Greyhound Bus (True Story)
In 1970, I was 19 and I had just checked into my new duty station at Naval Air Station Lemoore, California having just finished 6 months of "A" school in Jacksonville, Florida on aircraft electrical systems
I was now at the Greyhound bus station, in my dress blues, heading home to San Jose, for a week's leave It was around 8P.M. and dark as a well diggers ass. I boarded the bus. Interior lights were on. Each row of seats had two on the right, two on the left, with an aisle going down the middle. The bus was pretty full, with a few empty seats scattered here and there.
I passed up a seat next to a dirty looking hippie. Around the middle of the bus, the next empty seat was on the right, next to a middle-aged man who looked up and smiled as I approached. I looked toward the back. None of the empty seats left were next to a nice-looking woman, so what the heck, I took the aisle seat next to the friendly guy. He asked how I was doing, I replied I was doing good, looking forward to going home for a week. I settled down in the seat for the drive to San Francisco. My neighbor was around his late 40's, stocky, but fit and pretty much an average looking guy.
The interior lights went out, and the bus left the terminal. The only lights on now were an occasional reading light that were above each of the seats.
About five or ten minutes after the bus got on the highway heading north, I felt my neighbor's right knee touch against my left knee.
Barely noticeable, not intrusive. It was close quarters after all. I moved my knee to the right just a little.
A few minutes later, I felt his knee against mine again. I Looked to my left. He was looking out the window into the darkness, his right hand rested on his thigh.
I stayed as I was.
I felt the pressure against my knee increase, just a little. I didn't know if the touching was intentional or not, so stood my ground.
He began lifting his heel up and down off of the floor, making his knee rub up and down against mine, just slightly. I didn't, move away.
My mind went back six months to my first and only encounter with another man and wondered if I was being sent an invitation.
I have thought about that day often over the last six months. I've jacked off many times thinking about it, wishing I hadn't been so ashamed. I've come to the conclusion that even though everyone I know say's men shouldn't do those things together, I liked it. I want more of it
I looked around. No one in the area around us had reading lights on, and no one was looking at us.
Instead of moving my knee away from the rubbing, I pressed my knee against his.
The response was immediate, his right hand moved from his thigh to the seat between us, the back of his hand against my thigh and he moved his fingers up and down against my thigh.
I looked to my left, to see that he was looking at me. I smiled. He smiled and stood up enough to reach up to the overhead bin and brought down a blanket the bus company supplied for customers. He sat down, reclined his seat back a little and asked if I'd like to share a blanket.
I said "sure".
I reclined my seat back, and as we spread the blanket over us, I rested my right foot on the pedestal that was at the bottom of each seat. This raised my right knee, allowing the blanket to form a tent over my lower body.
I looked around again. No one was paying any attention to us. My neighbor's right hand was immediately on my left thigh, rubbing the full length of my thigh gently.
After a few seconds, his hand moved to my crotch. My cock was quickly becoming hard and I'm sure he could feel it, and soon he was squeezing it gently.
I moved my left hand to his thigh and could feel his body heat through his jeans which were skintight on him and felt my way to his crotch.
All the while, I was keeping my gaze straight ahead, and occasionally looking around to see if we had been noticed by anyone.
He began trying to unbutton the flap of my dress blues using just his right hand without much success.
I moved my left hand from his crotch and unbuttoned the four buttons on the left side of the flap.
His hand instantly slid inside my blues, found the fly of my boxers and pulled my now rock hard 7-inch cock out and began stroking the full length of it.
I returned my left hand to his crotch, and began trying to unzip his pants, which I found impossible to do, and he wasn't helping.
I eventually gave up and laid my head back against the seat, continued rubbing his crotch gently, and let him have his way.
My cock was on fire!
He stroked me with slow steady strokes, his hand wrapped around my cock, applying even pressure from tip to base with each stroke.
I looked at him to see him looking right at me. I squeezed his crotch gently and looked down at his lap area and back up hoping he would get the hint and make his cock available to me.
No such luck. He just continued playing with my cock. At the bottom of a stroke, he slid his hand down and over my balls giving them a gentle squeeze. I couldn't help the moan that I let out.
He went back to stroking my cock. For the next 5 minutes or was it 10, I couldn't say, he had me in ecstatic agony. The head of my cock was so sensitive, my body would spasm when he touched it.
His hand was at the end of the upstroke, wrapped around the head of my cock when it erupted.
I'm sure I let out a moan as my cock began squirting a monster load into his hand.
My cock pulsed out four or five high pressure streams of cum.
He tried to stem the flow by squeezing just below the head of my cock with his thumb and forefinger, but it was a lost cause. His hand, my cock, and the inside of the flap of my blues were all covered in cum.
He removed his hand and produced a handkerchief to wipe his hand clean. He offered the handkerchief to me under the blanket.
I wiped up the best I could, tucked my still hard cock into my cum soaked boxers and buttoned up my blues.
I looked around, certain that our activity had to have been noticed.
The bus was as quiet as a tomb. If anyone did notice us, they were keeping it to themselves.
I moved my left hand back to my neighbor's crotch, rubbing gently, hoping he would release his cock from the denim prison encasing it, but no such luck.
We finished the trip to San Francisco in silence.
After we exited the bus, he asked if I'd like to go to his place. I declined, figuring he'd be as "one way" at his place as he was on the bus.
I found the bus to San Jose, and continued my trip home.
