Solitos EROTICA

Chapter I: Catching the bus

     Having just been advised of a mandatory business trip, I rushed to pack before heading out to catch the bus to Niagara. It was a trip on a travel bus that was about 3 hours long. It isn't my first time taking a trip for work, which is helpful; although it's very casual, it does take a lot of my energy. I rang to see if my boyfriend, Jerrid, was home. After what felt like hours but was only minutes, we hung up the phone. After almost a decade of our lives being tangled together, our relationship felt only that; tightness, puzzling, and knotted together. To all who beg that rose-coloured lens is an unrealistic vision for a relationship, what kind of lens am I wearing? 

     Heading out of the terminal, I see the mega-bus. There are people in line, anxiously waiting for the bus driver to let us in. Following the impatient foot tapping, I wait in line behind a man dressed like he is also headed for a business trip. He turns around and asks me a question I can't hear over the thunderous bus engine.

"Pardon me?" I said, puzzled.

"Is this headed to Niagara?" He chuckled, likely recognizing my face as ultimately baffled. 

"Oh! Yes, it is." We stood chatting, slowly indulging the bus in passengers. He was tall, freakishly tall almost. It was charming. His light, brown hair fell upon his face delicately, on top of his adorable button nose. He flashed a smile at me as we climbed the stairs, tapping onto the bus. I chose to sit upstairs, at the back. It's a long trip, and I prefer to be alone. I put in my earbuds and sit back, awaiting the rest of the passengers and the bus to move on. Once the bus starts moving I usually fall asleep anyway. There isn't much to do on a bus that takes three hours. I close my eyes and sit back listening to my usual music playlist.

Waking up, I check the time. It's been about two hours and barely any passengers are left. I head over downstairs to use the washroom and notice the man from earlier sitting with his phone. We exchange smiles and I head inside. Washing my hands, I walk out and notice that the man is busy with his belongings. I head upstairs and hear someone coming up as I reach my seat. 

"Hey, I know this is strange but do you know how much we have left on this trip?" He said, with his same charming smile. Telling him it's two more hours, we exchange our names.

"I'm Amelie, you?" He repeats my name back to me.

"I'm Cam. What brings you to Niagara?" As it turns out, we are both on business trips. We spend the next fifteen minutes chatting. He doesn't have a girlfriend, but I open up about my difficulties with my boyfriend.

"Why don't you break up with him?"

"We've been together for so long. The love is dead. At this point, we stay together for commodity." I dart a smile in his direction, grateful for his empathy. He puts his hand on mine slowly, ensuring my comfort. I leave it. It's nice to feel his warmth, and it feels safe. I grab his hand so he can feel the reciprocity through his fingertips. We stare into each other's honey eyes. I lose myself in him, feeling dissociated yet impulsive. I grab him tight, sending him signals for the traffic to continue. He stays frozen and still like an icicle, only, the chemistry between us reacts to create heat and melts him. He pushes towards my delicate face, stopping only a breath away from my lips. I can feel tingling in my extremities and lips, like infatuated frostbite. I slowly lean to lock our lips, and feel the pressure return. We have privacy on the bus, but is this something we should do? 

     He says he enjoys it through the push against my lips, a pressure that makes my blood flow faster, and my heart beating rapidly at the event of risk. I find my heartbeat in my clit, racing and engorged at the idea of contact; touch is at a difficult yet close reach; like oxygen at a mountaintop. We are intertwined. The childish rush of risk washes through me and it's thrilling. I eat the fear and stand to straddle Cam. Placed on his lap, it feels like a routine dance from a ballerina and a partner, knowing the following pirouette will bring them closer to applause. Slowly, his hands follow down my waist onto my hips. His grizzly hands hold me like he's been waiting for me. I feel his hunger and desperation through every movement. He explores my body like a cartographer studying my geography. I move my hips, grinding against his growing member. I can feel how he is engorging against my lips, wrapped like it's winter, finding shelter, embodying himself so well in between me. Cam's lips open, speechless. 

"You move like the most enchanting song, and please, don't stop," he stares at me, with pondering eyes, looking at what he is missing. My leggings against his pants create friction that triggers something feral inside me; I desperately want more from Cam. I nod and speed up, hearing him let out a small moan. This is as much of a risk for him as it is for me, and we are both taking it. With the crescendo of movement, our moans grow too. I can feel a fire burning inside me. He grabs me by my jaw.

"I want you to look at me when you cum," and with that very statement, I feel like a forest fire. I feel how the pleasure spreads, and how my eyes begin closing. Cam grabs my jaw with secure force, readjusting to his face. He holds my mouth shut as I start to echo in ecstasy. Through heaving breaths, I try and mutter for more. Cam picks me up and sits me down on the seat. I can see his eyes piercing through my clothes, reaching beneath my shirt, exploring every curve of mine. Fondling my breasts, my nipples are pointed. He acquaints himself with them, rubbing and twisting them between his fingers. Holding them with such admiration yet with such strong efforts. 

He slowly slides down my leggings, never breaking eye contact with me. Heat fills my face, and I can feel my desperation growing. The bus takes a sudden stop, leaving us both breathless and confused.