Bria's newfound photographer, whose name was Jerome, snapped off a couple of dramatic shots from his knees, the camera spotting the lower half of her delicious orbs beneath her top, while the sunlight that echoed throughout the bus peaked under her skirt, revealing to the lens shadowy lips that generously reached down as if to let themselves be seen.
At her outcry, though, he stood quickly to sooth her and salvage the situation. Her model-mode had made for some wonderful fun, but the lulling effect of it was in danger of wearing off.
"Babe, relax, what's got you riled up?"
"My bag! I left my bag on the bench, and my clothes. I've got to get off at the next stop," she said, reaching for the cord that would signal she wanted off.
"Oh man, girl, I'm sorry," Jerome said, intercepting her hand. "This bus is an express. It doesn't stop for awhile now. You wouldn't be able to walk back. Hey hey, sit down, sit down. I've got an idea that'll solve your problem," he told her, pushing her down lightly until she reluctantly sat, perched on the edge of the seat as if she'd spring up again and inadvertently giving a shadowy view beneath her skirt to those in the front of the bus, many of whom had been already watching, and many more of whom were staring now because of her outburst.
"First off, I'm Jerome. It's my pleasure to meet you," he kissed the top of her hand. The old-fashioned act put her off balance, and without thinking she said her name. "Okay, Bria Juergens, do you live at that place, 69 Peter Street?"
She nodded. "In the basement apartment."
"No problem," he smiled, hitting a number on his cell. "I'll get someone to pick it up for you. They'll leave that stuff with your landlord," he said, petting her knee, seemingly forgetting to remove the hand after.
"Yo, Big!" he exclaimed into the phone. "Whatcha up to, man? Ah, that ain't nothing. Me? I'm sitting beside the most gorgeous girl you'll never meet. Ha! It's true man, would I lie? But hey, would do me a favor? I need you to go to 69 Peter Street where this chick lives. She left her clothes and purse and shit on the bus bench there. What? Oh man...." he shook his head gravely. "That's cold, man."
Bria listened intently, trying to guess the other side of the conversation. She barely noticed Jerome's hand rubbing her knee and moving the slightest bit higher. As the conversation went on she turned a bit toward him, inadvertantly spreading her legs just a bit more, to the delight of the die-hard rubberneckers.
"What's he saying?" she whispered. "Will he do it?"
"Hang on, Big." Jerome looked solemnly at her. "He don't believe me, girl. He thinks I'm lying about you, that you don't exist."
"What? Let me talk to him!" Bria clutched his leg above the knee, turning even more to him.
"Nah, he thinks you're some ugly skank or one of those uptight holy bitches that never put out. I don't think I can convince him...." he trailed off.
"I have an idea!" she said, bright-eyed, lips parted in anticipation. She anxiously clutched his leg with her other hand, moving the other up unconsciously, never even noticing how much of a view she was giving the other riders. "Show him the pictures!"
"Damn you're smart," Jerome smiled proudly, petting her leg a little higher up. His other hand had flicked a couple of buttons as it dangled by his other hand, surreptitiously taking completely unblocked upskirt photos of her before easing out to catch a couple of her clutching his leg. "Yeah, I think that'd work! Hey Big, take a look at this and tell me I'm lying."
Jerome deftly worked one-handedly, quickly selecting all the pictures he'd taken, sending them off to his friend as he continued to rub her leg. Without even realizing it her fingers mimicked his, kneading his thigh, inching higher when his did.
"Hah!" he pumped the hand with the phone, using the distraction to move up to nearly mid-thigh.
"What?" she asked breathlessly, moving higher herself.
"He'll do it!"
Bria squealed, and when he tilted his head towards hers it seemed the most natural thing in the world to put a hand behind his head and kiss him.
Their lips stayed locked in a passionate kiss, Jerome's hand briefly leaving her leg to cup her breasts a moment, before returning to mid-thigh. Bria's hand lifted in reaction, fluttering back down to his leg when his hand returned to the warm spot on her leg.
Jerome's tongue teased hers for a second more, his teeth tugged lightly on her lips as they pulled apart.
He turned away, cocking his head to listen to the phone. "Hey yeah. You're right. It is kind of a cheap part of town. And with that men's shelter next door...." he trailed off.
Bria's hand clasped his wrist and she leaned in toward him intently, eyes worried. Jerome stroked her thigh a little higher, at the hem of her mini, pulled taught by her legs, parted as if in invitation. Her mirroring gesture touched the very end of his very hard and long package. She blinked, staring down at it, hardly noticing as he spoke to her.
"Big says if he leaves your stuff outside it'll probably get stolen."
Bria tore her eyes away from the tube-shaped form her hand now touched.
"He's asking if he can go in your apartment, leave the stuff there."
Bria started to raise her hand, but Jerome brought the hand with the phone down to squeeze her hand, inadvertently pressing it harder and higher against his manhood.
"He says he's afraid that if he leaves it out someone will steal your keys. Those guys there, those poor filthy black bastards would love to break into your place. They'd look at you and start thinking about fucking you."
"They'd look at you and see a hot fuckable piece of white trash meat. Just some cheap slut, a skanky whore to be fucked over and over. Hell, they'd break into your place while you slept, rape you silly every night. You'd get used by every homeless guy, every giant black cock on the block."
"In you mouth," he nipped her lips, moving his hand above her hemline. She licked her lips.
"In your ass," he let go of her hand, moving his own to her ass. She lifted it from the chair, flexing it in his clutching hand.
Her breathing was getting faster and faster, her eyes glistening as she breathed harder and harder.
"In your cunt." he finished with a whisper, his breath trailing across her lips. She moaned throatily, eyes closing, hand kneading and rub his cock, up and down.
'Let 'em in," she whispered, or maybe her husky voice had said 'let him in'
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