What Happens On The Bus From Vegas

The lights dimmed and Deb gasped. Zumanity is billed as the sensual side of Cirque du Soleil, and it lived up to that description from the first minute. Part burlesque, part cabaret, amusing skits, impressive acrobatics, and incredible stage production—all underlined by a tasteful but decidedly risqué theme. It had Debbie squirming in her seat.

We sat with arms around each other in the relative privacy of the 'duo sofa', and we weren't many minutes into the show before I felt her hand on my thigh, her fingers reaching for my bulge. I glanced around. We would be in full view of the performers, but in the semi-dark of the theater, audience members would have to look pretty hard to see us making out. A lesbian couple on the sofa to our right had no interest in us. They were openly pawing and deep kissing each other. Deb's jaw dropped and she stared at them openly.

I leaned over to Deb and whispered "This night...is getting interesting." She squeezed my knee and turned her attention back to the stage.

One of the sixteen acts called for darkness. The house lights went down and the audience's sole focus was on the bright stage. I slipped a hand under Deb's dress. She parted her knees slightly and I moved my fingers to the hinge of her thighs. She was soaking wet. I moved her panties aside and stroked her bare pussy. She slouched lower on the couch and sighed.

A quick glance around told me that although they might be able to guess what was going on, no audience member could see what we were doing. Deb gripped the front of my pants and stroked me through my khakis. It was almost an unconscious movement. I moved up to her clit and massaged it gently. I could hear Debbie humming in satisfaction over the music. I was impressed -- this was so out of character for her. Our activity was fairly discrete, yet we were in a public theater and the cast on the stage had a clear view.

I concentrated on her clit and she tightened her grip on my shaft, and suddenly—the lights came on again!

The act was over and to this day neither of us has a clue about what had happened on the stage. We straightened up as the house lights slowly brightened and the narrator announced the start of the next act.

Dammit. I knew Deb had been on the edge. All I'd needed was a few more minutes.

She straightened her dress, took a sip of her chardonnay, and gave me a sexy wink over the rim of her glass. I squeezed her knee and we turned our attention back to the show. The men were muscled Adonis types and the women were athletic and sexy. There was plenty of nudity and the performances and the narrative left nothing to the audience's imagination. It wasn't overtly sexual, but it shamelessly conveyed lust and passion and sensuality.

But it was the sexual energy glowing from my wife, the frustration of the interruption, that transformed the steamy into the erotic.

* * * * *

Back at Caesar's we lined up for the luxury bus that would have us back in Los Angeles before sunrise. It was 12:50 am, there was no conversation, and there was no evidence of Las Vegas's legendary heat. Everyone was huddled quietly in coats and jackets. The young woman in front of Deb and me reached for her cell phone and called a friend.

"Hey, Jackie, it's Amanda. Sorry it's so late. I just wanted to let you know I'm coming back to L.A. tonight."

She was obviously leaving a voice mail for a friend. I took a step sideways and as I'd thought, 'Amanda' was our cocktail waitress, 'Mandi'. She looked very different in a plain skirt, a thin gray sweater and a thick ski jacket. Her hair was pulled back into a dull looking pony-tail and the makeup had been removed. Mandi's incredibly sexy legs and perfect buns and deep cleavage were well camouflaged beneath Amanda's dowdy, practical travel clothes. The sultry Mandi now looked like any one of a thousand students across America.

The conversation continued- "Paul managed to get a few days leave, and he's driving up from Camp Pendleton. He says he's coming up for the Valentine's weekend. He'll pick me up at the bus depot later tonight—this morning, actually—so I don't think I'll be back at the apartment for a few days. Bye. I'll see you in a few days."

We filed onto the bus, which was half empty. Deb and I took dual seats near the back I took the aisle seat so I could stretch my legs. Mandi—or was it Amanda—slid into the seats directly across from us. Deb twiddled her fingers in a "hello". Mandi would probably have recognized us, or pretended to. Amanda didn't seem to know us and acknowledged Deb with a half-wave and just the flicker of a smile. She flipped the center armrest up, leaned her back against the window and pulled her feet onto the seat next to her. She pulled her ski jacket over her knees like a blanket, closed her eyes and settled in for the long trip. The seats directly in front of us were unoccupied.

As the lights of Las Vegas fell behind us Deb also pulled up the center armrest, so we were once again in a two-seater.

We'd been traveling for about three hours, and neither of us had managed to sleep. A few passengers toward the middle of the bus had turned on their reading lights so a faint light spilled across us.

I leaned over and whispered directly into Debbie's ear. "So what did you think of the show?"

"Amazing," she whispered back. "So sexy!"

"They didn't hide much, did they? Pretty blatant."

"You know what was blatant?" She slipped her hand under my jacket. "A sexy guy was feeling me up. Right there in the theater, in front of everyone!" She giggled.

"Right there in the theater," I agreed, "but no one could really see anything."

"Oh really? I think some of the performers were watching pretty closely. And those girls next to us, the lesbian couple, they got a good look."

"And you-" I moved my hand under her jacket and felt her panty line through the thin fabric of her dress. "You didn't stop me. You just spread your legs and went with the flow!"

"When in Vegas..." she chuckled.

"I was pissed off when the lights came on."

"You weren't as upset as I was!" I laughed, then caught my breath. Her fingers were working the zipper on my khakis. I glanced around. The only person within sight was Amanda. She faced us but had been asleep before we left the city.

Deb worked her hand into my briefs and pulled my cock out, then reached up and undid my belt and unhooked the waistband. I was hard almost immediately.

"This night..." I whispered, "just gets more and more interesting!"

"Sshhh!" Deb reached in and freed my balls from the confines of my underwear. I spread my knees and slouched down, glancing across at Amanda again to be sure we were safe.

She traced the length of my shaft with her fingernails, then teased my knob. Her hand went over the top then caressed the sensitive frenulum beneath the glans, then went over the top, squeezed playfully, and scooped up a wad of pre-cum.

I buried my face in her hair in the crook of her neck. It was all I could do to keep still and silent.

Deb scooped more pre-cum and rubbed it gently along the length of my cock, then squeezed it tight and started pumping seriously.

She moved her lips directly to my ear and whispered "don't look now, but we have an audience."

I jerked my head upward, but she held me down and whispered again. "Sshh—she's enjoying it!"

I looked down as Deb continued her long, tight stroking motion under my jacket. Even a casual onlooker would know what was happening. There was no way it could be misconstrued as anything else.

"She's watching?"

"Oooh yes," replied Deb, and worked her hand up and down, slow but firm, pulling hard at the top and slamming firmly against my pubic bone at the bottom. I strained to look to the right without being obvious about it. Amanda's eyes were wide open and focused with laser intensity on the movements beneath my jacket.

"Don't stop," I whispered to Deb. In reply, she shoved my jacket onto the floor.

I froze. She carried on pumping with long, deliberate thrusts.

I was completely exposed. The pre-cum was running down my corona into Debbie's hand. My balls were shoved up and out of my pants. My seven inches seemed to grow into eight, and I was so hard it was almost painful. I had to give my wife full marks for consistency. There was no hesitation in her rhythm, no change in her grip. Just the same concentrated repeated motion, again and again and again.

I stole a look across at Amanda. Her eyes were still on Debbie's action, but there was movement under the jacket she'd used as a blanket. I looked again. There could be no doubt—she was diddling herself under her jacket, under her skirt.

My chest shivered, my hands were shaking, and I thrust my hips up is opposition to Debbie's movements to accentuate the intensity.

"I can't hold it," I told Deb. My whisper was hoarse and I'm sure Amanda could hear it, but I didn't care. "Can't hold-"

She scooted her butt to the far side of her seat, leaned over and took me in her mouth. It was too much to hold back. The soft warm wetness on my mushroom head, the flick of her tongue against the tip, the plunging of her fist against my pubis, the tight grip around my shaft, and the exposure! The blatant, exhibitionism, and the raw carnal excitement that was shared silently among the three of us.

With a muted grunt I thrust my hips up and froze. I felt the familiar pressure on my prostate, the tightness at the base of my shaft, and a second later, the fluid streaming up the length of my cock. I grunted again.

She swallowed the first ejaculation. She kept the second and the third and—I lost count.

I collapsed in my seat, my dripping cock slowly going flaccid on the front of my khakis. Deb leaned in for a deep kiss. She'd kept a mouthful of cum, and pushed it into my mouth, and I returned it. Snowballing wasn't something we did regularly, but tonight it seemed natural.

Across the aisle, Amanda's hands were still moving furiously under her jacket.

I stuffed myself back into my pants, ignored the patch of cum on the front, and didn't bother to zip up. I leaned over to Deb and whispered "your turn?"

"Mmmmm!"

"This night-"

She tossed her jacket onto the floor, next to mine, and flipped her dress up to her waist. There was no underwear. I had no idea when she'd removed them. Leaned back against the window, swung her right leg across my lap and crooked her knee. Her left foot went onto my thigh and the knee fell sideways. She was completely exposed. I could see the glint of her wetness. The odor of her desire wafted gently upward, and I could feel the heat radiating from her.

Deb put her fingers to her mouth and extracted a handful of the cum that she'd kept there, and started rubbing.

There was no pretense of privacy anymore. I swung my head to the right, hoping Amanda was still watching.

Her jacket was on the floor too. Her feet were together on the seat, her knees were splayed, her skirt had been lifted up, and she was pawing herself furiously with both hands. Her eyes were on Debbie's pussy. I looked left. Deb's eyes were on Amanda's pussy.

I was bracketed by two beautiful women masturbating openly, on a public bus. One was in her forties, the other was probably barely past twenty, and both were equally desirable. My cock stirred again.

Not wanting to disturb her rhythm, or to block Amanda's view, I caressed the inside of Debbie's right thigh and stroked her vulva with the tips of my fingers.

Deb was panting now. That usually means she's close to coming though you never know if it will be a little lady-like thrill, an explosive climax, or the start of a series of multiple orgasms.

Swinging my head to the right I locked eyes with Amanda and smiled briefly before she looked down again, far more interested in watching my wife than exchanging grins with me. Amanda was clean shaven and had the kind of inner labia that protrude outward in what I think must be a tasty mouthful. Her bare legs were just as sexy as they'd been in stockings when she was in her Mandi persona. It didn't matter how plain her travel outfit was—this was one incredibly sexy woman.

She stretched her arm and inserted her index finger deep into her pussy, then a second finger, and started pumping them hard, almost violently. Her other hand moved furiously over her clit.

Looking the other way, my wife was deliberately mimicking Amanda. Two fingers inserted deep, slamming in and out, the other hand working that clit with an intensity that seemed to border on anger.

I noticed for the first time that we were passing through a suburban area now, and distant streetlamps illuminated the interior. The juices coated her hands and glistened like diamonds on her fingers in the passing lights.

Deb gasped, and I knew she was coming. It was awkward at this angle, but I managed to slip my hand below her butt cheeks and finger the rosebud of her ass with my index finger. That set her off.

"Oh, OH!"

"Sshh!"

"Oh fuck!" It a whisper, but loud enough that I knew Amanda would hear.

Deb's thighs started gyrating, then she thrust herself upward against her hands in a series of powerful spasms. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she clamped both hands against her pussy as if to contain herself. Her juices trickled between her fingers.

She snapped her eyes open and looked to the seat across the bus. We were moving through a more built-up area now and it was getting bright in here.

Amanda's eyes were wide, as if in amazement at what she'd just witnessed. She glanced at Deb and me, saw us watching, and increased the pace. Her fingers moved across her exposed clit in a blur, her other hand seemed to be permanently shoved into the depths of her pussy.

Her orgasm was completely silent. She squeezed her eyes closed and swung her knees inward, clamping her hands, then outward so she could masturbate freely, then closed them again. After what seemed like five minutes but was probably just thirty seconds, she straightened her legs so they snaked across the aisle and rested against the edge of my seat, and with her eyes still closed, she sucked the fingers of her left hand and drew several long, deep breaths.

We were now passing high rise buildings and bright streetlamps, and the bus slowed for a traffic light. Debbie straightened her dress and picked up the jackets. I did up my fly and my belt, and we pulled our jackets over our laps. Opposite us, Amanda had drawn her knees up again, draped her jacket over them, and her eyes were closed.

Besides the fact that my heart rate was still accelerated with the excitement, it was as though nothing had happened.

I put my arm around my wife and she rested her head against my shoulder. "This night...just got weird," I whispered.

"Sshh."

* * * * *

The bus snaked its way into the terminus. We'd made good time and the sun wouldn't rise for another hour. Amanda was the first up and rushed to the front of the bus before we had come to a stop.

A tall marine waited at the door with half a dozen roses in one hand, and a red heart-shaped candy box in the other.

"That's sweet," whispered Deb as we stood.

Amanda was the first off the bus and ran to her soldier. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Aww!" Intoned Debbie.

Debbie doesn't travel light, so it took a while for us to retrieve our bags. After a cursory check to ensure that everything was there, and a generous tip to the driver, we were the last people out of the terminus and made our way to the parking lot across the street. It was a multi-storied building, and when I'd parked our huge rental SUV there several days ago, the only available spot was on the top floor. I paid at the machine on the ground level and we took the elevator. Ours was the only car on the top deck. I started the SUV and looked at Deb.

"Jesus, honey, that was something!"

"It's your fault," she chuckled. "You took me to that sexy show!"

"This night..." I shook my head, "will be something to remember." I backed out of the space, and started the long spiral downward, through empty floors of the parking garage, working our way downward, to the street level.

An old 1990s Ford Taurus was the only car parked on the ground floor, with someone in the driver's seat.

"Oh my God," exclaimed Deb, pointing at the car.

There was a second person in the car. She was leaning across the center console, clearly giving the driver a blow job. As we approached the Ford I saw the red heart-shaped candy box on the dashboard, and as we drove by, Amanda sat up and looked straight at us. Debbie twiddled her fingers at her. Amanda waved back with a broad smile, and then she was out of sight as we approached the exit gate.

"Jeee-ZUZ!" I exclaimed.

"Honey, let's not waste any time. I want to get back to the hotel as quickly as we can, please."

"Okay...but why?"

"Because this night-", she put on a sultry voice. "Is not yet over!"

* * * * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Debbie and I would very much appreciate your rating. A positive rating, we hope, as this story is our entry into the Valentine's Day competition.

Feel free to leave comments as well.