She turned to face me, leaning slightly forward.
First, she used her hand, gently grasping my already rapidly engorged, hot, and stiff cock, stroking it up and down a couple of times.
Her fingers were cool, wrapping around the burning shaft, the contrast of hot and cold sending a shiver through my scalp.
Her strokes were slow but deliberate, each one running from the base to the edge of the glans, her thumb occasionally brushing against the sensitive corona. Her touch was just right—stimulating but not painful.
Then, she brushed her long hair back, tucking it behind her ear, revealing her flushed earlobe and the graceful curve of her neck.
Mother lowered her head, parting her rosy lips, and first extended the tip of her tongue to lightly, tentatively lick my glossy, purplish-red glans.
The sensation—slick, warm, and wet—sent a shiver of pleasure straight to the base of my spine, nearly drawing a moan from my lips.
She licked with meticulous care, her tongue tip tingling like an electric current. She circled the full, rounded head, attending to every inch of sensitive skin, especially the frenulum, which she skillfully teased and pressed with repeated flicks of her tongue.
Then she moved to lick the transparent fluid seeping from the slit, even gently sucking, drawing the slightly salty, musky liquid into her mouth.
After that, she opened her mouth and slowly took the glans inside.
Without using her hands for support, she relied solely on the coordination of her lips and tongue to gradually take me deeper.
The hot, tight confines of her mouth enveloped the tip completely. Her tongue writhed skillfully beneath, sometimes pressing the entire flat surface against the underside of the shaft, pushing upward, and at other times curling into a tube, tightly wrapping around the sensitive coronal ridge and sliding back and forth. The slick, warm, enveloping sensation, combined with the suction, felt as though it could draw the very soul out of me.
Her lips tightly encircled the base of the shaft, forming a perfect seal. With each forward and backward movement of her head, intense friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through me.
Leaning against the cool plastic seatback, I tilted my head up and let out a long, deep sigh.
It felt incredibly good.
One of my hands instinctively reached out and rested on Mother's upturned buttocks.
Through her beige overcoat and the shorts beneath, I could feel the plump, rounded curves.
I kneaded them, savoring their astonishing elasticity and fullness. My fingers sank into the soft flesh, only to bounce back, the sensation so satisfying I couldn't bring myself to stop.
After a while of kneading, the layers of fabric began to feel frustrating, dampening the experience.
I glanced around—the bus was still empty, filled only with the rumble of the engine.
The driver showed no signs of turning around.
My hand slipped quietly beneath the waistband of Mother's shorts at the back.
My fingertips first brushed against the smooth, cool nylon of her pantyhose encasing her buttocks. Beneath the silky texture lay warm, full flesh.
I traced my fingers downward along the cleft of her buttocks, pressing through the pantyhose and the thin underwear beneath, finding the soft, slightly indented spot.
The location of Mother's honeyed entrance.
I pressed down firmly through the two layers of fabric. I could clearly feel the softness and warmth of that indentation, even picturing the shape of the fleshy lips beneath.
"Mmm…" Mother immediately let out a muffled groan, her mouth pausing for a moment around my cock.
But she didn't lift her head. Instead, as if to cover up that sound, she began working more vigorously, increasing the rhythm of her movements and taking my shaft even deeper.
It seemed she wanted to divert attention with more intense oral stimulation. Suppressed whimpers escaped from deep in her throat, the suction of her mouth suddenly intensifying, her tongue swirling more wildly. She even lightly grazed the edges of the sensitive coronal ridge with her teeth, sending waves of tingling, electric pleasure through me.
My fingers began to press and rub against that damp, warm area through the pantyhose and underwear.
Using the pads of my fingers, I firmly kneaded the center of that indentation, feeling the resilience of the soft flesh beneath the fabric and its gradually rising temperature.
Through the two layers of cloth, I attempted to explore the seam between those fleshy lips, mimicking the motion of penetration, thrusting rhythmically against that mysterious, central point.
Soon, my fingertips detected a dampness—Mother's arousal had soaked through her panties, even dampening her tights slightly.
The warm, moist sensation transmitted through the fabric to my fingertips, and I could even feel the sticky texture as the cloth became saturated.
Through the fabric, it felt like something was missing.
I withdrew my hand, glanced at the driver—still no movement.
Then, I found the waistband of Mother's tights. This time, I slipped my fingers directly into the gap between the edge of the tights and her skin.
Now, my fingertips made direct contact with her smooth, slightly cool thigh and the thin, damp cotton panties already moist with her arousal.
Her skin was delicate and warm, a stark contrast to the coolness of the tights.
My fingers found the edge of her panties and slipped inside.
This time, there was no barrier.
My index finger pressed directly against Mother's already slick, swollen, and slightly puffy labia.
So wet, so warm. Instantly, my fingertip was enveloped in the slippery, warm fluid. The two fleshy lips were like ripe petals—full and soft, radiating an astonishing heat.
Mother let out a more pronounced moan from her throat, her mouth unconsciously tightening around me as her tongue moved faster and more erratically.
It seemed the direct touch had pushed her toward losing control. The rhythm of her mouth grew hurried and greedy, the frequency of deep throats increasing. The head of my penis repeatedly pressed against the soft flesh deep in her throat, bringing an intense sense of envelopment and a suffocating pleasure.
My fingertip slid between her wet, soft labia, clearly feeling the firm little bud trembling like a ripe bean beneath my touch.
And below, the opening that continuously contracted, oozing slippery fluid. I gently rubbed the little bud with my fingertip, feeling it rapidly engorge and grow even harder beneath my touch.
Using my index and middle fingers, I parted her labia, my fingertips tracing the delicate folds and the astonishing heat, along with the constant flow of slick arousal.
The two fleshy lips were spread apart, revealing the even more slippery, pink interior and the small, quivering opening that seemed to crave being filled.
Then, my index finger aimed at that pulsating, juice-seeping opening and slowly, firmly, pressed inside.
"Mmm... hnngh..."
Mother's body shuddered violently, a series of muffled, choked whimpers escaping her throat.
Her mouth tightened around me, nearly grazing me with her teeth.
My finger was instantly enveloped and tightly gripped by the slick, tight flesh inside her.
The soft walls of her passage felt like countless little mouths, eagerly sucking on my finger—wet, hot, and tight, as if alive and coiling around me.
So hot, so tight—tighter than her mouth.
I began to move slowly, curling and exploring inside her warm passage, my knuckles bending, my fingertips grazing the uneven, sensitive folds of her inner walls, mimicking the motions of intercourse with shallow thrusts.
With each withdrawal, more slippery fluid was drawn out; with each insertion, the inner walls gripped even tighter.
Squelch... squelch...
Faint, wet sounds emerged from where my fingers met her honeyed entrance, audible only up close, mingling with the increasingly rapid, breathy moans escaping her nostrils.
The lewd, wet sounds echoed unnervingly clear in the silent bus cabin, grating on my nerves.
She could feel the intrusion of my fingers, and I could feel the spasms inside her and the endless flow of her arousal.
Her body swayed slightly with the thrusting of my fingers, her hips unconsciously meeting my movements, while the muffled sounds in her throat took on a sobbing tone.
This mutual "comfort," in such a public place, felt both dangerous and thrilling, amplifying the pleasure countless times over.
I quickened the pace of my fingers, moving from shallow to deep, beginning to use my knuckles to press against a particular spot deeper inside her. Meanwhile, the pleasure from her mouth servicing me below was building faster and faster.
My lower back ached with tension, and I felt on the verge of release.
She seemed to sense my impending climax, her sucking and the twining of her tongue reaching a peak. A deep, muffled swallowing sound came from her throat, as if she wanted to devour me whole.
Just as I felt I was about to reach the peak, my fingers digging in harder and Mom sucking faster and swallowing repeatedly—
The bus abruptly slowed and came to a gradual stop.
We had reached a stop.
Both Mom and I froze simultaneously.
The bus doors hissed open.
A gust of cold air rushed in.
Someone was about to board!
Almost the instant she heard the door open, Mom immediately released her mouth with a soft "pop," letting my slick, wet cock slip out.
I swiftly pulled my fingers from her slick, tight entrance, bringing out a glistening strand of fluid.
Frantically, I grabbed the edge of my pants and yanked them up! My stiff member was hastily wrapped and squeezed by the fabric—it hurt a little, but there was no time to care.
The zipper rasped shut, and the belt buckle clicked into place.
Mom instantly sat up straight, hurriedly pulling her hand out from under her clothes, quickly smoothing her disheveled hair back, and then swiftly pulling a tissue from her small bag. She lowered her head, pretending to wipe her mouth.
Her movements were quick, but the tips of her ears were flushed a deep red, and her chest heaved noticeably.
Footsteps sounded from the front door—someone was inserting coins, a middle-aged woman's voice.
Then the footsteps moved toward the back of the bus.
My heart pounded like a drum, thumping hard against my ribs.
I tried to act normal, turning to look out the window, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman who had boarded take a seat in the middle of the bus, not continuing further back.
I secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Mom also relaxed, leaning back in her seat, closing her eyes for a moment before continuing to slowly wipe the corners of her mouth with the tissue. After finishing, she crumpled the tissue into a ball and clenched it tightly in her hand.
The bus started moving again.
Over the next few stops, a few more people boarded, and the cabin was no longer empty.
Neither Mom nor I spoke or looked at each other again.
She kept her gaze fixed out the window; I could only see her profile and the flushed tips of her ears.
Between us hung a thick, post-event awkwardness, and an even thicker, unsatisfied restlessness.
That fire was still trapped inside, painfully swollen and unrelieved.
--------------------------------------
Hello guys, do support me in patreon: patreon.com/FloppyQueen
This story is completed in my patreon with 67 chapters.
Your support means a lot to me. Thank you.