Tuesday, Sept. 09, 2003 - 5:49 p.m.
Proximity

There are lots of hot guys on the bus-ride to work each morning. More than a few of the regulars are callipygians, too, but the ass on one Asian guy in particular is unsurpassed. Jeepers. He’s cute too, maybe mid-30s, a distinctively gay and saucy look in his big brown eyes, a queer swish to his walk as he wiggles down the aisle. Wow.

Over the past nearly-two years I’ve been on this bus route, we have occasionally made eye contact, exchanged half-smiles. But I wouldn’t go so far as to call it cruising. I’ve gotten the sense he might be somewhat attracted to me, and perhaps he’s garnered the same from me. We both read during the ride, though, and I’ve never seriously thought about going beyond a passive admiration for his sweet cheeks. We’ve even shared a seat once or twice, without incident, heads buried in our respective tomes.

So I’m not sure what, um, came over me this morning.

It all started because the bus was uncharacteristically full. I almost always get a seat with no trouble, and it vexes me the few times a year when I don’t. Today was one of those times: I noticed the bubble-butted Asian guy—filling out his Levis oh so nicely—embark just ahead of me, but I didn’t pay much attention. I was still hoping for a seat.

But no. Not enough people got off, and there we all were, a larger crowd than usual, swarming the bus. There were no seats to be had.

Pouting about not being able to read—it’s just too bumpy and awkward—I made my way to the back of the bus. “Keep moving, all the way to the back folks: there’s a lot more people needing to get on here” came the busdriver’s grouchy voice over the intercom.

Scrunch scrunch scrunch. I pushed and squeezed my way past all kinds of bodies, as far back as I could go, right beside the rear exit.

And who was standing there with his back—more importantly, his butt—to me?

You guessed it.

I was standing so close I could feel the heat of his body. He was distractedly looking out the window. As the bus took off and turned the first corner, I hung onto the steel pole with one hand, locking my body for dear life. It was all I could do not to accidentally goose him.

Hmmm, I thought.

The next time the bus rounded a corner, I didn’t lock myself up so tight. Sure enough, my crotch naturally veered into those bodacious buttcheeks. A hot shiver of lust went through me, and I watched the side of his face to see what he’d do.

What he did was cock his head slightly to the right (not far enough to actually look at me) and then, a moment later, take a mini-step back and to the right.

In other words, he moved a few inches closer.

Sprouting a woody by this time, I glanced around to see if anyone could tell what was going on. Nope. Everyone was so scrunched in that nobody but he and I had an inkling.

I unlocked my body completely, letting the bus do with it what it would. That is, except my right knee, which was spasming quite a bit, as it often does when I’m doing something sexual and particularly public and naughty. I kept it locked.

I let the motion of the bus motion catapult my hardening crotch into that butt again and again and again. My dick, pointing uncomfortably downwards, was perfectly aligned to slide into his buttcrack, made visible in bas-relief by those form-fitting Levis. Each time I nudged up against him, his pert buns bounced me back. Sweat began to bead on the cutie’s neck as he kept his eyes focused, but dreamily, out the window. I wanted to lick it off.

Among other things.

Soon I was rock hard, and the friction as I bounced and bounced and bounced off him was whipping me into a frenzy. But he got off (the bus I mean), as he always does, at the stop before mine. I tried to catch his eye to smile—knowingly and gratefully—but he did not meet my eyes.

No matter. It was a perfect posterior, one I’d long drooled over. I’ve been giddy all day about having finally, um, introduced myself.