Reading Skill

Sitting in the long bus ride to Bras Basah, it was one of those days I felt crafty in the arty sense and decided to head there to get some parts to do some DIYing. As the bus got more crowded, a young girl boarded and walked towards the empty seat beside me, which for some reason no one took. With her earphones on, she fired up the browser on her phone and loaded a website, caught from the corner of my eye. It was a familiar, simple white theme, with the much recognisable banner/ picture on the right side bar. Then, my senses came knocking and alerted me that she was on MY site.

Grinning silly to myself, ice breaking ideas flooded my mind and I was so desperate to make myself known. What would be the ideal way? To type something in the Note app of my iPad? Or to simply load the same webpage? Assuming she could see my screen as well, I loaded the WordPress app and fired up the ‘View Site’ tab on the side. Her fingers scrolled down the page a little to hide the banners, but it was imminent that she realised I was on the same page. Loading up a blank document on the app, I typed in the words ‘You are sitting right beside that author, Jhae.’ and published it.

Tapping on the refresh button, that post with the exact same words appeared as the latest entry and her earphones were pulled off.

Me: ‘So you realised you are sitting beside Jhae.’

Girl: ‘Yeah! It’s an honour to meet you.’

It must be weird to see two strangers shaking hands all of a sudden, but the thoughts of other passengers were out of my focus. She introduced herself as Sharon, and we spoke for some time, before finding out that she was heading to the same place, to get some materials for her school project. It was a day dedicated to school work, and she had a whole day to herself.

We alighted opposite Bras Basah Complex and went to Art Friends followed by Popular, picking up what we needed and headed towards the open area at the exit of Popular. Under the block, all was quiet and the breezy weather helped keep her there with me. As more questions surfaced about the inspiration for my stories, I managed to bring the topic to her personal sex life, and asked similarly embarrassing questions too.

Soon, she was stopped in her work as a few tools were missing, and I recommended her the upper floors of the HDB flat at that area, citing a spectacular view as an excuse. After we dropped our bags in a corner out of sight, we stood by the opening in the wall facing National Library and paused there without saying a word for a long time.

Me: ‘This is one of the times when I will get inspiration to write. The cool wind, beautiful girl beside, and a man’s creative hormones.’

Sharon: ‘Really? What are you thinking of now?’

Me: ‘Hmm.. standing behind you hugging, reaching up your dress with both hands, and sliding towards your wet panties.’

Sharon: ‘But how would you know it’s wet? I might not be turned on.’

I pushed myself away from the ledge and went behind her, placing my hands on the back of her thighs and slowly sliding her dress up against her legs. Once my hands felt the seams of her panties, I brought them around her waist and went between her legs, coming in contact with the warmer patch on her panties.

Me: ‘See? That’s how I know it’s wet.’

Sharon: ‘How can you tell?’

Me: ‘Well, the wetter part will usually be warmer, or cooler depending if it was exposed to wind. For now, I can tell its wet cause your body is as warm.’

Pressing my middle finger on the tip of the cameltoe, I wriggled my way between the folds and rubbed her clit gently, sending her head backwards on my shoulders. The black dress she wore had a pink floral strip slightly above her chest and one row near the edge of the hemlines above her thighs. There was nothing glamorous about it, but everything suddenly felt sexy as I touched her in that way.

One of my hand reached up to her bra, and clipped the hook easily, returning to the supple humps and squeezing them in my palm. My other hand had went into her panties, and dug its way into the slit, in direct contact of the soft fleshy clit. Everything was spinning out of control the faster my fingers went. From where we stood, there was no way passer-by could spot us, so, it was all discretion and fun going on.

Once we felt her panties was soaking wet, she removed my hands and pulled her panties off, turning towards the opening and lifted her dress up with one hand. How I wished I could take a picture of her fair white butt that revealed a little of her pussy between the cracks. I hastily lowered my pants and she changed her hand to go between her legs, and guided me home.

A single shove was all I used to send her moaning, and she behaved from the moment I moved my body against hers. The quickie was a scary one as we knew anyone looking out of the National Library huge panels of windows could see us, but we won’t be able to catch them. Pounding her ass energetically, her pussy was going into a permanent state of tight. She would exclaim that she was going to cum each time an orgasm hit her, and she would just get a little bit tighter. Once or twice was fine, but can you imagine five to six times? I was barely holding myself in.

Our bodies kept bumping against each other in the standing doggie for a long time, and I had to take breaks to calm myself down, while she was begging me to continue. Damn, what could I do when faced with such a sexy young school girl, my mind was totally raping her, opposite to the speed I was humping her at.

Me: ‘Oh shit! I’m about to cum!’

Sharon: ‘Wait wait!’

I stepped away from her and she looked at my swollen redness, a little lost about what to do next. Reaching for her panties on the floor, I took it and wrapped it around my shaft, while I turned my body to lean on her body. Her quick reaction took over and she grabbed my cock in the panties, jerking it while trying to catch me spraying my load.

One minute, one full minute that felt like a long time was all it took. My load totally changed part of her panties into a dark grey, and it just kept soaking up all of my juices as time passed. After I was done, I unwrapped the undies and returned it to her, which she giggled without concern about going pantyless later on.

Me: ‘What now? You don’t have a spare right?’

Sharon: ‘Spare for what?’

She took it and checked that my cum was smeared all over the area that her pussy was in contact with. Without hesitation, she stretched it and stepped into it, adjusting over her bottom and pulled her dress straight.

Sharon: ‘Done!’

I could only smile at her innocence or adventurous character. We took our belongings and went to the bus stop with 851, hopping into one with few people in it. In the bus, I was leaning against the window tired, while she lifted her dress up to masturbate with my sperms as lubricant. We alighted after a forty minutes right, and she slipped me her number on my phone, while I dozed off in the bus.

Hmm.. I think tonight is a good time to call her up, perhaps for another quickie around our neighbourhood.

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