Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Riding Along
by TA Malone 

In my mind, there is nothing wrong with riding a bus. In fact many of the most memorable moments in my life revolved around riding public transportation and women. And this morning, as I reminisced, three moments in particular came to my mind.

They all happened in my hometown of Philadelphia, PA with the first occurring during my third year in college. I was riding the C bus one morning, when a young lady got on wearing a white blouse, black mini skirt and sneaks. Right away her outfit held my attention and I discreetly enjoyed the sight of her cute little socks with the furry ball at the back of the ankle as she paid her fare. And as she walked to the back of the bus, I enjoyed the gentle sway of her hips and the slight whiff of the perfume she wore. 

She gave me a smile, and I gave her a nod as the bus began to move. She was pretty, with butterscotch skin, and jet black hair. Her eyes or contacts were hazel just adding to her beauty. She sat demurely, smoothing out her skirt before placing a nicely rounded backside onto a very lucky seat. I went back to listening to Ice Cube on my Sony Discman –yes this was a while back early 1990's- and staring out the window as Broad Street passed me by. I heard paper unwrapping, but paid it no mind, and enjoyed listening to Cube rap about how good the day was.

My disc skipped as the bus ran over a pothole. I looked down to push the button to start the song over, and then I looked up at the beauty nearby.

She was sucking a lollypop. A Tootsie Roll to be exact.

And not just sucking it…she was killing it. And her actions just seemed to fit the music blaring in my ears…

Just waking up in the morning gotta thank God
I don’t know but today seems kinda odd

Her thick tongue entwined around the sucker, licking and slurping on that Tootsie Roll as if her life depended on it. For about five seconds I stared hypnotized by her actions, before I snapped my head around, and adjusted my crotch as discreetly as I could.

I swore I heard her snicker, but went back to Cube:
Lookin’ in my mirror and not a jacker in sight
Got a beep from Kim and she can fuck-

The young beauty coughed and I looked over to see her slide her lips over the cherry ball of sugar and work her tongue around and around as it sat in her mouth. I could not believe it; for the first time in my life, I was envious of a piece of candy.

Then, her eyes met mine.

Now remember, they were striking, and had me hypnotized from minute one. Now was no different, only now, my 22 year old ass was rock hard and thinking how after all this I could get her phone number.

Then she smiled, and pulled the lollypop from between her succulent lips with a resounding pop.

“Last stop!” the bus driver roared, “End of the line,”

The woman got up, allowing me a flash of her thick toned thighs. She picked up her bag and looked at me, the pop back between her ruby red lips. “Bye,” she said and got off.

I thought about baseball for a few more moments before I followed suit, my gym bag strategically covering my enlarged crotch. I still had a chance to get the digits, or so I thought, for with some regret and a lot of lust, I watched the beauty climb into a car, and a guy around my age driving off, who was I am sure, well aware he was dating Muffy the Lollypop Slayer.

Another moment found me on a train, sitting across from a very naturally pretty woman. She wore a dark colored skirt, which fell just above her knees and very little is any makeup. She too wore sneakers, and our eyes met on more than one occasion, but I would just smile, for the wedding ring on her finger looked as if it were worth more money that my student loans at the time.

But still we would share a glance, for there was nothing else to look at as the subway train rolled along. I figured if I looked down, I could do no harm.

But when I looked down, I saw her legs. It was obvious this Italian beauty worked out, and her thick tan calves looked absolutely tantalizing. I worked my way up to her knees and thighs when the train lurched to a stop and folks got on and off obscuring my view, so I just looked around the train. When the train doors closed and it started up again, I happily went back to her knees, and noticed they were a little farther apart.

I thought nothing of it, and just continued to stare. I looked up and she looked away, a grin on her face, as I looked down again, the gap between her knees was wider.

And…were those panties I saw?

Granted she was older than I was, probably in her early thirties, and still striking. So getting to see between her taught thighs was a surprising pleasure. I had to lick my lips and glance away as the train started to slow down. I looked back and easily saw the pink pattern racing its way across the crotch of her underwear, and when I looked up at her face, the grin she wore was wide and bright. Again the train lurched to a stop and she got off without a word. It was then, and now that I figured she enjoyed the attention from strangers on a train. We all love attention, it lets us know we are still attractive, and provide a daily dose of ego boosting. I was also pretty sure, a very lucky hubby would reap the benefits of her arousal once the kids -if any- were tucked away in bed. 

The last and most memorable public transportation moment, is not so much erotic as romantic.

I sat alone in a pair of blue and beige seats, with my holiday shopping bags between me and the side of a half empty trolley bound for the Sharon Hill area of Pennsylvania when she got on.

The first word that rushed into my brain was regal.

She was maybe 5’6”-5'8” maybe. I couldn't tell you. What I can tell you was she glowed. She radiated that light only some of us have, and with her, it shined bright. At first I could only see the profile of her face, as she stood with her left side facing me while she paid her fare. The long black coat she wore covered her figure, but by the way the midsection curved, there was enough evidence to warrant she at least had a booty. She stood straight and elegantly, and she wore a long dark colored skirt and of course a pair of sneaks blanketed what I imagined were a pristine pair of tootsies. 

One would think she were a descendant of Egyptian Kings and Queens.

Then I saw her face, and…well…years later, Dru Hill wrote a song entitled Beauty which perfectly sums up how I was feeling at that exact moment…

The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name   
I mean she was at the time the most beautiful woman I had ever seen that was not on TV, a movie screen, record/CD cover, or a magazine or an ex girlfriend or future wife. She had golden brown skin, green eyes, and light, almost honey colored hair, which blended perfectly with her skin. I couldn't help but to stare, my mouth open, then, sliding into a smile of appreciation for such beauty. 

She did not walk far and just smiled at me as she took a seat near the driver. And wow, she even sat like a queen. Her back was straight and proud as her manicured hands folded over her stylish purse as it sat in her lap. And twice when those captivating green eyes stopped staring forward and glanced my way, I had to take in a breath, and then cough, because I was on a trolley.

I forget where she got off. I know it was before my stop. But watching her leave, while sad, was just as delightful as watching her majestic arrival. Her walk likened her to one who was used to rose petals being bestowed at their feet. She thanked the driver and looked at me in the mirror. My balls took over and I said good-bye. She smiled and said bye as well and got off the bus.

Why I didn’t pursue her, I will never know. I just know she was one heck of a beauty, and that sometimes I really, really miss riding the bus/train/trolley.

No comments:

Post a Comment