The Bus to Pleasure Town

By this time Stephens left hand was unconsciously, yet securely, wrapped around what I could only imagine was an emerging erection. I looked down and watched his hand stroking slowly up and down the bulging evidence that was straining against his pants. Seriously speaking, he was so caught up in the conversation and his own frenzy that he probably didn't even realize he was doing it.

Suddenly, jolted back to reality, I saw his head turn all the way to his left, looking out the window.

"Jesus, dammit, I missed my stop

Whether it was purposeful error or the fact that he was otherwise engaged, clearly he wasn't going to be able to get home unless he rode the bus to the end of the line and stayed for the return trip that would eventually take him back. My stop was fast approaching and I had to make a quick decision.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention either. Listen, my stop is coming up. If you get off with me, the walk to my house is about five blocks, do you think you can make it?"

"I'd love to get off with you."

His tongue licking his lips told me he wasn't thinking about getting off the bus.

"Be serious Stephen."

"Thanks Layla, I'll just stay on the bus and catch the next one back. I should be home by the 4th of July."

It was a halfhearted attempt at humor in a situation that had nothing funny about it. My addiction aside, I couldn't let him take the bus home.

"That's silly. Look, I can carry your bags if you can walk the distance. I'll shovel the end of the driveway and take you home in my car. You have to decide; my stop is next so what's it going to be?"

"I'd really appreciate a lift. Don't worry about my bags, I'm fine."

I reached up and pulled the cord to signal the bus driver that we wanted to get off the bus at the next corner. I grabbed my bags which were very light and two of Stephens bags. I stood up and waited for him to get to his feet. The bent over little old man who I watched getting on the bus was now a spry man clutching his shopping bags in one hand and walking gingerly to the exit door. The curative powers of lust, gotta love it!

The walk to my house was on flat graded pavement so he didn't seem to be having any problems. As we made the turn down my road he slowed down, no doubt the walk was taking a bit more out of him than he wanted to admit. I reached over and took his bags. He didn't say anything but I was sure it made the walk a little easier. We finally reached my driveway and trudged through the snow that was piled in it, made it to the kitchen door and finally we were inside.

"Listen Stephen, I'm going to go out and clear the driveway, you sit tight and warm up, give your legs a chance to recover and I'll have you home in a jiffy. Feel free to make a pot of coffee, everything you need is here in this cabinet, the coffee pot is right there on the counter. I'll be back as quick as I can."

I left him sitting in the kitchen unbuttoning his jacket and taking off his wet boots. I guess it took me about twenty or thirty minutes to clear the plowed in foot of the driveway and although it wasn't perfect, I knew I could get out without any problem.

When I went back to the kitchen I didn't see him sitting there when I opened the door. I thought either he was in the bathroom or had gone into the living room to be more comfortable. I found him, sound asleep sitting in the chair with his feet up on the ottoman. I didn't know whether I should wake him up or just let him sleep. I was cold and my feet were wet so I left him there and went to take off my boots and make a cup of tea.

He had made himself coffee, that made me feel better. I was trying to be quiet so as not to wake him up. At this point it really didn't matter when I took him home. I went into my bedroom and got out of my wet things and into something dry. I heard him stirring and went to see how he was doing.

"Jesus Christ, I can't believe I fell asleep. I had to get my legs up, they were aching like a son-of-a -bitch."

"I'm glad you came in here and put them up, you must have been freezing cold?"

"I don't mind confessing I was effing cold. I haven't walked this far since I can't remember when. My legs aren't that strong, but I get around. Goddamn stroke beat the crap out of me."

"Stephen, I can take you home anytime. I'll put your things in the fridge and how about I make us some hot soup and sandwiches, I'm starving and you must be also. I'll get a fire going, you stay put and I'll take care of everything."

"I feel like an ass; I couldn't get up on these legs now if my life depended on it. I'm really sorry about this Layla I'm sure you had better things to do today than take care of me."

"Don't be silly, I bet your socks are wet, let me see?"

I walked over and felt his feet, they were ice cold. I didn't ask, I just took off his socks and covered his feet with a nice warm throw blanket. He didn't say a word, I could feel his misery and I was really feeling just as bad for him. I started a fire and could actually see him perking up when I had it blazing and hot.

"Man, that feels good. I think I could make it to the car if you want to get rid of me?"

"Don't even think about it. You're a pretty hefty man, if you fell I don't think I could get you back on your feet. Stay put, here's the remote, turn on the TV, relax, and I'll fix us something to eat."

As I walked out of the living room I heard the weatherman talking, he had put the local news on. If anyone told me, even suggested, that I would have a complete stranger, very nearly incapacitated, sitting in my living room it would have been unimaginable. At this point the only thing I could hope for was that resting and having something to warm him up would get him back on his feet. I took some beef barley soup out of the freezer, put it on a slow flame and went about making some grilled cheese sandwiches. When everything was ready I put it on a tray and took it inside.

When I went to close the drapes a little I realized it was sleeting. You've got to kidding, how long was he going to be here? It was already covering the ground. I looked at the driveway and all I could see was an almost impossible situation quickly becoming absolutely awkward.

I set a tray on his lap, gave him a steaming bowl of soup, some of the grilled cheese, and a cup of hot coffee. I sat down on the chair next to him and had the same, sans coffee, I prefer tea. I watched him gobble down the soup, wondering when the last time was he had a healthy meal. Stephen was clearly carrying some harmful excess poundage. I don't say that in regards to his physical appearance being unpleasant, I kind of liked the chubby man, more to hold I always thought. I was referring to the strain on his already weakened legs. I'm sure he was well aware of that fact himself. It certainly wasn't up to me, or for that matter anyone, to pass judgement or give advice.

"I don't know how to thank you Layla. Pretty sad way to start a new friendship."

"It's truly my pleasure. Eat your soup while it's hot. What's the weather like, I heard the news on but couldn't make out what the weather man was saying?"

"Well, it's going to be a bitch tonight, it's already pouring freezing rain and they expect it to go on all night into the early morning. Listen, I can call car service and have them pick me up, I'd feel awful if you go and have an accident driving me home."

How could I send him out in this? My mouth was in gear before I even realized what I was saying, suggesting.

"How about you just stay here tonight, I have a lovely guest room and I can take you home in the morning? Actually, I won't take no for an answer, you're staying, that's it. I never even asked if you had to call someone to let them know you were alright; the phone is right here."

"I don't have to call anyone and as much as I would like to say no thanks, it makes sense. I bet when you rolled outta bed this morning you never thought you'd be taking care of an old broken down asshole."

"Stop it!"

"Ohhh, I like a pushy woman" He finally smiled.

"I'll bet you do?"

"Ohhh, I sure as hell do."

"I think we should agree that for the present, it makes complete sense to go with my suggestion that you stay the night. You said yourself your legs are pretty well done for the day. I don't doubt it. You certainly had no intentions of having to walk through snow and ice, so please, with the weather forecast such as it is, it does seem the best course we can take.

"Like I said, I love a controlling, in your face woman. Did you say "course" as in "intercourse?"

I smiled, I had to give him kudos for trying.

Obviously he had resigned himself to the fact that he staying. What he was thinking about doing while he was here was another story.

"No, I don't believe I was suggesting anything like that, and neither should you funny man. What kind of woman do you think I am? I'm quite sure that you've fantasized about a number of women. I may be pushy, but, rest assured, I'm not easy."

"You're far from easy, I'm doing my best to get your mind back to our conversation on the bus. I believe we were talking about tickling, as in a little slap and tickle, if you catch my drift?"

"Ummm...was that the plan all along old man?" I could see I struck a nerve, he began nervously fidgeting, I was enjoying this.

"Jesus Christ, NO! I swear it never crossed my mind. But, hell, come to think of it, why waste a good cold night? Why don't you come over here and let me cop a quick feel of those bodacious titties, have a little pity on this broken down old man?"

"Ahhhh, that was the plan, you're beginning to sweat old man?" I smiled and waited. Just how far would he go, I was suddenly very curious.

"Hell yes I'm sweating, just thinking of getting my hands on you. Come on, come over here and sit on my lap, I take a few good feels, catch a thrill that will last the rest of my life, no harm no foul, a little innocent fun?"

He was suddenly feeling much better, and the thought of having a chance at a little tickling certainly perked him up. I had to hand it to him, he certainly was tempting me.

"You know you want to; you can't deny an old man a little innocent fun? Just imagine, my gnarly old mitts squeezing those luscious titties, feeling them up good? Aww, come on, I can make you feel really good, really good. Hell, I can see your sugar sweet nipples getting good and stiff from here. I'd be willing to bet that honey maker between those quivering thighs is already putting out some sweetness?"

"You're pretty sure of yourself?"

"I may be rusty, but it all comes back, really quick. Come over here and let me show you just how quick? You put that curvy ass right here on my lap and we'll have a little fun. I'm a certified, bonified, expert tittie man, I can do things that you only dreamed about."

Tendency to over inflate one's expertise has always amazed me. Here before me was a confident, self-proclaimed breast aficionado. Since I openly admit I have a breast fetish, my own, how could I pass up an opportunity to experience brilliance? I was having fun so I decided to keep it going.

"You're pretty sure of yourself. Didn't I hear you say it's been awhile for you? Makes me think you forgot everything you think you still know?

"Holy shit, you're actually considering it? I can assure you that like riding a bike, playing with a bodacious, delectable pair of tits is something a man never forgets. I may be old, I may be rusty, as I said, but you have nothing to lose giving me a shot. If you don't enjoy it, we'll call it quits?"

"Alright old man, just a feel, that's all." He was right, I had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

"Fuck me, let me get myself situated here. I want you to be real comfortable."

He shifted in the chair, his panting, and the licking of his lips told me he was hoping for more than a feel.

I walked over to him and bent down to take his tray, he reached out and attempted to grab a handful. I wasn't surprised.

"Wait!"

"Yes ma'am, you're the boss." He wasn't about to force his hand, so to speak.

Those hungry eyes followed me as I took the tray away. I decided to make him wait. I walked into the kitchen and took a few minutes to clean up.

"Hey, bring me those titties or I may just pass out here. You better give them to me quick, I'm fading fast, dying here!"

Insistent, wasn't he?

I went back into the living room and he sitting up straight in the chair, his legs outstretched on the ottoman. I closed the drapes and lowered the lights. I walked to his chair and spread my legs over his lap, straddling him.

"Just a feel that's all."

We were going to play the game my way, because I wanted it that way.

He didn't waste a second. His hands reached out and he filled them with my breasts, squeezing, rubbing, and enjoying the hell out of himself.

"I'm a tittie man, always have been. You got a real nice pair, round and big, just how I like em."

The man's hands felt awful good. Fingers spread wide and kneading.I couldn't hide the pleasure and let a little moan slip out. It just encouraged him to do his best. I deserved nothing less.

After a few minutes I thought he'd had enough. I took his hands and put them down.

"Just a feel, that's what you wanted."

"Yeah, but now that I felt em, I wanna look at em, show me your titties, let me have a little peek, just a little tease?"

I was beginning to enjoy this.

"You just want to look right?"

"Oh yeah, I just need a fast look, you know you want me to, you're dying for me see your titties, but let me do it my way?"

Who would argue with an expert?

"All you're going to do is look, then it's a done deal."

We both knew that wasn't going to happen.

He reached into the top of my shirt, quickly delving deeply into the cup of my bra. He was licking his lips, sucking obscenely while he grabbed my breast and pulled up, leaving my lusciousness laying on top of my chest. I saw why he wanted to do it all by himself. Sitting up high, held there by the neckline of my shirt and under underwire bra, it looked like he had my breast on a plate. Yes, it was wicked and looked downright nasty, I loved it.

"Christ, what a sweet handful, lemme get the other one out here, don't want them to be lonely for each other. I have to get them just right so I can get a really good, up close and personal look."

In seconds my breasts were sitting up proud and in full view. I saw drops of drool falling down his chin. His hands bounced and lifted, rolled and roamed, he didn't miss an inch.

"Sweet, gorgeous fucking tits! You sure do have one sexy good-looking set. Goddammit, look at these suck me hard nipples, just begging me to get them in my mouth. I sure could give them a good, righteous licking, sucking them nice and slow, and get them swelled up plump and stiff."

I didn't say no.

His fingers grasped each of my now taut nipples, twisted, pulled and pinched. He was licking his lips, his tongue whipping back and forth. His eyes were pleading, begging to get my rock hard nipples where he wanted them, in his slobbering nasty mouth.

"You said feel, then you said see, now you want more?"

Of course he did, so did I.

"You can't stop me now? I haven't sucked on a pair like this in maybe my whole life. You just sit here and if I don't do them justice, you can stop me any time. I guarantee, no, I promise you won't wanna stop me, not by a long shot."

"Old man, you better do it right."

When he understood he was about to get his wish, I felt a growing excitement between my legs, so did he.

"Sit tight little girl, your dirty old man is gonna take you for the ride of your young life."

He wrapped his old fingers tightly around my tits and squeezed, popping my nipples up firm and stiff. His tongue slithered out of his driveling mouth, zealously clamped down on his hard bonbon and began a solid steady sucking. He was good, no, he was better than just good. I felt the power of his mouth more than just tickling me, he was producing a storm between my thighs.

I stared, mesmerized by the movements of his fleshly lips pulling and grasping, drawing my aching nipples in and out of his hot wet mouth, his slobber dripping off the tender tips, falling down onto my shirt. I could sit here like this and never get tired of his mouth. He was making good on his promise, I wasn't about to stop him, and he knew it.

My moans, gasps, telling him that he was driving me wild gave him the approval he needed to keep going. Bending his head forward he wrapped my milky tits around his face, licking and sucking my skin, while his fingers continued to pull and pinch the throbbing nipples he had sucked to cherry red. The tingling and stinging felt like penetrating electrical shocks bouncing off the tip of his tongue.

"I'm gonna suck these beauties till you beg me to stop, and you won't beg me to stop, you love it, just as much as I do. Rub your stiff hard cherries across my lips, feed them to me, let me make them ache, torment me with them and then pull them away, tease me, make me dive you wild?"

So, he wanted to play?

I leaned back, just beyond his reach. I rolled my stiff crimson red nipples between my fingers.

"You want this, you want to suck it, lick it, roll your tongue over it?"

"Ohhh baby, you're just as much into this as I am. We're good for each other. I wanna suck it, bite it, lick it and anything else I can think of, you're damn right I want it, and you wanna give it to me."

I pulled his head down, and pushed my pulsing throbbing nipple into his mouth. His lips were clenched tight, pulling and lapping, that tongue was slapping and licking. The slurping, sucking sound of his lips were almost enough to make me cum, almost. I pushed his head back, pulling his mouth off his hard cherry candy and rubbed it across his fleshy, thick, drooling lips. When he tried to take it back in his mouth to suck it, I pulled back.

"Open that dirty filthy mouth old man, open it wide, you gonna suck me right."

His eyes widened, his mouth opened, he watched my hands pushing my puffed, plump nipples closer and closer together until they touched.

"Now, suck!"

The feeling was mind blowing. His mouth was full and he was drawing hard. His moaning only added to the dirty feeling that I was loving. I had a nasty old man, sucking my tits, my nipples filling his mouth and it was beyond erotic, it was downright sinful and obscene.

I reached for his hands and made him hold what he was lavishing, I felt his body jerk under me. Not knowing what I was about to do only shocked him that much more when he understood my intentions.

"Now you need some sugar old man, don't you?"

I leaned back, reached between my legs, slipping my finger into my honey pot and pulled it up, glistening with sweet syrup. I rubbed it over my left nipple until it shimmered in the thick coating of sticky goodness.

"Here old man, see what I've got for you."

Stephen's moans and whimpers as he suckled his sugar coated treat were worth the five block trek through snow and ice. Like a greedy baby, he licked and slurped his nipple clean.

"You love my sugar old man?"

"Yesses, give me more, I want all of it."

"Take my shirt off!" I didn't have to ask twice. He pulled it up and over my head and threw it on the floor.

"Now my bra, do it!"

His raspy breathing, the groaning and panting was music to my ears. My dirty old man enjoyed being commanded, and was relishing the quick change in my demeanor.

"I knew it, you like to be in charge, be the boss. Well baby, you can order me around for the rest of my life. You tell me what you want and I'm on it. No, I'm all over it, and I'm gonna give you just what you want."

He had me naked to the waist in a flash, his hands roaming over my back as he licked and kissed the valley between my breasts. Rubbing his face up and down, stopping to take a few heated bites to my achingly sore, painfully raw, thoroughly, as promised, expertly, gobbled nipples.