The Woman on the Bus

I tell you again, and you do not believe me. Intelligence is not a key to happiness. I am majoring in computer science at Newton University, and I have never been more alone, never more miserable.

I have just stepped out of class. We discussed Turing machines once again today. For the layperson, these are extremely robust mathematical models of computers. Relatively simple, they can do anything a real computer can do.

I'm starting to lose it. My only friends have become these abstract machines. I think about them all day, and they won't let me sleep. I want human companionship. I want a girlfriend. Don't you know I have never had one? And I see happy people all around me, holding hands on the sidewalk, making out in the bookstore, and it makes me insane.

To avoid burning out, I decided to take a trip to Jamestown this weekend and visit my friend there. I would leave campus on foot at five, be at the station at five-thirty, and take the bus to Jamestown at six.

So here I am at the bus station, exhausted, depressed. But at least I have the weekend to look forward to. At least I have my health and my freedom. The bus driver gives me what I perceive to be a haughty look as I pay the fare, and I make my way to the very back of the bus. There are too many people in the front. I feel uncomfortable there.

Now the bus is moving. Now I can watch the clouds. At the next stop, my thoughts are interrupted. A woman has stepped into the bus, and she takes her seat across from me as the bus speeds off again.

She is a skinny brunette, Asian. Petite and aloof, she wears a thick set of glasses that give her an extremely studious air. Her long, black hair falls down to her shoulders, but I detect a streak of gray. Perhaps from too much studying? She is really starting to excite me.

Her white collared blouse is made of a thin transparent fabric that does not leave much to the imagination. I can see the lovely outline of her bra with those little nipples perking out! The woman's tight blue cotton skirt is cut way too low. Hugging her beautiful thighs, it lets me see most of her legs, so smooth and white. All the way down to her delicate naked feet that reside in a comfortable pair of sandals. Her toenails are painted black. So are her fingernails, as a matter of fact. Her mere presence is teasing me to no end.

I usually spend my time on the bus checking out women, and this could be no exception. Rarely have I seen a woman this attractive, and there is a special quality to this girl. I might be moving a little hastily here, but I think I want her for my girlfriend.

The key now was how to check out different parts of her body without being noticed. I know I would die if her eyes met mine, if she knew how dirty my thoughts were. Noticing windows on either side of her, I pretended to look from one window to another, scanning her luscious body each time.

The first thing I noticed again was her face. What long black eyelashes she had, and what deep brown eyes! I saw her subconsciously twitching her hand. What if that hand suddenly moved forward and touched the crotch of my pants? Then she would begin circling her hand around on my pants, slowly, slowly. Her lips would be slightly puckered while performing this action, her eyes smiling. Occasionally, she would lick her lips, but never kiss me. I do not know what I would do! I would cum instantly!

The temperature in the bus was very high, and I saw a drop of sweat run down her forehead. It slowly made its way down her cheek, down her neck, into her shirt. What if I could run my finger along that bead of sweat? Her skin would be so soft and moist from the sweat. Its pores would be vulnerable, open, begging me to kiss them, protect that imperceptible tenderness. I would kiss her neck, slowly massaging it with my tongue, begging it not to be tense.

I began to take note of her breathing. Every time she inhaled, her breasts moved ever so slightly. I imagined her pressing her hand up to her skirt, stroking that unattainable spot through the fabric. Her breathing becomes more excited. Her breasts are so agitated they rip through the shirt. My lady begins moaning in soft orgasm.

In my fantasy she motions for me to approach her, and nuzzles her breasts against my erection. They are so hot with the blood rushing through them that I cannot help myself. I ejaculate instantly.

I examine her neck again. It must have a beautiful smell, especially when it is sweaty. What a lovely tint it has, what a lovely Adam's apple!

Adam's apple?

Oh shit, I was checking out a guy this whole time. I don't have anything against homosexuals or homosexuality, but this was just a weird experience.

That's it. I've had it with the constant struggle to get laid. On the bus I finished my cryptology homework and began reading a text on automated theorem proving. When I arrived in Jamestown, I hung out with my friend. The next night I went to the nearest brothel and lost my virginity to a hooker.

That is the story of my first time. It was all thanks to that woman on the bus.