First lesbian orgasm on the bus

I often have to travel to a neighboring city for work, once a month, sometimes even more often, and my day starts with waiting for the bus at six in the morning at the bus station. Half-asleep, you stand there in any weather under the roof on the platform and watch the station wake up, people going somewhere, arriving from somewhere. There’s a certain kind of romance in all of it, I’ve always been very curious to watch these people.

The trip takes about four hours, and in the evening, already almost at night, I return the same way back. The bus is always huge, but filled at most by a third, I always try to go to the very back seats and spend time there reading a book, listening to music or just falling asleep to the steady rocking of the bus.

That particular trip turned out to be interesting because there was another passenger my age sitting in the back row. She was a pleasant-looking girl, and what was especially interesting was that she looked a lot like me in style, it felt very unusual.

It was already eight in the evening, it was gradually getting dark outside, the bus was almost empty — the five rows in front of the back seats were unoccupied, which I always liked. I was sitting with a book, reading and watching the girl out of the corner of my eye. She was clearly trying hard to find something in her backpack, and after what seemed like an unsuccessful attempt, she turned to me:

— Hi, sorry to bother you, do you have any wet wipes?

— Hi, I do.

I took a small pack from the side pocket of my backpack and handed it to her.

It seemed like she didn’t really need them that much, she looked a bit nervous, it was very interesting to watch her. The girl continued the conversation, trying to be unobtrusive.

— Are you going home? Or from home? — she asked, wiping her hands.

— Home, I went there for work for a day.

— Nice, I’m also going home from my parents’. By the way, I’m Emma.

She reached out her hand to me, I shook it.

— I’m Anna, — I replied with a smile, I definitely liked my new acquaintance.

— If you don’t mind, can I move and sit with you? — Emma looked at me a bit shyly, with a questioning look.

— Yes, of course, come sit, it’s more fun with company.

An hour later we already knew a lot of interesting things about each other. Emma was a student, in her final year at university. She was an amazing conversationalist. It was so pleasant to talk to her that I didn’t immediately realize she was showing an increased interest in me — the way a man does when he first becomes interested in a woman. At first her questions seemed completely normal, about guys, about work, but then she started asking how I felt about interacting with girls and began making unmistakable compliments about my appearance.

I didn’t know how to react to that, but something inside me said: “I like this.”

Emma pulled me in like a magnet. Her movements, her voice, her eyes — they were deep green eyes with long lashes. She looked at me without looking away. There was something unusual about Emma, I just couldn’t understand it yet.

— Anna, honestly, I started talking to you because you turned me on. I watched you on the platform for a long time. Sorry for being so direct, but I like girls. And I want you to know that right away.

That kind of news made me a little embarrassed, but I had always been okay with it, although I did prefer men. The conversation shifted into a new, unfamiliar plane for me. Emma was asking things, the answers to which made me blush and feel shy, but I answered every one. Completely charmed by her, I was sharing the most intimate things. When we started talking about sex, I realized it was turning me on. I didn’t understand what to do with it, but I knew for sure that I was aroused — I had never felt that with any man.

There was about an hour and a half left until the bus station. Time was flying, and Emma was already sitting next to me, pressing her thigh against mine. Everything that followed felt like a sweet dream.

— Anna, I want to kiss you. Your lips are so tempting, and I can’t stop thinking about them, — Emma said, clearly nervous, still looking straight into my eyes.

She was clearly afraid my reaction would be negative. But I couldn’t answer — it seemed like I wanted it too and could only nod in agreement.

Emma, sliding her right hand under my hair, pressed into my lips hard and deep. She kissed me sweet and at the same time greedy, hungry, so that my head spun. Her hands were trembling. She turned toward me as much as the seats allowed. She pushed me back against the seat, kept stroking my hair and kissing me. Her other hand was already sliding under my blouse. The level of arousal was at its peak for both of us.

Her touches felt like pure bliss. Every movement of her hands made me shiver.

Only another woman can understand a woman’s desire.

Emma reached my breasts. She pushed her hand under my bra, squeezing my breasts, touching my nipples with her fingers. They got hard, tight, sensitive. She started pressing them with her fingertips, rubbing them. It made me moan, but I knew I couldn’t make noise and held it back, kissing her.

It was already dark outside, we weren’t attracting attention from the passengers, but the thought that we could be seen added a sharp rush of adrenaline, making everything feel stronger.

Stopping for a second, Emma asked the most important question for her:

— Do you want to continue? — she was still squeezing my breast, her breathing uneven.

— Very much, — I whispered.

Emma let go of my breast and started kissing my neck, biting my earlobe, whispering:

— I want you.

Everything went dark in front of my eyes again. I couldn’t breathe properly, my legs were shaking from tension and desire. My panties were completely soaked through.

Emma’s hand slid over my stomach, down my leg, moving toward the edge of my skirt. How good that I was wearing stockings, I thought, spreading my legs a little wider. I wanted her hand between my legs as soon as possible.

She clearly liked that invitation.

With the very tips of her fingers, she touched my panties, running over them from top to bottom — where everything was already wet and hot. Moving them aside, she started touching my pussy lips and my clit. It was so fucking gentle. Her hand was small, and she managed to touch me very precisely, exactly where it hit hardest.

It felt like my wetness was already running down my legs, soaking everything, the seat, my skirt. I didn’t care — I wanted it more than anything in my life.

Her fingers moved confidently. Very soon two of them were already inside me, and her thumb was rubbing my clit. I didn’t just want to moan — I wanted to scream from the pleasure. I twisted, feeling the orgasm building.

One hot wave after another rolled through my body.

Sensing it, Emma covered my mouth with a kiss again and sped up. A couple of seconds later I came.

I was in such a state that I didn’t want anything in that moment except to continue, not to stop even for a second.

Emma was just as turned on as I was, but she controlled herself better. She didn’t even think about stopping and kept pushing her fingers deeper inside me. It felt like there were already four. Her hand was completely wet, soaked, and I spread my legs even wider, wanting to feel her hand deeper.

My clit was swollen, every touch hit like electricity. Her hand was almost completely inside me. With her fingers she pressed against the upper wall, and waves of orgasm hit again.

Sweat ran down my back, I was burning from the inside.

Her hand moved faster and harder. Emma covered my mouth with her other hand and whispered for me to stay quiet. It was almost impossible to control — my body was shaking in orgasm.

Only when I finally collapsed and could breathe again, Emma pulled her hand out of me, unbuttoned her pants and pushed that same hand into her panties.

She was touching herself, moving on the seat, asking me to watch.

And I couldn’t do anything else. Completely hooked on her, I watched her cum again and again, biting her lips almost to blood so no sound would come out.

The wipes really did come in handy when we came back to our senses. We had to quickly clean ourselves up — we were already entering the city, and the driver could turn on the lights any second.

We both felt the strong smell of sex on the back seat. It felt like the whole bus could feel it.

— Where do you need to go from the station? — I asked.

— Toward the university. My apartment is nearby, — Emma replied.

— I live that way too… maybe we go to my place?

I looked at her with hope. I didn’t want to part.

— With pleasure, — she said, kissing me and squeezing my breast again. — This is far from the end of the evening.

The road to the station and then to my home felt endless. Waiting for what would happen next made time freeze.

But it was worth it.

That night was unforgettable. We barely slept — only stopping for a shower and a short rest, still staying in bed, pressed to each other. We talked, laughed, and fucked again.

In the morning, after seeing Emma off to the university, I came back to bed. Her smell was everywhere.