She was on the bus, she caught my eye, and I felt I had seen her before. She oozed sensuality, that was what I thought when I saw her, the truth was I was captivated, my eyes couldn’t leave her, it was more than just sex, it was Cleopatra, Helen of Troy, Eve, Wallis Simpson; a woman that men left their minds for; then it was too late. There she was sitting on my bus.
The wonderful thing about it was that not only did I recognize her for what she was; the added bonus was the reactions of the people around me. As I said, she oozed sensuality, I was sitting on the low side of the bus, she was sitting in the seat above me, I could see up the bus to the sky outside, but my sight was not on the weather, my mind was on the sight sprawled in front of me. She, for that was what she was; She was sitting in front of me, she had small breasts, a skirt that stopped at mid thigh, a blouse, her body was all elbows and valleys, skin and sensuality, just waiting for the next bus stop so she could alight, this woman was totally unaware of the ruckus she was causing and the chaos that was happening.
From where I was sitting I could see the top of her stockings under her skirt and the lace of her suspender belt, at first glance, it made my nostrils flare and my pussy drip, the shadow of her white panties under them made me shudder with pleasure; hey I’m used to that, but it made me aware of the people around me. I noticed the, I imagine, discomfort, of the twenty year old student who was staring at our ‘Helen of Troy’, his penis seemed to be beckoning him, he kept squirming, and trying to adjust his back pack on his lap.
My suited neighbour had no such qualms; he spread his legs subtly, adjusted his cock, admired the view and gave me a smile. We were brothers in arms. The suited one pressed the stop bell for the bus, as he stood up to leave, he leant into my side and whispered in my ear; “Forbidden Fruit” I nodded in agreement and watched our Helen move out of the bus.
I watched her from the window of the bus, watched her alight and move into the arms of a man. I smiled and went onto the rest of my evening. I saw our ‘Forbidden Fruit’ a couple more times that month, each time with different men, and then once with an elderly lady with a cane in our suburb, it made me happy that she had people around her, though it was of course not my business.
I had been invited to a friends’ house for dinner, I dutifully appeared, knocked on the door and was almost knocked over by 'Forbidden Fruit’ as she walked down the drive way. I opened the bottle of red and probed deeper. ‘Yes’, my girlfriend said, ‘yes’ she lives with her mother, and yes she has problems with men, they are all married or unsuitable’. ‘Or mesmerized’, I thought. I was happy to have seen “Forbidden Fruit’ again, happy for her that she had friends and family, regardless of how unsuitable they may seem and carried on, on my merry way.
My life moved on, I had a husband, children, and a lover. I worked in a bookshop, my colleagues would laugh at me, when customers would come into the store and would only want to be served by me. I smiled; sometimes there would be a queue of people waiting. To be fair, they sometimes would become a bit ratty, as I was serving a customer and they would have to wait for my full attention; they hadn’t realized that I treated lots of customers in the same manner that I treated them, and that I wasn’t their ‘one and only’.
‘I’m Blonde and Variety’, I’d call myself. I knew how to make people feel good, and if they bought books from me that was a bonus. I was new, interesting, knew about books and variety from their wives, these men would bring their sons and friends to meet me, proudly introducing me as their personal bookseller. Who was I to prick their fantasy? I received chocolates, wine and the offer of cock, home made baking and pussy, some I would accept, and some I would reject, very gently, never the baking I might add; I’m not stupid. I would text my lover, teasing him with my offers, listening to his thoughts on women, his career, and how we would use the toys we had bought for next we met.
I told him about my latest conquest, a man, who had taken me to lunch, I knew about his partner, children, house he was building, in fact I had heard each story three times. I told my lover that I was going to tell the lunch boy, that I was not going to have sex with him, or an affair, and that I was going to send ‘Lunch Boy’ back to his wife, his infatuation will pass and there will be another blonde, mid forties woman, who will take his fancy. My lover retorted with; ‘That’s rubbish, he wants to bang you badly, come on.’ Gotta say, I always like a man’s view on things. Then he told me, ‘I should be nice to Lunch Boy and let him eat my pussy.’ I suggested that he find a blonde, an anal plug, red wine, and his fine cock, all for me to play with, which is what I prefer.
I was driving home and thinking about what my lover had suggested, when I received a text. ‘They know you offer more and can sense it, like the forbidden fruits that’s you’. I tasted the idea on my tongue, Forbidden Fruits, I liked it. I texted back saying that I took the forbidden fruits idea as a compliment whether he meant it or not! He answered, ‘It was, of course, you’re the thing they can’t have, but want to taste.’
Ah Forbidden Fruits; my pussy was dripping, my nipples aroused with the thought, I was happy to take the crown of ‘Forbidden Fruits’ and wear it’ It had been worn by Helen of Troy, Wallis Simpson, and my girl on the bus, I was happy to receive my turn.
