Claimed: A Forced Submission Romance by Jackson J

Author:Jackson, J. [Jackson, J.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: erotica
Publisher: Bastian LeFrange
Published: 2016-06-28T04:00:00+00:00

Part 3

Giving her best come-on to the fellow passenger ogling her from across the aisle of the bus, Sandy wondered what she could get from him. She certainly knew what she could give him, and the thought of what that might entail sparked a warmth deep inside her. Fluttering her eyelids, and licking her lips, her tits pressed out to fill her tee, she could feel her pussy beginning to moisten at the prospect of what might ensue. It didn’t take long before the fellow stood up and came over to her. “This seat taken?” he asked, and when she made no response but to raise an eyebrow and look at the empty place next to her, as if surprised, he added, “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” she whispered, flashing him a charming smile. As soon as he was seated, Sandy surprised herself by grasping his arm and snuggling into his shoulder. “I’m Sandy,” she whispered, “Lonely Sandy.”

“Hi,” he replied succinctly, blatant in his refusal to identify himself, but, snaking an arm, nevertheless, around her shoulder to palm her boob.

“Mmmmm,” Sandy cooed contentedly, as he gave her tit a squeeze.

Nuzzling into his chest, Sandy allowed one hand to explore the access his shirt provided, while she dropped the other hand to his crotch to boldly fondle the growing package she found there. “It’s odd,” she thought, luxuriating in the liquid feelings that bubbled within her. “It’s almost like a high,” – not that she had ever been high on anything except alcohol – “Almost like I’m becoming addicted to exceptional naughtiness.” She pondered this, as she managed to unbutton the shirt of her anonymous admirer, and find his nipples with her fingers and tongue. There was something sinfully seductive in what she was doing; the effects of her magic were becoming obvious in the rising stiffness beneath the zipper she struggled to open. Her nameless partner’s breath was becoming increasingly ragged, when she looked up and said, very matter-of-factly, “I need a nice place to stay tonight in Blackpool.” He nodded slightly as if to say, “And...?” so, without skipping a beat Sandy asked, “Is there a toilet on this bus – er – coach?”

Without a word, her mysterious lover pushed her away, pulled his clothes together, then pulled her from the seat to lead her to the back of the coach. A few of the other passengers eyed them as they passed, but nobody seemed to actually watch as they both entered the closet-sized lavatory. As soon as the door closed Sandy pushed her companion into a half-sit against the sink and, crouched between his legs, squishing in beside the commode, fished his erection out into the open with more grace, she thought, than she had a right to. Rounding her lips, she pushed the straining pole deep into the back of her throat before pausing to accommodate his impressive girth. Then she began a slow withdrawal, applying suction to the tool, while caressing the underside with her tongue and squeezing its length with her cheeks.

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