mound caress

Last Thursday, I sat next to a middle-aged African American woman on the bus. She was dressed in a business suit. Unfortunately, she had a small bag on her lap -- not large enough to give me good cover -- , but I got down to business anyway.

I folded my arms and let my right hand brush against her upper thigh. After a couple of minutes, she looked down at my hand and shifted away from me. But I felt I still had a chance, so I sat back and extended my fingers once again to find her trouser-clad thigh. This time, there was no reaction.

So I edged a little closer and placed my own bag in a convenient position on my lap to provide maximum cover for my devilish hand. I extended two fingers and got an inch closer to her pussy, but I was still at least an inch away from her groin/mound area.

This is when she rested her head against the window and started dozing off. It's always hard to read this sign, but I felt confident enough to continue my game. I inched the hand further to the right and could feel her panty line through the fabric of her trousers. My fingers had reached the groin.

I probed the groin gently with the tip of my fingers and got no reaction. In fact, even the most severe jerks of the bus couldn't get her to open her eyes, which I took to be a good sign.

And then, as i continued to test the waters, she extended her legs forward, which thrust her pussy up, making it more accessible. I edged closer and placed my fingers straight on the upper region of her pussy.

My success continued when she opened her legs a little bit. I immediately pushed my fingers downward and could feel the warmth of her labia. But I didn't have the guts to rub her pussy.

By this time, my entire palm was on her right thigh and four fingers were gripping her mound. I could sense some more favorable movement but it would have been too risky to throw caution to the winds. I could feel the crinkly hair on her mound, but I didn't dare to slide a finger in through the edge of her panties to feel her clit directly through the trouser fabric. All this while, she kept drifting in and out of sleep (or pretending to) but not looking down even once.

Then she woke up with a look of finality and slowly looked down. She expressed some surprise and shock to find my hand down there, so I withdrew. But I think that was all posturing. She then slid her bum away and straightened her back to signal that the game was over.

In a cheery tone, I said someting about the traffic being heavy, and she said yes in a stern voice. But there was no hostility -- I just think she'd had enough.

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