Last Girl on the Bus

Rebecca sat bored near the front of the empty school bus, thumb scrolling endlessly across her phone screen. The last of the other students had piled off three stops ago. Living furthest out meant she always rode alone with the driver for the final stretch, and most days that suited her fine. No more listening to the idiots from her senior class yapping about parties or the cheer squad drama she already knew too well. She was eighteen now, had been since March, and graduation couldn’t come soon enough. College applications were already in. Real life was waiting.

She locked the phone and shoved it into the pocket of her short plaid skirt. The sweater she wore was oversized, the kind that swallowed her modest B-cups and made her look younger than she was, but the skirt rode high on her thighs the way the cheer coach preferred. Long, pale legs crossed at the knee, smooth from the morning’s careful shaving. Freckles dusted the bridge of her nose. Brunette hair pulled back in a tight ponytail that swung whenever she turned her head. Hazel eyes that usually cut people down with a glance were half-lidded with boredom.

In the driver’s seat Steve watched her in the rearview. Thick fingers tightened on the wheel. This route was still new to him—high school kids instead of the regular city runs—but he’d had months to learn the passengers. Most were harmless. This one had been a thorn from day one. Bratty little cheerleader who thought the world owed her the captain spot she never got. He’d overheard enough of her bitching to know she believed she was better than everyone on the bus, including him.

She was pretty though. Soft face that belonged on someone sweet, not the sharp-tongued little princess who spent every ride tearing into her teammates. Full lips shiny with gloss. Fair skin. Those long legs that kept drawing his eyes every time she shifted. He’d angled the cabin mirror lower weeks ago so he could watch the way her thighs pressed together. Today the skirt had ridden high enough that he could almost see the edge of her panties.

His cock thickened against the zipper of his work pants. Eight thick inches that had been starved of anything but his own fist for too long. He was forty-two, still built like the soldier he’d been before the discharge—broad chest, heavy arms, a little softness at the gut from age but nothing that stopped him from benching more than most men half his age. Short military cut. Cold blue eyes that had seen enough shit to know exactly how to handle a mouthy girl who needed putting in her place.

Traffic thinned. Steve made the decision without further thought. Instead of staying on the regular route he turned down a side road that led to an abandoned industrial lot behind a row of empty warehouses. No cameras. No traffic. Just cracked asphalt and the late-afternoon sun slanting through the trees.

The bus rolled to a stop. Engine died.

Rebecca blinked and looked up. “What the fuck? This isn’t my stop.”

Steve stood, the seat creaking under his weight. He walked down the aisle with slow, deliberate steps. The tent in his pants was obvious now, thick shaft pushing hard against the fabric. Rebecca’s eyes dropped to it before she could stop herself. Color flooded her cheeks.

“I didn’t forget about you, darlin’,” he said. Voice low, calm, the kind that didn’t need to raise volume to be obeyed.

She slid toward the aisle, already opening her mouth for another insult. The words died when he stopped in front of her and she found herself staring at the outline of his cock. Heat crawled up her neck. She forced her gaze up to his face—hard jaw, those cold blue eyes—and hated that her stomach fluttered.

“You’re such a pretty girl,” Steve said. He reached out and trailed two thick fingers down her cheek. “Shame that smart mouth of yours has been running all year.”

Rebecca jerked away. “Don’t touch me. Just drive me home or I’ll—”

His hand rose like he might backhand her. She flinched hard. He didn’t connect. Just let the threat hang.

“Please don’t hit me,” she whispered, the bratty edge cracking.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you as long as you do what I say.” He unbuckled his belt, unzipped, and pulled his cock free. Heavy, thick, the head already glistening. Veins stood out along the shaft. Balls hung full and tight beneath. Rebecca’s eyes widened. She’d sucked a couple of boys from the football team, but nothing like this. Her mouth watered before she could stop it.

Steve’s hand settled on the back of her head, fingers tightening in her ponytail. “You’re gonna wrap that nasty little mouth around my cock and suck until I’m satisfied.”

“Then will you take me home?”

“Soon as we’re done.”

She leaned in. The thick head pressed against her glossy lips. She opened and took him inside. Salt and skin and pure male musk flooded her tongue. Steve groaned deep in his chest and rolled his hips, feeding more of his length into the wet heat of her mouth.

“Suck it. Use your tongue. That’s it… just like that.”

Rebecca’s cheeks hollowed. She worked him with the same spiteful focus she gave everything else, but her body betrayed her. Heat bloomed between her legs. Her panties grew damp. She shifted on the seat, thighs pressing together, and the friction only made it worse.

Steve noticed. He smirked down at her. “Enjoying yourself already?”

She made a muffled sound of protest around his cock. He only fucked her mouth deeper, the head bumping the back of her throat. She gagged, eyes watering, but the sound vibrated straight through his shaft and he cursed under his breath.

“Take your underwear off.”

Rebecca’s eyes flew wide. She hesitated. His grip in her hair tightened.

“Don’t make me ask twice.”

She reached under the short skirt, hooked her thumbs in the sides of her plain white panties, and dragged them down her thighs. They dropped to the floor of the bus. Cool air kissed her freshly shaved pussy. She was soaked—slick folds already shiny with her own juices.

“Touch yourself,” Steve ordered, resuming the slow thrusts into her mouth. “I want to watch that greedy little cunt while you suck me.”

Her fingers slid between her thighs. She was wetter than she’d ever been. Two fingers parted her folds and found her swollen clit. Circles. Pressure. A moan vibrated around his cock. Steve’s hips snapped harder, using her throat, watching her fingers work.

Rebecca came first. The orgasm hit hard and sudden, thighs trembling, hips jerking against her own hand. She cried out around the thick cock stretching her lips, spit running down her chin. Steve pulled free with a wet pop and let her gasp for air. Her face was wrecked—flushed, eyes glassy, lip gloss smeared.

He didn’t give her time to recover. Strong hands hauled her up and turned her around, knees on the edge of the seat, hands braced on the backrest. The short skirt flipped up over her ass. Her bare, dripping pussy was on full display—pink, puffy, virgin-tight.

Steve stepped behind her and dragged the fat head of his cock through her folds, smearing her wetness up over her clit and back down to her entrance. Rebecca moaned despite herself.

“I thought you just wanted a blowjob,” she managed, voice shaky.

“That was before you started getting off on it.” He notched the head against her opening. “Now this cunt needs fucking.”

“Wait—condom—”

“Don’t got one.”

He pushed. The thick head stretched her open, forcing her walls wide. Rebecca’s breath caught. She was tight—impossibly tight—and the burn of the stretch made her eyes water. Steve kept pressing until he met the thin barrier of her hymen.

“Pull out before you cum,” she begged.

“If you remind me.”

He snapped his hips forward. The head tore through her virginity in one brutal thrust. Rebecca screamed—sharp, high, the sound bouncing off the empty seats. Pain flared deep inside her, white-hot, as eight thick inches buried themselves to the root. Her inner walls clamped down hard around the invasion. Steve groaned like a man in heaven and held still, letting her adjust while her pussy fluttered and bled around him.

“Fuck… so goddamn tight. Virgin cunt. Knew it.”

Tears slipped down Rebecca’s cheeks. She tried to pull forward but his hands locked on her hips and dragged her back onto every inch. The pain slowly bled into something hotter. Every micro-movement dragged against her inner walls. Her clit throbbed. Juice and a thin streak of blood slicked his shaft.

Steve started to fuck her.

Hard, deep strokes that slapped his heavy balls against her clit with every thrust. The wet sound of her freshly fucked pussy filled the bus—obscene, rhythmic, filthy. Rebecca’s moans turned from pain to confusion to raw need. She pushed back to meet him, ass bouncing, ponytail swinging.

“That’s it,” Steve growled. “Take it. Take every fucking inch like the little slut you are.”

“I’m not—ah—fuck—”

“Your cunt says otherwise. Dripping all over my cock. Clenching like it wants to milk me dry.”

He reached around and found her clit, rubbing tight circles while he pounded her. Rebecca shattered again. Her second orgasm ripped through her harder than the first, pussy spasming, juices gushing down her thighs and onto the seat. Steve didn’t stop. He fucked her through it, using her clenching walls for his own pleasure, chasing the edge.

When he finally pulled out she whimpered at the sudden emptiness. Thick ropes of pre-cum and her own cream stretched between the head of his cock and her gaping, well-fucked hole. He flipped her onto her back across the seat, shoved her sweater up to bare her small tits, and sank back inside in one smooth thrust.

Face to face now. Her legs hooked over his arms. He fucked her slow and deep, grinding the head against her cervix with every stroke. Rebecca’s hazel eyes were glassy. Her mouth hung open. Soft, broken sounds spilled out every time he bottomed out.

“Gonna fill this pussy,” he told her. “Gonna breed this bratty little cheerleader cunt so you remember who owns it.”

“No—pull out—”

“Too late for that.”

He sped up. The wet slap of skin on skin grew louder. Rebecca’s third orgasm crashed over her without warning. Her back arched, nails digging into his shoulders through the uniform shirt, cunt locking down like a vice. Steve buried himself to the hilt and unloaded.

Hot, thick ropes of cum blasted against her cervix. Pulse after pulse, heavy loads flooding her fertile womb. He kept grinding through it, forcing every drop as deep as it could go. Rebecca felt the heat of it, the way her walls milked him, the way her body betrayed her by fluttering greedily around the spurting cock.

When he finally stilled, both of them were panting. Cum already started to leak out around his still-hard shaft, mixing with her juices and the faint pink of her virgin blood. He stayed inside her, softening only slightly, and brushed a thumb across her swollen lower lip.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Took that cock like you were made for it.”

Rebecca’s eyes fluttered. Shame and residual pleasure warred across her face. Her pussy gave another involuntary squeeze around him.

Steve smiled, slow and dark. He wasn’t finished. Not even close.

He pulled out just long enough to flip her onto her stomach again, knees spread wide on the seat, face pressed to the vinyl. Cum poured from her well-used hole in a thick white rivulet that ran down her inner thigh. Steve gathered it on two fingers and pushed it back inside her, then lined up and sank every inch home again.

Rebecca moaned into the seat. Her body was oversensitive, every nerve lit up, but she pushed back anyway. Steve fucked her slower this time—long, deliberate strokes that dragged along her front wall and made her thighs shake. One hand reached under her to play with her clit. The other fisted her ponytail and used it as a handle, arching her back so he could watch his cock disappear into her cum-filled cunt over and over.

“Look at that pretty little hole,” he growled. “Stretched around me. Creaming all over my dick. You love this, don’t you? Love getting fucked raw by the bus driver like a cheap whore.”

“Yes,” she sobbed, the word torn out of her. “Fuck—yes—”

He rewarded her honesty by slamming harder. The bus rocked slightly with the force of his thrusts. Rebecca came again, weaker this time but no less intense, cunt fluttering and squeezing another load of cream onto his shaft. Steve followed her over the edge with a guttural groan, flooding her a second time. Fresh cum mixed with the first load until it was dripping steadily onto the seat beneath them.

He stayed buried deep while their breathing slowed. One big hand stroked down her spine, almost gentle. Rebecca’s body trembled under him. Her mind was a mess of conflicting signals—shame, confusion, the lingering high of multiple orgasms, the hot throb of being so thoroughly filled.

Steve finally pulled out. A thick gush of combined cum followed, painting her thighs and the seat. He tucked himself away just enough to be decent, then helped her sit up. Her panties were still on the floor. He left them there. The short skirt did nothing to hide the mess between her legs.

“Next time you ride this bus,” he said quietly, wiping a smear of cum from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, “you sit right up front where I can see you. And you keep that pussy bare under the skirt. Understand?”