A Brief ‘Bus Station’ Encounter

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This is a short story which might be considered a modern day take of the 1945 movie.


The cut-throat razor hovers over the sleeping woman’s throat. The slow beating of her heart visible as her blood pulses through her exposed artery. Moonlight shines off the cold steel, briefly reflecting soulless eyes before it touches her skin. Closing my eyes, I brace myself in anticipation.

A jarring musical score kicks in, and my girlfriend jumps, turning from the TV to grin at me in scared excitement. I manage a half-hearted smile in reply. My girlfriend invited me over for Halloween, saying we’d be alone all night. I’d expected something other than a movie marathon of incredibly gory, yet amazingly cheesy films. This was the third one tonight, and they did nothing for me. She loved this sort of thing and had decorated her flat with so much cheap and tacky Halloween decorations, I thought I’d walked into a kid’s party.

It was my birthday tomorrow and she’d been not too subtly hinting, for a while, that she had something special planned. This wasn’t it. Without thinking I lift my arm from around her shoulder to check my watch. What a rookie move!

“You have somewhere else to be?” She snaps. “Being with your girlfriend not enough for you? You want to head off to see someone else?” She pushes my arm off her and jumps up angrily.

“To be honest this wasn’t what I was expecting…” I start to reply.

“I know what you were expecting, and there’s no chance of that now. After all, I’ve done to make this place nice for your birthday.”

“My birthday? This looks like preparations for a ten year olds party in here. As it happens, I grew out of jelly and ice-cream years ago, unlike some.” I knew the second I said it, I’d made matters worse.

“Fine, as it happens this works out for the best. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you it’s over between us. I’ve been seeing Karl behind your back for a while now.” That was a kick in the nuts. Not the breakup as such; we both knew we had been circling the drain for a while. Call me shallow, but if I’m honest, I’d only hung on this long because of the ‘special’ plans for my birthday.

However, the thought of her cheating with him! The pair worked together and the few times I’d met him, he gave me the impression of being slimy.

“You can fuck off to whatever is more important than me and I’ll call him over. At least he likes this stuff!” She gestures to the decorations.

“In that case, you’d better watch out. If he likes this shit, he’s probably a paedophile.” Childish I know, but I didn’t want her to have the last word. I snatch up my coat to storm out, but the effect is spoiled as my keys drop from my pocket into a discarded shoe.

Outside, I shiver as I slip into my heavy winter coat. The forecast predicted snow tonight and it seems they might be right for once. As I stuff my hands into my pockets I am reminded about what I’d been expecting. Just over two months ago, she abruptly asked if I’d ever had anal sex, saying she was surprised how much porn included it. Neither of us had, and when I asked if she wanted to try it, she was noncommittal. The following week she told me, without too much guile, that she had something special planned on my birthday. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to add two and two together. So tonight I’d brought massage cream, condoms, and lube in anticipation. Which now turns out to be a complete waste of money. Money, I really could have used right now to get a taxi home. Instead, my twenty years olds limited income means I’m stuck catching a bus.

Trudging down the road, my hands buried in my pockets, it’s impossible not to dwell on when ‘it’ had started with my ex. On the pedestrianised high street are late night dog walkers and drunken revellers. A small group of drunken women are laughing at a man with his trousers around his ankles mooning them, as his equally drunk friends yell encouragement. Seeing the groups together gives me an idea of when it must have started.

Two weeks ago she’d gone to a work’s night out and I’d offered to take her home afterward. Don’t think too highly of me. I only did it knowing she can get quite frisky when she’s drunk, and had planned to take advantage of that. Seems that Karl had beaten me to it. It explains why we didn’t talk for days afterward, despite numerous text messages asking if she was ok. And why she stopped dropping comments about my birthday plans. Oh well, fuck the bitch, if that’s the way it goes. Better a clean break than picking over the corpse of a dead relationship.

A short cut down a back lane brings the bus station into view. The place is shut, but the waiting room is open 24/7. I jog across the road, and then push open the heavy door. White-washed brick, buzzing fluorescent tubes, hard plastic seats and the smell of bleach, that doesn’t quite cover the hint of piss. An elderly couple is huddled up in one corner near a radiator. I nod a greeting and struggle to shut the door properly against the chill wind.

“Don’t illegal bahis bother lad, it’s knackered, just like everything else around here.” the old man comments.

“John!” His wife chides him and he just shrugs.

“It’s true.”

I take a seat next to the pair, partially to block the piercing draft from the door, but mostly to get closer to the heat. We sit quietly, watching the world go by. Cars and taxis pass regularly. The two groups I’d seen earlier stagger past, giggling. They appear to have hooked up with each other. The women in the group are wearing clothing that is entirely unsuitable in this weather.

“Look at the state of them.” The wife comments. “Going around looking like harlots.” Her husband nods, but watches them intently, until they wobble out of sight.

I feel a twinge of regret over my break up. I hate the effort involved in starting a new relationship; the bullshit toing and froing, the ‘Do you like this? Me too.’ Crap. But ultimately, what I probably hated the most was the gap between the start of a relationship and the commencement of sex, especially as I’d expected to get laid tonight.

A bus pulls up and the old people slowly gather their bags. I hold the door open for them, and then quickly return to the radiator. My bus isn’t due until 12:05 and its only 11:10 now. I wrap myself snugly in my coat and close my eyes to wait.

A short time later a gust of cold air fills the room as the door is pushed open. In walks a woman on her own. I glance over without being too obvious. This attire is even less appropriate than the previous outfits I’d seen. Is that supposed to be a Goth stripper or a sexy zombie stripper? Doc Martens, red fishnet stockings, one garter and a skirt so short it stretched the definition to a breaking point. Her black leather jacket barely comes down to her waist. Below it hangs a t-shirt covered by two string vests, one purple, and one black. Her hair is unnaturally black and her makeup, pale with a hint of bluish lipstick. Difficult to guess her age, but I’d guess late twenties.

“Great! Now I’m stuck here with a drunken tramp!” She mutters under her breath. She slams the door violently and it actually shuts properly. I notice a few flakes of snow falling outside.

“Neither actually,” I reply, a little miffed. My coat may have seen better days, but at least it is weather appropriate. She looks startled by my reply but doesn’t comment.

Throwing herself down in the chair opposite, she flinches the second her bare skin touches the cold plastic. She tugs ineffectively at the short skirt.

“On top of everything else, I’m going to get fucking frostbite in my fanny.” She mutters almost inaudibly. Then she glares at me and snaps her legs closed. My eyes had been involuntarily drawn to the flash of red underwear under her skirt.

“What are you looking at?” She demands.

“I’m looking at someone who obviously did not expect to be catching the bus home tonight. Swap seats?”

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“Because you’re cold and this is the warmest part of the room. Actually, I think you need more than just the radiator. Take my coat for a bit, until you warm up.” Shrugging from the coat, I add.

“Never let it be said, that I let a woman get frostbite in her vagina.” She blushes but puts the coat on. She’s swamped by it. Her hands don’t make it to the end of the sleeves and it reaches almost to her knees.

As she sits, the condoms and lube fall from the pocket. Now it’s my turn to be embarrassed.

“Looks like you had different plans for tonight as well?” She picks them up and puts them back in the pocket, then taps the seat next to her. “Sit. Tell me what happened to you, so it makes my night seem less shit.”

So I explain but leave out the more embarrassing details. She nods in all the right places.

“Ok, that’s definitely worse than my night. My flatmate invited me to her office Halloween party. It’s a free bar, but I had to dress up. She even suggested this fucking outfit. Told me there were some hot guys waiting for me. I begged a lift from my creepy stepdad, but when I got there I was the only one in costume!”

“But was the bar free?” I ask with a smile, but I feel my teeth begin to chatter.

“Yes, so I threw back a couple of drinks and then stormed off. Absolutely everyone was laughing at me.”

“You couldn’t call for a lift home?” Outside, late-night revellers run, swearing, through the snowflakes.

“Not a chance. He would be drunk by now. Even if I could get him to come out, it’s hard enough to keep his hands off me when he’s sober, let alone dressed like this.” She pauses looking at me.

“This is stupid. This coat is big enough for the pair of us, get up.” Standing, she slips off the coat and gratefully I put it on.

“Sit. You don’t mind do you?” She asks, slipping into my lap without awaiting my response. Her legs hang out exposed over the next seat.

“Hang on.” She jumps up again and slips off her leather jacket. Under illegal bahis siteleri the two pointless string vests is a white t-shirt with strategic slashes in the cloth exposing a black lace bra? Sitting again, she drapes the jacket over her calves and pulls my coat around her.

She wriggles her bum to get comfortable and I’m acutely aware of how pleasant it is to feel her soft buttocks pressed into my groin. Her face is only inches from mine and we both realise this is a little more intimate than we expected.

With her legs sticking out, I have to hold the coat closed around us. One of my hands is around her hip and the other is trying to hold the bottom of my coat around her exposed legs. As I start to warm up, I’m struggling to keep my mind focused on something other than the attractive woman on my lap. Spurred by my previous hopes for the evening combined with her occasionally shifting position, my dick ignores my instructions and starts to grow. She shifts again, and this time I’m certain she’s noticed it. Clearing her throat she comments.

“Nice after-shave.”

“Thanks, I like the smell of your shampoo as well.”

“So … this is a little awkward.”

“Just a bit. Sorry about…” I trail off, not sure how to mention my erection.

“That?” She tenses her backside muscles which squeeze the tip of my cock. Unfortunately, it just makes it press between her cheeks more. “I suppose I should take it as a compliment. After all, it’s kind of what I was aiming for by dressing like this. If not under these circumstances.” I try to change the subject.

“What time is your bus?”

“No idea, what about you?”

“Just after midnight.” I glance at my watch and she turns my wrist to see it clearly.

“Shit your hand is cold. Here…” she puts it inside the coat against her side. “God! That’s freezing.” she shivers.

“Sorry…” I start to pull away, but she traps it between her side and her arm.

“You get cold, and then I get colder. It will warm up quicker this way. Tell me exactly what you had planned for tonight before it went down the crapper?”


“Why not? We’re well past a polite handshake now.” She wriggles again and I have to suppress a groan at the sensation.

“Fine, it’s my birthday in half an hour. I’d been expecting to be having sex by now.”

“I’m thinking you were anticipating something a little special with the condoms and lots of lube. Or is that something you usually do? Poking her up the pooper?” I can feel my blush growing.

“No, she’s been dropping hints about wanting to try it.”

“Have you ever done it before?” I shake my head, but can’t meet her eye. “And has she?”

“If you’d have asked me a fortnight ago, I’d have said definitely not,” I explain about Karl and my assumptions.

“Bummer, if you’ll pardon the pun. I should warn you it can kinda hurt a girl the first time. Particularly with what I can feel you have down there.”

“So you’ve done it?” I ask surprised.

“Yeah, although the first time was horrible. My boyfriend at the time got me sloppy drunk and just stuffed it up there. Claimed he was drunk and didn’t know the difference. Fucking liar.”

“What a dick!” I exclaim loudly.

“Not really…” her hand appears from inside the coat and she wiggles her little finger around suggesting a tiny dick.

“Lucky I suppose, but he was history by the next morning. But I eventually found a guy who knew what he was doing and I found I liked it. Not all of the time, but when I’m in the right mood, it feels great. Nasty, dirty and taboo, it can be really intense.” She’s looking a little flushed.

There are so many questions I’d like to ask, but discussing anal sex with a complete stranger is one thing. Doing it while my cock is pressed between her buttocks is another thing entirely. She looks away, not embarrassed, but almost as if she’s reminiscing. I feel the slightest squeeze of her buttocks against my cock. Is she aware she is doing that?

“So what would your evening have been like if your flatmate hadn’t set you up? And why were you so easily persuaded to come out in that get up?” She laughs, which sends a pleasurable tremor down through my groin.

“Most of this outfit is hers. I never usually walk around like this. But she knows it’s been a while for me, and I’d had a few drinks. So when she called saying all the right things, I let her talk me into it.”

“What about the good looking guys she promised?” I ask.

“I was too pissed off to really notice. If I wasn’t dressed like this, and there was a good looking guy, with the right amount to drink we might have hooked up. Perhaps, ultimately doing what you were planning tonight.”

“Including…” I clench my muscles causing my cock to poke her harder and she bursts out laughing.

“Probably not. I usually only kiss on a first date, however, I have been known to let my wild side out once in a while.” Her body feels warm against my hand and I flex my fingers. The back canlı bahis siteleri of my thumb brushes against the side of her breast. Expecting a rebuke, I freeze, but she ignores it.

We sit for several more minutes in silence watching the snow falling. The radiator is finally pumping some heat into the room, causing condensation to form on the large windows.

Thankfully the snow doesn’t seem as if it will “stick”. It would be a nightmare if the busses were cancelled and I had to walk home. Not that I’d leave this woman here dressed like this. I might not know her name, but I’m not a bad guy. Admittedly, my judgment is a little clouded right now.

Her scent is in my nose, her warm body is pressed against me and my cock is nestled against her soft buttocks. I wonder if I can persuade her to split a taxi and come back to my place?

She says “Have you ever had sex with a stranger? Just some random stranger and done it without even knowing their name?” I am shocked out of my own thoughts, and more so by the question. I burst out laughing.

“What?” She asks, puzzled.

“Sorry, I think you’re forgetting I’m a guy. If I did that I’d get a visit from the cops. Now an attractive woman like yourself would be far more likely to get a positive response, eight times out of ten.”

“Only eight?” She asks coquettishly.

“I’m allowing for gay guys and the terminally stupid.” She grins and I really want to kiss her.

“But have you thought about it?”

“Not really. In the same way, I don’t fantasize about stepping off a building and flapping my arms to fly away. Doesn’t seem like much point to me. What about you? You must have thought about it to ask the question?”

“Once or twice.” She replies noncommittally. It’s obvious she’s had the idea more often than that.

“And done anything about it?”

“No!” She replies too quickly and looks away.

“Really?” I press.

“Ok, there was this one time, but it doesn’t really count. When I was a girl, a gang of us went to the movies. Some middle-aged guy sat next to me and I noticed a few times during the movie he tapped his leg against mine. I was just about to tell him to stop when I saw he had his cock out and was playing with it. I know I should have screamed or kicked up a fuss, but I’d never seen one in the flesh before. I must have stared at it too long, and he saw me watching.”

“He reached over and took my hand. I was so scared but I couldn’t manage to pull away. He put my hand on his hard dick and I just held it. It was confusing, hard and hot, but with an unexpected sponginess. I know it sounds stupid now, but I thought a hard cock meant hard like a piece of wood and I was relieved to find it wasn’t like that. Soon he started to move my hand up and down. I chickened out then and pulled back suddenly. The movement caught the attention of others and he stuffed it away and almost ran from his seat.” She regards me with excitement, and shifts on my lap brazenly rubbing against my cock.

“Have you ever done that?” She asks.

“No!” Trying to keep a straight face, I add “I can honestly say I’ve never touched another man’s cock in the movies.”

“Dick!” She laughs and I twitch my cock again. My thumb brushes against the side of her breast again and she turns looking at me more seriously.

“Are you planning on just leaving your hand there all night?”

“Sorry.” I start to pull it away.

“That’s not what I meant. I thought that talking about sex with a stranger; you might have got the message?”

I capture her breast. It’s not large, just a handful. Her bra doesn’t hide her already hard nipple as my thumb passes over it.

“Isn’t that better?” She purrs and nuzzles her head against mine. I’ll not disagree, as I fondle her breast. She tilts her head back, looking for a kiss. She clenches her backside occasionally and I respond by pushing my cock against her harder. Not sure what’s going on or how far it will go.

I remove my hand and she makes a sound of disappointment, but I’m not going away. I slip my fingers under her clothes and trace the soft skin of her stomach. I return to caress her boob, but her bra is too tight to let me touch her naked breast.

“Hang on a second.” She leans forward and unhooks her bra. She arches her back and pushes her breast into my hand and shudders with pleasure. The way her arse is moving across my groin, it seems the pleasure is mutual.

We kiss with even more intensity until she pulls back a little breathless.

“Do you think we could turn off the lights?”

“Why?” I ask. She seemed perfectly happy to make out in public so far.

“I think a little more privacy would be nice. What would you say if I went over and knelt on that chair, pulled up this slutty little skirt and then pulled my soaking panties to one side and asked you to just put it in me?” The sudden surge of my cock answers for me.

She walks over to the light switch and plunges the room into shadows. The sodium streetlights reflecting off the falling snow illuminate her as she moves languidly towards the hard plastic chairs. Kneeling, she tugs the skirt up revealing her red underwear I’d glimpsed earlier. She hooks her finger under her gusset and pulls it aside, exposing herself to me.

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