Following on from my last fuck filled night in Vegas – our jaunt out of Vegas was just as much fun on the Greyhound.
We were seedy, hung over like hell and hadn’t eaten anything by the time we loaded the bus at about 8 am. We crawled to the back of the bus and he wedged himself in the corner and I literally threw myself over him and we went back to sleep.
We woke up somewhere on the outskirts of Nevada and had a brief chat. Yes, his head hurt. Yes my head hurt. No I had no water. Oh he did in his backpack. Fantastic. No headache tablets. What’s the next stop again? I need more sleep. So we snuggled back into it and passed out.
Next we woke up and I think we were in Arizona. My head was pounding like a bitch and somehow my hand had ended up in his crotch with my face not too far behind on his stomach. Well hello there Mr Throbber. He might have been asleep but his other parts weren’t! I decided to behave myself until at least the bus was a bit less “full of people”. I didn’t want to be kicked off in the middle of Arizona with no idea where I was and a killer hang over.
And I know “sexual” things weren’t allowed on Greyhounds, the man driving told us so before starting the bus up and leave. Maybe I had a sign on my forehead that he noticed as I climbed on to the bus??
I think I went back to sleep. With my hand cupping his hard on. Some girls like teddy bears, what can I say? I like a full raging boner to snuggle.
As we pulled into Phoenix we both woke up and started to feel a bit more human. My hand was still firmly cupping his bits as I pulled away to stretch, yawn, mention that I’m bloody ravenous and cuddle back into him and resume my cupping. He asked what I wanted to eat. I told him what I wanted to eat wasn’t edible with all these people on the bus and that we had to wait a while for everyone to get off before I could start. He laughed. I guess he thought I meant food?
When the last of the travellers disembarked from the bus, I unzipped his fly, told him to keep a look out for anyone coming back on the bus and started sucking his cock with joy. I might have hummed happily and he found this amusing as well, I stopped to tell him to stop sniggering and make sure we aren’t going to get thrown off the coach. His response was to wrap his hand in my hair and ram his penis down my throat. Well, that worked. I might have lost all sense of time and people after that. I came when he did, as I was gagging and choking on his cock. Not sure anything is hotter than that right there people. I totally get off when a guy looses control and face fucks me with rough abandon. Yum.
The best 30 minute bus break stop ever. Quite. I asked if there was such a thing as the quarter-mile high club because the greyhound wasn’t really close to the ground now was it? He patted me on the head and said for me there sure was. I beamed at him and ran off to get myself some food. We chatted for the next 4-5 hours it took to get to Tuscon. He asked me to marry him in that time so that he could come live in Australia. I laughed at him and said sure, why not.
We parted ways in Tucson – however he will forever be my first GreyEyed American that I rampantly rampaged. We exchanged emails which I promptly lost. Ops.
Considering I had come out of a 3 year relationship with a woman just before this trip, I thought I would be sight-seeing and behaving myself.
Oh, how I was glad that I wasn’t!
I by 3am that morning when I couldn’t sleep on the bus and was rudely interrupted in my reading by someone smacking the back of my chair however, I wished he’d have stayed on until I got to El Paso.
I turned around in my seat to ask what this guy wanted. He wanted to know if I was sleeping and if it was ok for him to sit next to me. Are you for fucking real?
I held up my book at him and said it’s pretty hard to read with my eyes closed don’t you think? He took that as an invitation to sit next to me. I might have huffed. He wanted to know where I was from. ‘Straya, I say. He asks me if there’s really kangaroo’s in the city. I roll my eyes at him. He then tells me that he’s just gotten out of jail.
Oh wow. Well. This is a first, getting picked up in the middle of a greyhound at 3 am by a convict. How?! Why?!! WTF?!!! Why couldn’t he have been as hot as that guy from prison break?
Oh, I say. That must have been hard. Yes it was he says, I start wondering if he was in for murder at this point. Did he kill someone? Rape someone? Knife them? What if he wants to kill me? All those reasons my mother gave me to not go to America were swimming in my head now. If he’s just gotten out of jail then he wouldn’t have really had that much contact with a woman!! OH. MY. GAWWWWWWWWWD.
It’s ok, I didn’t start hyperventilating. My inner voice did though.
The next question he asked was the end of our conversation.
Him: “So I just wanted to know, are your tits real or are they fake? Can I touch them?”
Me: “Did you just ask me that question dude? – let me break this down for you. No, they aren’t fake. No, you can’t touch them and no I don’t think I want to talk to you any more because I’m tired and want to sleep. Can you please go back to your own seat now?” … and was thinking that I should have sat closer to the driver. And silently thanked him for being such a rude ass that my inner bitch totally took over. You see, I would have been totally polite and never asked him to move back to his seat if he hadn’t of pissed me off.
Thankfully he apologised if he offended me and moved back to his seat. I had never had such incentive to get to sleep before. And when I couldn’t sleep, I totally pretended like I was.