you can handle it.”  She snapped her fingers as if she had just remembered something.  She opened up her own purse and pulled out a small piece of paper.  “Your schedule.  Just remember to get off at those intersections and those other numbers are for the connecting buses.”  I took the paper, my hand trembling, and she reached back down into her purse.  I gasped when she brought out a bright blue vibrator that looked as if it were made of ice.  It flopped half way over as she handed it to me, my mouth open in shock.  My cheeks turned scarlet.

                “Kari!” I hissed.  We were standing in the entrance way of one of her favorite restaurants and while there wasn’t an immediate audience, the risk of a hostess or another customer coming in or out was astronomically good.  My problem was of course more prosaic.  I had nowhere to put the damn thing.  The coat I was wearing was cashmere and very expensive, but it lacked pockets of any kind.  The dress I had been wearing, along with my bra and panties, happened to be in the large purse which Kari had just taken away from me.  The only other spot a girl like me might happen to stash a nine inch long ice colored dildo happened to be full; two golf-ball sized spheres were tumbling around in there in time with each step.  So as I said, not many options.

                I jammed the dildo up into my coat sleeve as a temporary and quite makeshift storage point.  At least it got the damn thing out of sight.  My coat had slipped again, revealing a bit more than I was comfortable showing, and once against I cinched up the front and tightened the belt.  Pockets weren’t the only thing the coat lacked.  It didn’t have buttons either.  What kind of designer doesn’t put buttons on a coat?

                “Kari! This coat is all I’m wearing!  How am I to hold all this?” I demanded.  She grinned, reached out, and squeezed my arm gently.            

                “That’s your problem, Breanne.  Besides, you also happen to be wearing those wonderful shoes.”

                I glanced down at my toes, which were totally visible.  She had also happened to buy me a pair of four inch, open toed heels with these delicate straps that left the sides and tops of my foot bare.  They were nice shoes, and they matched the dress; the dress I was no longer even wearing.  I glared at her.  She checked her watch.

                “Well now, I suggest you move smartly.  The bus will be here in another ten or so minutes.  Please make sure you have the vibrator inside you and on before you get on the bus. Don’t turn it off until you get to my office either.  I’ll see you later.”  She began to turn and I grabbed her arm.

                “You can’t leave me like this!” I said, my voice panicked, the cock shaped head of the ice colored gel dildo poking out of my sleeve.  Kari blinked and looked at me.  Then her eyes narrowed and she leaned in close.

                “Yes I can.  Have fun.”  She pulled away and then left, leaving me a bus pass and a dildo, dressed in nothing but a measly coat held together with a simple belt, a pair of high heels, a set of ben wa balls and a nine inch long dildo.  As far as accessories go, this was a bit much.  My face flushed and with a thumping heart, I followed her out of the restaurant out into the parking lot.  She was already getting into her convertible and she waved at me through the window.  She pointed toward the road and I swallowed, my eyes following her gesture.  There was a sign there, a bus stop sign.  Damn.  She was serious!

                Then she left.  She actually left.  With the tip of the dildo resting in my fingers as I kept it slipped up my sleeve I moved forward, the bus pass in my other left hand.  The street wasn’t terribly busy, but there were cars going past every few seconds and when I got to the sign I was in a state.  How the hell was I supposed to put the vibrator in BEFORE the bus got there?  I glanced back at the restaurant.  I should have turned around and gone back to the bathroom.  Shaking, I turned my back to the street, praying no one in the restaurant happened to be looking out the front windows at the road.  I put the bus pass between my teeth and slipped my hand between the front of my coat, right underneath the single belt which was all that was holding the coat together, digging my hand in between my legs.  It was slippery, my thighs wet, my petals swollen with need, but I found the simple string that led to the ben wa balls.  Normally I pull gently, working the two golf-ball sized spheres out with two steady, but soft tugs.  I didn’t have the time.  I jerked the sex toy out with a cry.  The bus pass fell to the ground. The deep ache wasn’t comfortable as my hand came out clutching the wet ben wa balls and frankly the little burst of pain made my arousal worse. 

             

   I stood there, stupefied.  Where the hell was I going to put the ben wa balls?  I blinked.  I had no purse. No pockets.  And they were… um… wet.  Very wet.  Gooey even.  Looking around in a panic, I almost ran back to the restaurant.  But then I heard the engine.  I glanced down the street.  SHIT!  It was the bus!  Oh fuck!

                I shook my right arm and the vibrator fell into my hand out of my coat sleeve.  I jammed it in between my legs, not caring who in the restaurant happened to see.  In hindsight I was probably far enough away to arouse curiosity, but not calls to the police.  I groaned out loud as I pushed the massive vibrator in deep, twisting the base wildly, not caring about the setting.  I just wanted it in.  My eyes practically popped out of my head though as the vibrations sent ribbons of pleasure through my loins.  I must have been much more aroused than I thought because my pussy contracted wildly around the plastic, rumbling phallus and my hips jerked a few times as I bent over and picked up my pass.  The squeal of the bus brakes hit my ears and when I straightened and turned the door of the bus was opening, right in front of me.

                I climbed in, my entire focus on taking tiny steps that would prevent the vibrator from falling out.  It was awful.  I could feel it slipping and I had to keep my thighs locked together in order to keep the damn thing in.  A women’s sex is designed to be well lubricated.  It’s not designed to hold things in unless they are of a certain shape, like ben wa balls or inflatable dildos.  This vibrator was a monster in length, but not in width, and it certainly wasn’t bulging at the tip.  The climb up the steps was horrendous.  I waved my bus pass and the driver stared at me.

                “Uh, miss?  Your coat?” His eyes trailed down my body and I looked down too.  Sure enough, the front edges of the coat had slipped open under the damn belt and I was showing enough skin to make it very clear that I was naked underneath.  I wasn’t flashing breasts and my sex was to the side, so all he caught sight of was some thigh and loin, but still…

                I slammed my hands together, closing the coat, my face turning even more scarlet, if that’s possible.  The ben wa balls rattled in my hand and brushed against my cashmere coat, leaving streaks of girl goo across the material.  I swore. Then I swore I was going to let Kari play the cleaning bill.  I bit my lop and hurried past the driver and wiggled (since I couldn’t walk very well) down the aisle and to the first seat that wasn’t immediately occupied.

                There weren’t that many people on the bus, maybe six or seven.  They were also evenly spaced out so I found myself sitting in the middle, with no one around me for two or three seats in any direction.  Taking a shuddering breath, I slipped the bus pass into my coat and pushed it down into the sleeve near my forearm.  It would stay in place if I didn’t get too crazy.  Then my hand went down between my legs, opening the front of the coat.  I pushed the vibrator deeper, stifling the accompanying groan.  Then, slowly at first, my eyes constantly darting around the bus, I began.

                Most women can quietly masturbate and yes, I’m one of them.  Under certain circumstances.  For example, I can masturbate almost silently when I’m on my bed at home, naked and spread out on the sheets, my hands between my legs, with the only sound coming from the vibrator buried inside me.  I’ve masturbated in grocery stores, in parks, on picnic tables, all without making a ruckus.  But as I slipped that ice colored, gel filled vibrator in and out, the circumstances and previous arousal did not help.  In minutes I was moaning, my lips pressed together to keep it quiet, but my bottom kept rotating, my hips working in and out even as my hand did the same. 

                One of the passengers, a man, walked right past me, getting a decent glimpse, eyes wide, but then he moved forward to the front of the bus, clearly wanting to get off.  I ignored it.  I was getting close to orgasm.  As the bus stopped and let the man off, his eyes found mine through the window and that was when I orgasmed.  It was quiet, thank God, but powerful, and I shuddered and gasped soundlessly as my body did what it does best.

                I slumped in my seat, brain fogged through the miracle of sexual release and worked my coat closed.  The ben wa balls continued to rattle in my hand, but I ignored it, instead reaching back into my sleeve and pulling out the bus pass.  The paper with the directions was wrapped around it and I checked to see what intersection I’d be getting off on.  I ignored the buzzing between my legs. I didn’t know what level the vibrator was set at, but it wasn’t terrible.  Besides, Kari hadn’t told me I could turn it off.

                It took fifteen minutes to get to my stop and at least a hundred yards out I reached between my legs, pushed the vibrator in as much as I could, adjusted my coat, made sure I had my ben wa balls and my bus pass and diretions, and stood.  Again, the walk down the aisle was intense, but doable.  At least until I got to the stairs.  There was someone at my stop, a guy, who watched with interest as I took the large steps down.  His shocked but pleased expression made it clear that my coat, which only came down mid-thigh, had certainly done little to conceal certain parts of my anatomy.  As I passed him, he grinned.

                “Nice panties,” he whispered.

        

This tale is no longer available on Michael Alexander's Blog, but can be found in its entirety in Breanne Erickson's latest novel, "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 9"!  Stop by Amazon.com today to pick up your copy!

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