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I could hardly believe it. I wasn't gay. I was married. Even so I was aroused.With still 15 mins to go to my stop I unzipped and pulled out my cock and slowly brought myself to an intense climax out all over the bus floor.As I got off the bus, red faced and hoping the conductor wouldn't notice anything I wondered what the fuck had just happened. I felt abused, definitely. Maybe like a woman must do when she has been flashed.All evening I was running it over and over in my mind. Was I at fault ? Do I look 'gay' ? Should I have just told him to do one? Why had I been so aroused ? All evening while watching TV I was replaying the sight of his big cock being massaged. The sight of his foreskin slipping silkily over his helmet. My mrs sitting next to me noticed I had an erection and as she stroked me through my clothes she was telling me she wanted me and we should go to bed early.We did, and we made love, when I came in her it was his thick spurting penis that was in my mind.A. Jenny thought the white knee socks and shortness of her skirt really showed off the tan she had gotten that summer. Her long straight blonde hair, held in a ponytail, shined in the mid-afternoon sun, and her face was that of an innocent angel, framed by her golden bangs, with dimples and bright blue eyes. Jenny stopped at the corner by her home. Turning to her left, she saw a man in a car, wanting to make a right-hand turn. She waited, expecting him to turn in front of her, but he motioned her to cross ahead of him. Not wanting to delay him, she ran across the street, her flimsy little pleated school skirt swishing and dancing high on her little ass as she ran. She did it intentionally, knowing that the man might have gotten a tiny glimpse of her white cotton panties. When she got across the street, she resumed walking but looked back over her shoulder at the turning automobile. The car had turned, but she could see his head pointed in her direction, his eyes clearly fastened on her.
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In my inebriated state, I care even less than usual, and deliberately fill my glass slowly, to give him time for a good look. I even give them a little jiggle, to enhance the effect. I flash a friendly smile as I surrender my place at the sink, and he grins back. He’s actually quite good-looking, in a slightly feminine-looking way, wearing a tight plain white t-shirt that shows off his well-toned upper body, and skinny jeans. I wonder if the rest of him looks as good. “That’s a nice dress,” he says, not slurring his words too much, “That colour really suits you.” “Thanks,” I say, taking a good swig at my drink. “It’s new. I bought it specially for tonight, though I don’t know why I bothered. My friend cried off at the last minute, and I don’t really know many people here.” “I’m sort of on my own too,” he says. “I know Ben from way back, but we’ve sort of lost touch recently. You know what it’s like.” I nod. “I know; he’s really a friend of Sandra – my friend – which is why I almost.

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