Overnight Bus

Waiting in the empty passengers’ lounge of the long distance bus terminal, for over half an hour, on a chilly January night made me jittery. I had to attend a court case on the next day and for that I had to travel alone for the first time. It would be a long distance, overnight, bus journey and I did not have a reservation. Dumbstruck, I was blaming my luck, why on earth it had fallen on me; someone else should have been assigned for the job, however, I was aware about the reasons. Technically, I was the most suitable person in the office; I dealt the file all along, it was with me for months and I knew the facts of the case better than anyone else. But the date for a court case is always intimated well in advance. What the departmental counsel told my boss over phone was crap and pure lies; no correspondence had been made and no advance intimation about the date had come from his end. It was intimated just today, and that too had been over phone, but I could not convince my boss that there was no advance intimation and that I did not have prior knowledge about the date. As a result, all my pleadings fell on deaf ears; he did not consider that it would be next to impossible to get a rail or bus reservation in such a short time, nor did he consider the dangers of sending a young woman alone on such a long journey.
I had no escape from his onslaught but had some faint hope that my husband could arrange at least for a bus reservation since he had some connections with the providers of bus service. He came with me to arrange for the last minute reservation and to see me off. I was waiting for him in the passengers’ lounge for half an hour; most of the buses had already left by then and at 8:30 pm, the last bus was preparing to depart. With no sign of his return, I was getting more impatient with each passing minute. All of my repeated rings on his mobile went unanswered. He picked up my last call and informed me that he managed the reservation, but it did not reduce my tension. On returning from the office, I did not have much time left for getting ready. In a hurry, I wore just a woollen cardigan over a sari, underestimating the evening chill. Now I shivered, standing in the open areas of the passengers’ lounge, regretting that I wore a thin sari instead of pants or jeans, which would have been more comfortable for the journey, I just knew the cardigan would not be enough for the night.

I smiled for the first time, seeing his smug look as he handed me the reservation ticket. I should have kissed him instantly as a reward but ignoring the urge, handed over him my small travel bag. We walked toward the bus waiting in the parking bay. Together we entered through the open doors. I followed him as we searched for my seat, number 12. Under the dimmed lighting of the bus, I noticed its plush interior, heavy curtain on the windows, and reclining seats with thick cushions. I thought it was not as bad as I expected. Soft music played and the scent of lavender in the air pleased my senses. Passengers were seated in most of the seats. There were four seats in a row; two seats side by side on the right and two on the left with an aisle in between. After locating my seat, my husband put my travel bag in the overhead bin and asked me to take my seat. I had a window seat and a middle aged man was next to me.
There was not enough space for entering into my seat and I asked him, “Would you mind to let me in?” Strangely, he did not reply and did not move an inch to let me in. Without wasting time, squeezing myself, I got into my seat. My husband looked worried, silently waited there for few minutes, and when the bus started honking, he waved to me and got down from the bus.
After a few minutes, a faint smell of alcohol surpassed the smell of lavender and as I searched for the source, I found in horror that the person seated next to me was heavily drunk with dropped jaws and in a slumber. Oh my God, how could I sit next to him for the night? I thought. Other passengers seated nearby may have noticed his condition and maybe for that reason they were looking at me, while I took my seat. In the same row, on the other side of the aisle, a middle aged couple was seated and the man was looking at me, leaning forward. My husband was waiting outside for the departure of the bus and I rang him to ask him to change my seat but he replied irritated, “Why do you have to change seats? It is in the front of the bus!”
He had a tough time getting my reservation and I toned down, “Please try and tell me, if it is possible.”
“Ok,” he snipped.
In a while, I could not find him at the place where he stood and he informed me on mobile, “It’s not possible now, the bus is full. I have talked to the bus conductor and he will change it, if you want, while the bus is on move.” It turned as another point of tension and I was praying for luck. After honking a few more times, the doors closed and we lurched forward.
The man on the other side of the aisle, in the same row, again leaned forward and asked me, “Excuse me madam, would you like to change your seat? You can take my seat.”
It was like music in my ears. He must have overheard the call while I talked to my husband. At that moment, he was sent from heaven. “Yes, thanks, so kind of you.”
The man seated beside me might have woken up from slumber and as he yawned, a strong smell of alcohol filled my nostrils. I did not bother to ask him for space and dragged myself out from the seat, crossing his probing knees. The kind gentleman, on the other end, stood up and came out from his seat to make room for me.
I was thanking him again while his wife asked me, “Would you mind taking my seat?” I could not see her properly but her voice was very sweet and soothing. I told her, “Thanks, this one is ok for me.” I could not make out what prompted her to offer me her seat; maybe due to the chilly wind entering through the gaps of the closed window. She insisted on a seat change. By then her husband had moved and was sitting in my window seat, beside the drunken man. She stood up from her seat and came out to make room for me. I was grateful to the gentleman for offering me his seat and I had no reason to refuse his wife for seat change. I smiled and slid in to take the window seat. She sat on the seat where her husband had been seated. I told her, “Your husband saved me from sitting there.”
“Yeah, how could you sit next to such a drunken man for the whole night? I told him to ask you and by the way, he is not my husband, he is my elder brother,” she said, smiling.
I regretted, “Oh, I am so sorry. I should have asked you.”
“No problem, don’t be sorry, it’s not an offence,” she laughed off and after pausing for a moment asked me, “Now let me guess, it was your husband who came with you inside the bus?”
I nodded my head.
She asked again, “But he got off from the bus. You are travelling alone?”
“I am working and it’s some urgency related to my job,” I answered her smilingly.
“Wow, you are working and travelling alone for your job.”
She was maybe a housewife but after misjudging them as husband and wife, I could not ask to be sure. She was maybe 46-47 and he was around 52-53 and they were travelling together; but just for those reasons, I should not have assumed they were husband and wife. The glass door between the driver’s cabin and passengers’ section had been closed, while the bus started, profusely decreasing engine sound and we continued chatting.
“Yes, he came to see me off. He has his jobs here to attend to,” I said, smiling.
For the next 15 minutes she continued asking me in detail about our jobs, where in the town we live, how long we were married and so on, which I replied diligently. She was surprised to know that I have son aged 13 who is living in a hostel.
“You do not look like a mom of a 13 year old! Why he is in a hostel?”
I told her smiling, “We got married at very young age. The college where he’s studying is good and very reputed. It’s not easy to get admission there and it’s not very far from our place, just two hours drive. Since we both are working, we thought to put him in a good college. We visit him every month.”
She snapped back laughing, “And by that, you two don’t get disturbed! You did not say that but I understood. Now I get it, that’s the secret of your sexy look!”
I was stunned and smiled meekly. We continued chatting but I was cautious not to make any wrong guesses or to ask anything about her. Her casual nature and soothing voice pacified my tense nerves.
The lights of the bus were switched off by then and within half an hour, as we crossed the main town, it was dark except the road ahead, which was illuminated by the headlights of the bus and a few other vehicles on road. The music was muted and all on the bus were silent, perhaps most of them had dozed off by then. Coldness increased on the bus as it reached the outskirts of town. The chilly wind crept in through invisible gaps of the windows and I shivered with the cardigan I wore over the sari.
The lady seated next to me may have felt my discomfort and asked me, “Oh, you haven’t brought anything to cover?”
I shook my head, “I left home in a hurry and was not sure about a reservation but it’s ok, I can manage.”
She bent down and dragged out a bag from under her seat and on unzipping it took out some cloths. She kept those cloths on her lap, zipped the bag, and pushed it back under her seat. It was not cloths but blankets, as I noticed when she called her brother and gave him one. She unfolded the other one and told me, “I brought two for us and I think we can share this one. It is big enough.”
I was hesitant and said with smile, “Thanks for your offer but I can manage.”
She did not heed to my reply, and pulled up the foldable arm rest between our seats. She spread the blanket, covering me, and said, “Don’t be so formal. How can I, when you shiver sitting beside me?”
I protested, “But it’s a single blanket!”
“Yeah but big enough to cover us, sit close,” she retorted.
But I was still not sure to accept her offer. “Hey, I do not want to inconvenience you.”
She replied with a mischievous smile, “Don’t worry, it won’t inconvenience me and you will have to pay me back for the blanket, ok? It’s not for free, is that ok?”
I could not protest anymore and asked, “Ok, how much do I have to pay?” I removed my running shoes when I changed seats and by that time, even with socks on my feet, they had turned ice cold. The blanket was really big enough for both of us and it even covered my feet.
She spread the blanket, making sure I got enough. “You should have asked me for a blanket.”
I silenced her with my answer, “How would I know that you are carrying those?”
She tried to secure the blanket by shoving its end between my left shoulder and the side of the wall of the bus and while doing so, her hand grazed over my boobs, maybe unintentional but I felt she took time to secure the blanket that was longer than necessary.
On turning to me, she smiled mysteriously, “I have many things, you do not know but you will. And please, let me know you better.”
I could not make out what she meant and after putting the blanket on me, she put it on herself.
“Your husband is very handsome and caring, lucky you,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling.
She turned to me and said, “So you are, beautiful, young, ripe, and sexy.”
“Thanks,” I said, hesitatingly, trying to make out her innuendo.
She told me she came to meet relatives here and was going back home with her elder brother. She was kind by asking her brother to exchange his seat with mine and even exchanged her window seat but her repeated ‘sexy’ remarks made me apprehensive about what was in her mind. I did not dare to ask about a husband or her marital status since I goofed up at the very beginning. She could not believe when I told her that I was 37 and had a son who was 13.
I was conscientious and cared about my figure, and even after childbirth, within months I got back my shape and pre-pregnancy figure by getting rid of the extra fat and loose muscles with the right exercises. I ate a balanced diet, attended the gym throughout the year, took care of my skin with natural products, and had a masseuse visit my home at least twice in a month. For years this was my routine. At 37 years, with a modest height of 5′-5″, none would have given me a second look unless I followed that regimen scrupulously but still I am not slim, but rather a little plump. It was genetics, my parents were plump and I knew it would not be possible to be skinny like many others. My figure is a result of my hard work and the pride I take with every look of appreciation, it motivates me to stick to my schedule. I always wore the right clothes but was upset then for not wearing a warmer sweater and pantsuit instead of a thin sari for the overnight journey.
I was not wearing a bra as I do not wear one at night at home because breasts need to be freed from the clutches of a bra at least for a few hours a day and the best time is while sleeping. The blouse I wore for this journey was made of stretchable hosiery cloth and it was not clasping. The lady might have realised that I was not wearing a bra because she grazed my boobs for a short period while adjusting the blanket on me.
I was enjoying the warmth under the blanket as the vibrations spread from the floor to the seats, when the lady asked me, “You are warm now but my hands are still cold. Would you make them warm?”
I wondered and answered, “How can I warm your hands?”
She replied in a conspiring tone, “Mind my hands on your tummy?”
I laughed. “It would not make any good. Are you serious?”
She did not wait for my answer, on turning towards me, she pulled up the lower end of my cardigan and thrust both her hands on my bare skin. Her hands were very cold and I protested. “What are you doing?”
She smiled and said, “It’s your payback time. Please make me warm.”
I am ticklish around my tummy and she was putting her palms and the backs of hands alternately on my tummy as if making toast on a hot pan. I took her hands from my tummy and keeping them between my hands, I rubbed them and told her, “It will warm your hands.”
But she dragged her hands from me, telling me in a harsh tone, “No, you owe me and it is your payback time.”
The change of her tone was scary and shocking to me and with those words she put her right hand through my cardigan and it went upward grasping my left boob. I cringed in shock, oh my God, what should I do? Scream or fight? The whole bus was dark and silent, all were sleeping. My scream would wake up them and it would be a scene. She offered me a seat, was it not generosity but to take advantage of me? She had these ideas in her mind, was she a lesbian? I was thinking while I tried to pull her hand but she would not budge.
“Shhh…Do not make any sounds, enjoy it sweetie,” she whispered.
Still trying to pull with my gradually weakened strength, I held her forearm, I was thinking, I have never been into women. She took to pressing and stroking my boobs. So, was it her way of making her hands warm? As her hands moved she touched my nipple through my blouse. She pinched it hard, and it rippled through my body. Raising my head, I looked at her side, in front, and at the back, to make out whether anyone could see and guess what was going under the blanket, but it was dark. By then she put her left hand over my shoulder and held my left tit while right hand moved on the right one. She was getting bolder with my inaction. Her right hand pulled up my blouse, baring both breasts.
She brought her face near to my ear and whispered, “So full Mom, give me some milk.”
Oh, she was crazy, how could I give her milk. I shook my head. “No, no.”
But she retorted, “Oh, you will, your breasts are so full! You must have some, let me suck and I will take out some.”
I replied in delirium, ‘My son is 13, how can I have milk now?”
She was almost inaudible in reply, “Let me check Mom.”
I did not know why but I nodded my head and she put her face inside the blanket. Her fingers were still moving on my breasts and she drew my right breast near to her lips. I felt her hot breath on it. First, she kissed my nipple then licked it, and gradually took into her mouth, sucking it. Oh my God, it turned me on. She was on my lap, head under the blanket, and the seat on my right looked vacant. I was sitting like a ghost with a head sticking out from the blanket; looking at all angles in the dark to find out if anyone might be following us, but it was pitch dark. Her right hand was on my left my boob and it moved down, slipping under my sari and petticoat. It travelled inside my panties and touched between my thighs. Oh my God, how could I stop her? Suddenly the bus stopped and the lights inside the bus switched on. My jolt resulted in a quick withdrawal of her hands, as she hurriedly rose back to her seat and peeped out from the blanket.
The bus was parked beside a road side motel and some other buses were also parked there. Some passengers were eating in the motel and a few others stood in the vicinity, making the place a little bit crowded. On opening the front door, our bus conductor made a sudden loud announcement regarding a 20 minute dinner break for the passengers, but no one moved. Perhaps, most were still asleep. Slowly, a few passengers walked out of the bus and the brother of the lady came out from his seat and on telling something to the lady, he went out. I looked at her as my heart beats dwindled and found her smiling looking at me. Stopping for dinner did save me from her assaults but surprisingly I was not angry with her. She asked me for dinner and I politely answered that I had my dinner at home.
“Let us go out to have something light,” she said.
Again, I politely told her that she might go and I would prefer to remain seated. She got up and pulled the blanket from me. “Oh, come on, we may have something.” She pulled me by the hand and I had to stand up and come out from the bus with her.
We walked towards the motel and after reaching there I could see her properly for the first time, as I could not see her under the dimmed lights of the bus; she looked to be in her mid-forties, taller than me, chubby, and a simple looking woman in a light green sari. We stood together beside the glass door of the motel, but no one from the motel staff came to invite us in.
After a while, an employee saw us and asked if we would like dinner. I shook my head, I was not hungry. She stepped in front of me and said, “No, not dinner but what else do you have here to eat?”
He listed their menu for her and she settled for hot tea. She turned to me and asked me to order but I declined to have anything. She looked at me for a while, then cancelled the tea, and ordered him to bring a glass of hot milk. He told us to sit inside as it would take some time but we remained there, standing outside.
“Come, we can go to the washroom in the meantime,” she said.
The washrooms were clean and several ladies were there. I went in first, while she waited and then she went in. We walked back toward the entrance but did not go inside to our table. We stood there, face to face, and she was cool with nothing amiss to show what she had done to me on the bus. The staff, who took her order, came back with a glassful of hot milk and she took it from him. 

She looked into my eyes for awhile and asked me, “Would you like to have few sips?”
I nodded my head and she took a sip without losing eye contact and told me, “It’s your milk.”
I dropped eyes and felt my cheeks burn hot but I remained there, transfixed, standing before her as she took slow sips while looking at me, and licking her lips.
She spoke again, “It’s so sweet and tasty! Would not you like to taste even few drops of your milk?”
I gazed at my feet, scratching the ground underneath, and stayed silent.
She stretched the almost empty glass towards me and said in a harsh tone, “Taste it now.”
My knees weakened as I took the glass from her and finished the milk in one long sip. She watched and asked, “You like it?”
I was looking at my feet again when she harshly asked again, “Did you like it?”
I nodded my head, yes and she smiled. “I told you. You have very sweet milk and they are selling it here.”
My head was reeling as she took hold of my hand. “Come, we will go back to the bus.”
Upon returning to the bus, we sat in our seats and when she started spreading the blanket on me, I pushed it aside and told her, “I do not need it.” I would not let that happen again. Although I knew I had to make the journey and I had to sit beside her for the night as it would not be possible to ask anyone to exchange seats with me midway, there would be no reason to explain. I could not ask her brother to give back my allotted seat. There could not be any reason to explain my preference to sit beside a drunken person. The other option was to shout and fight back but it would be scandalous for me. She was in the same posture, holding the blanket to spread, looking sternly at me; clearly she did not like my reply and it made me nervous. After a long silence and frozen posture, she started to spread the blanket on me, I did not resist since I did not want to annoy her more.
The bus engine started and the inside lights of the passengers’ cabin were switched off. Silence descended as most might have resumed sleeping. The lady, sitting on my right was awake but she did not say anything, perhaps because she was angry. We kept some distance between us in spite of being under the same blanket. I dozed off in no time, sleeping with intermittent disturbances for an hour or so but when I opened eyes during one such sleep break, I found my head leaning on her shoulder and her left hand resting on my left arm, crossed over my shoulder. As I tried to straighten up, she grasped my left arm and when I raised my eyes I met her gaze.
She put on a faint smile and whispered, “Sleep, baby.”
I was sleepy and leaned back again on her shoulder. As she patted my arm in a slow rhythm, my eyes closed but I could not fall asleep as the patting changed to sporadic pressing and her fingers moved from my arm to my left breast. When her fingers moved over my nipple, it was instantly erect. It was happening again and I knew it could not be avoided.
On deciding to ignore it and feigning asleep, I kept my eyes closed but the sensation gradually awakened my body as her fingers moved inside my blouse through a small opening on top. She held and caressed my breast and then started kneading it. As she could not reach over to my right breast with left hand thrown over my shoulder, she lifted my blouse, baring both under the blanket and resumed to kneading both. With faster breaths, I had to struggle to feign asleep. Her right hand left my breast and grazed down over my tummy. Her fingers trailed against my skin before sliding inside my panties, under my petticoat and sari. My thighs spread involuntarily to make room for her fingers as they slipped down. When her searching fingers reached my pussy I closed my thighs involuntarily to clasp them inside. Slight sounds might have escaped from my lips, as her fingers touched my pussy.
“Sleep, baby, I just want your honey,” she whispered.
Her words shocked me, did she understand that I was feigning asleep as her fingers stroked and petted my pussy? Wetness spread on her fingers and I moved forward to let fingers go deeper. Hot breaths, fell on my right ear, sounding like a rising storm as her probing tongue touched my earlobe. Inside my ear, sounds of wet licks filled my head. Her fingers delved further, making my juices flow, and making it easier for her to go in and out of the tight clasp of my thighs.
In those moments of passion, the blanket covering me fell down but she did not bother to gather it and cover me, but rather continued kneading my breast and pinching my nipple. I could not wake up to cover myself with the blanket that would have exposed my feigning asleep. The passengers’ cabin was dark but occasionally was illuminated by the headlights of passing vehicles and it worried me that someone awake may see my boobs, but I could not take a chance to let her know that I was awake. I hoped she would cover me, but instead of doing that she intensified the movements of her fingers inside me. Reeling under intense energy building inside, I spread my thighs and thrust forward. She pushed her fingers deeper inside and moved faster. She pressed her lips on mine, then kissed and sucked my lips. In no time, shaking violently, I came on her intruding fingers.
On breaking the kiss, she watched my face intently. I did not know how convincing it was but I kept my eyes closed, feigning sleep. On withdrawing her fingers, she wiped them on my bare breast, then licked and sucked for a while before covering me with the blanket. I sat still, leaning on her shoulder and turned my head. She looked around maybe to know whether anyone did follow us and on looking back, shook my face, maybe to wake me up but I did not respond. I decided to continue pretending I was asleep. Maybe she was relieved to find no one in the darkness, she hugged me tight and kissed me again.
My acts might have assured her that I would not wake up come whatever may and taking it as my tacit permission; she dropped the blanket and started fondling my breasts in the open. Though it scared me, as someone could see in the lights of the passing vehicles, she turned me on again, her expert fingers moved under my sari to find my wet spot and she made me cum again.
I did not know when I fell asleep for real or for how long I slept but when the bus conductor woke me up, I was the last seated passenger. I was relieved to find my dress in order. Daylight peeped in through the windows as the last few passengers exited the bus but there was no sign of the lady or her brother, the drunken guy or anyone else, I could remember. Standing up in hurry, picking up my travel bag, I de-boarded from the bus. Calling a taxi, I started for the departmental guest house to freshen up before attending the court and busy day ahead.
On reaching court, I had an hour of briefing and consultation with the departmental lawyer and around 12 pm, we left his chamber as I had to be present during the court proceedings. The shock of my life was waiting inside the court; the lady I travelled with was seated on the judge’s chair! Her gaze fell on me as we entered the court room and a faint smile crossed her lips.

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