A Dark Tale Ch. 02

Sylvia.

I manage to sit next to Adam on the bus, I take a deep breath, "Hi, we met yesterday."

"Oh yes, look sorry about yesterday. I've been a bit stressed lately."

I tell him there is no need to say sorry. My heart is beating like mad.

"You don't normally get on the same bus stop as me, do you?"

"No, I just started walking and I thought I was going to be late, so here I am," I say with a little laugh.

We chat for a while and he seems in a better mood. I can feel his arm against mine. I tell him my name he tells me his, Frank. He doesn't look like a Frank, but now I know, and in my fantasies I can use his real name. He chats about his work at those fancy tailors in the high street. I causally mention I've seen him going in there a few times, and then realise perhaps that sounds a bit creepy, so I quickly amend it to three times, and then I think it sounds like I'm keeping count! I cough a little nervously and shut up for a few minutes.

His overcoat is on his lap, and I just want to slip my hand under it, find his huge cock and give him a morning treat. The bus stops and he says excuse me.

"This isn't our stop, I, I mean you don't normally get off here," I bumble.

He looks at me a little weirdly, and says, "No, I have to go to the bank."

I get up and slide sideways letting him out, although I don't give him too much room, just enough so his glorious ass brushes my thigh. I sit back down, and there on the seat is his name badge, with the name of the shop and his name underneath. Did he leave it there knowing I'd find it? I pick it up running my finger tips over the gold lettering and burgundy background. A weird little thing comes in my head. When we are living together our name badges, mine from the department store, and his from the tailor's, will sit side by side on the dressing table. I'll pin his on his chest, and he'll pin mine on me, and then we'll kiss and walk down to the bus stop, arm in arm.

A woman sits next to me and says hello, but my mind and eyes are looking out of the window at Frank as he walks up the street. I hope he looks back so I can smile at him, but he doesn't. I put his name badge in my bag, running my fingers over it again.

Geoff.

Fuck, they got on the bus together, sat together, and chatted. I couldn't hear, because I was 5 seats back. I watched her turning her head and smiling at him. Look at her now gazing out the fucking window at him. She's all loved up like some teenage tart. Hey, they got on at the same stop, sat next to each other, and she can't keep her fucking eyes off him. It is obvious Geoffrey, she spent the night with him, and I thought he was fucking gay! Okay I got that wrong about him, but I haven't got her wrong. Stuck up bitch is a real bad slut deep down.

Today though I've got a surprise for her, I'm not working today and I can sit in this café over the road from York's and follow her at lunchtime. Sometimes she goes out with another girl, a short plump thing, but sometimes she goes to the sandwich bar on her own. Either way, I can watch her.

I'm enjoying the chase, and I've spent countless hours in her house, leaving my spunk on her pillow, and stealing some of her photos to copy, and then put back. I've learnt so much about her, I know what she likes to eat and drink, and that sour cream and chive dip she likes so much, well let's just say she wouldn't like it if she knew what Geoffrey Baker had done in it.

I'll start work on the play room soon. Sort of 50 shades of grey style, but the things I have there won't be just for show. I'm going to pierce her nips, if the dirty sow hasn't already. My mum had these big earrings which I kept when she died. They would look nice swinging from Sylvia's nips. Perhaps I can bend her over a dressing table, trap the earrings in the drawer, and fuck her from behind. Of course I can put a chain in her nipples too, and lead her around like my dad used to do with the cow on the farm.

"Sir, would you like anything else?"

"What? No, no I don't, get lost."

"Sir, you have been sat here for nearly two hours."

"Look lady don't get the hump with me. I'll be gone in 10 minutes, so bugger off and wipe some tables," fucking bitch.

Why is she going to the door? Fuck me a copper.

I've gone out through the back door before PC Plod comes in for a chat. I don't want him getting my name. I've been locked up before, but I didn't mind that, because the coppers got the real reason I was there wrong. Becky was like Sylvia, and I got everything ready. I was going to have her, but some nosy neighbour spotted me. The police burst in and well, I owned up to trying to rob Becky's place.

Fuck there's Sylvia.

Sylvia.

I push open the door and one of those little bells on a spring catches the top. There he is coming towards me, down three red carpeted stairs. I smile and wave his name badge. He stops and opens his arms with a look of "there it is," on his face. I hand over the badge that I had kissed just before I entered the shop

"Thanks, I thought I must have dropped it on the bus."

"It was on the seat, I thought I'd run it up to you."

"Thanks really, Cynthia."

"Sylvia," you tease, "Anyway, it's my dad's birthday soon. While I'm here I thought I'd get something for him."

"Sylvia, I'm sorry, I'll try and remember your name," he apologises, with smile.

He takes me to the back of the shop, and I can't resist a good look at his ass in those tight black trousers. I'd bury my nails in those cheeks, and not let him stop humping me for hours!

He shows me handkerchiefs, cufflinks, and ties, as we chat. I watch him move, and the confident way he runs ties though his fingers, all the time I'm wishing they were running over my body.

"I know this is going to sound insane," I laugh, "but I really like the tie you're wearing."

He smiles, takes it off, and hands it to me, explaining about it like a salesman would explain about a car. I'm just happy to have something of his in my fingers again. I tell him I want one the same, and while he turns his back I rub his tie on my cheek, wondering if he would like to use it to tie me up.

£55, for a bloody tie! Still my dad will like it. Frank walks me to the door and opens it for me.

"Sylvia, I don't suppose you?"

God here we go, yes I'd love to. He points to his tie which I'm still holding. I mask my disappointment with an embarrassed laugh, again, but I stretch up and put the tie round his neck. I smile at him, with my eyes wide open.

"You'll be on the bus tonight?"

You bet I think to myself. I smile as I walk back to work knowing, it won't be long before he asks me out, why else would he make sure I was taking the bus home? He wants me now, after a bit of a clumsy start, but all the signs are there. Maybe he did leave his name badge on the bus seat. It has to be that the more I think about it, it makes perfect sense. He's testing me, and I hope I passed. I could have waited until I saw him on the bus. But no running to his shop the first chance I got showed him how willing I am.

Geoff.

She is fucking worse than I thought. I watched her checking her reflection in the big window at York's, fiddling with her hair, and spraying that perfume on her neck, and then a quick look round, and a quick spray between her tits.

No friend today, no trip to the sandwich bar, straight to that lover of hers. I watched from outside and there he was. They went to the back of the shop and I couldn't see anything for 20 minutes, but it all makes sense now, they had gone in some little store room, and he fucked her brains out. I know because the brazen bitch had his fucking tie in her hands, and she hung it round his neck right in the open shop doorway before she left. I watched her walk down the road with a huge grin on her face; I bet her fucking pussy had a grin too!

Sylvia.

I'm sat on the bus waiting for him. He's going to be late if he doesn't hurry. I've saved his seat, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to stop people sitting next to me. I've changed clothes at work. I'm going to tell him I'm going to see a friend. I'll make sure he knows it's a woman friend.

It'll go something like this.

"Hello Sylvia, you like nice."

"Thank you Frank, I'm going to see my friend, she's been very ill. Then I'm going out for something to eat, although, I don't like going in pubs on my own."

"Oh which pub would that be?"

I'd tell him and cross my legs, he'll look at my thigh, and then smile at me.

"Perhaps when you've visited your friend, I could meet you in the pub, if you would like some company."

And bang, Frank and I start a long, sexy, and loving relationship. But he had better hurry up or he'll miss the bus.

I should try this zip once more. I pull it up, and then go to push it back down, it sticks. I tug, try again but the zip is stuck, and won't go any lower. I'm getting desperate now. I have a quick glance around me and tug the zip up even more. That didn't work; it went higher but didn't come down! I'm going to have to take my coat off. The doors on the bus are closing, and Frank isn't here and I'm showing...oh shit!

This is major embarrassing. As I went to stand to take my coat off, someone has plonked himself right next to me; he's sat on my coat too, so I can't cover myself.

Geoff.

Fucking hell, I took a chance and sat right next to her, and what a fucking glorious sight! She's a fucking flasher!

Sylvia.

I can't look him in the eye, I can't say would you mind getting up so I can take my coat off and cover myself. I'll just have to stare out of the window, and hope he gets off at the next stop.

Geoff.

I got no clue what she is up to, but Sylvia didn't wear this to work. Does she know how sexy she looks; well of course she does Geoffrey Baker. Look at that fucking milky white thigh with a black suspender strap holding up one of those smoky black stockings in place.

She's wearing a red skirt, not as short as her work skirts, but it doesn't need to be. It's got a gold zip running down the front, which wouldn't be that sexy, but the zip is pulled right up, and it opens from bottom all the way to top.

You see this is asking for it. I know she is stuck up, and wouldn't ask me for help if her tits were on fire, because I don't wear a suit, but Sylvia you are flashing it all to me. I can see the round silver clip that holds the nylon over that plastic bump. It's teasing me, sticking out from the opening of her skirt.

I can feel the tension in her arm, and I can see the tension of her legs jammed together. It's like she is expecting something nasty to try forcing its way up between her thighs. Now I know she likes wearing those short skirts, but this is fucking sexy, perhaps sexier. It's open showing everything, a few more inches on that zip and I'd see her knickers. Perhaps she isn't wearing knickers, but Sylvia you is so close to showing it all, you have to be.

Sylvia.

This is awful, I know he's looking, but I can't do anything. I'm trapped in this seat against the window, and praying the bus driver can break all records to my stop, which is exactly the opposite of what I want when I'm sat next to Frank.

Perhaps I should get off at the next stop? Yeah a good idea, but then again what if he gets off, and then follows me to where I live?!

I can see out the corner of my eye, my white thighs and stocking tops. Hopefully the guy is blind. Hell no he wouldn't be, would he? Damn I could have said something, when he first sat down. I could have asked him to wait and explained about my stuck zip, and could he please wait a minute while I covered my embarrassment with my coat. I should have said that but now it would seem that I don't want him looking.

I've just missed a stop. I've got to relax my legs a bit. I've got them clenched together like a frightened virgin on a bus full of drunken football hooligans.

Geoff.

Fuck look at her legs twitching, and now she is easing them apart a bit. I bet she's fucking wet right now. She is a tease, and to be honest this is making my head hurt. I just want one touch, but she'd jump a mile, or would she?

You see I've read her diary, diary, don't make me laugh, it's full of sex. All her thoughts and sexy things, and while I don't like reading I couldn't put it down. It's on her beside cabinet. I was bone hard after two pages that's what reading it did to me. Then I opens the cupboard underneath, and there's another 5 books with dates, from and to, on the cover. Okay they were in the cupboard, but her latest one was on show, a bit like her silky thighs right now.

She is taunting you Geoffrey Baker, whether she knows it or not, she is doing all this to tease you. Well there's no sign of pretty boy, I reckon she wore him out lunchtime.

Oh this is magical, almost heaven sent if you believe in all that stuff. The only thing I like about church is the lead on the roof, that's made me a tidy few quid. The trick is to nick it, leave it a few weeks, and then bump into the vicar. Then tell him I happen to notice he is missing some lead, and I know a mate in the trade who can help him out. A week or two later the vicar pays up for same lead going back on the very roof it came from. So heaven sent or not, things are getting even better, we are stuck in a traffic jam on a bridge now.

Sylvia.

Now what, why the hell have we stopped here? People are straining in their seats to see why we're stuck up here, but not the guy next to me, oh no, he's quite happy with the view he's got right next to him, both of my stocking tops! Well I suppose this is my fault. Mind you, I'm getting used to being forced to show my stocking tops off to him now. He is sat on my coat, so I can't cover my thighs. One thing is for sure, I bet he doesn't tell his wife when he fucks her that he has my stocking tops on his mind. It must be torture for him sat there with me like this, a dirty disgusting workman the type that whistle in the streets as I walk by. They know we hear it, and most of us ignore it. But I wonder how many of them would like to know how many of us like to hear it? A group of dirty workmen, with their thoughts of getting their disgusting sweaty cocks in me, yummy!

Oh we're off again, and I'm starting to enjoy this a little more. My heart is still thumping and my palms are a little sweaty, but it is different now, now I'm thinking sexy thoughts. I wonder how he would react if I crossed my legs? I'd make him notice too, if he didn't see it he'd hear the nylon rub together.

I still haven't looked at him, and to be honest I don't want to. But I can see his hand on his leg, it's huge. It looks rough too, real workers hands. His knuckles look big and a little swollen, sort of like a boxer when they take their gloves off after a fight.

Geoff.

I can understand why women are used in films to get information out of spies. I mean looking at her right now I'd spill the beans about anything. She's sat there all stuck up and like she isn't doing anything wrong.

I slip my hand to the side of my leg, I only have to move it a few inches and I can touch her skirt, maybe pull it open a bit more. Or I could just grab it and rip it right open, and help myself to her love box. I bet she shaves it, or has someone come round to wax it for her, probably the latter. Some poor little bitch has to do it for her. I'd do it for her, and I wouldn't piss about. Slap it on and rip it off.

She hasn't noticed that my knuckle is on her skirt. Well she wouldn't it's down between us out if sight. It feels quite a thick sort of skirt which helps too. I wonder should I rub a little harder, I'm barley using any pressure. I could make out I'm scratching my leg. Yeah fuck it Geoff, go for it.

Sylvia.

Just two more stops and then mine. I've relaxed a lot now, but, hell, he's scratching his leg, and oh my god, I can feel the back of his hand brushing over my skirt. I gulp but I don't move, like I should.

I gasp and pant and he must have heard it despite me doing it quietly.

I've got to move my leg away, or he'll think I'm enjoying this. I move my leg a couple of inches, but I can feel my skirt being held. The gap between both sides of my skirt has opened even more, exposing more stocking top and more of my thighs.

Why don't I slap his face?

Geoff.

Fuck she's just sitting there and oh what a lovely view I've got now. It's like peeling back a wrapper on a bar of chocolate, exposing that which you just want to get in your mouth. You can keep your chocolate, what I want in my mouth is her plump pussy lips. God I'd chew on them for hours, with the occasional swipe deep between them.

You know I could pull her skirt wide open. Would she react, she hasn't yet and I haven't let go of her skirt. She'll be getting off in two stops. I'll have to move she'll have to say excuse me.

Now I'm not without a little compassion. You see the chase and looking is just as important to me as fucking her into next week, and making her gag on my John Thomas. So I think I'll get off at the stop before hers.

Sylvia.

My eyes are glued to the right side of my skirt, as it is slowly begin pulled. My right leg is fully out in the open, and I can feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter.

I'm just looking down at my stocking top, my suspender strap, and my naked thigh, knowing he is staring there too. It's like I'm frozen in time, but I know I'm not. I know I can move my hand and cover my leg up, but I don't want to!

Before this he might have had a fleeting memory of my legs when he fucks his wife, if he has one. Now he won't be able to stop thinking about me, and wonder why I didn't scream or at the very least tug my skirt closed.

I can't look at him, I can't do it. All I can do is look at the thing he is probably looking at, the name on my stocking top, the little wrinkle in it, and then the tightness, where nylon is being held by the clasp on my white thighs.

For a long minute I sit there looking down. His hand still has hold of my skirt, but he is twisting his hand so his fingers are against my trembling thigh! Yes it's against my thigh above my stocking top, flesh touching flesh, and I can feel his finger going under my suspender strap. It moves back and forth for a while, and then stops at my stocking top.

Everything is trembling I know my face is like a furnace, and my heart is banging so much I swear I can feel my chest moving, but my pussy feels like she is being let down, at this state of arousal surely someone should be fucking me!

I don't understand why I'm letting this happen. His touch is surprisingly soft, but with a firmness that demands I let him do what he likes. So here I sit letting this total stranger grope me. God, even that word, grope, makes me shudder. I can feel a finger worm its way under my stocking top. I take a deep breath and look down. Now I can see his finger under the dark nylon. It is like it isn't my leg but I know it is, I can feel it and I'm just sitting here like an idiot letting him touch me.

He is inches from my pussy, but he hasn't made any attempt to touch me there. I've got tears in my eyes, tears of fear and frustration. It is like we are alone on the bus, but I know we're not.

"Shit!"

His hand recoils because I broke the spell. For some reason the other passengers on the bus had gone out of my mind. Then when I thought about them, I realised how wrong this is. Did they see what was happening? I daren't look anywhere other than out of the window. They heard my exclamation, I know they did. I just have to sit here staring out of the window, and into the black of the evening we get at this time of the year.

He's moving. He gets up and I tug my coat over my thighs. He's getting off the stop before mine. I must have frightened him I guess, screaming out like that. As the bus pulls away I can see his back walking away from the bus stop. I watch as his long dark coat and black bobble hat melts into the fog and darkness.