Forbidden Places: The Bus Driver

By Vanessa Salt

"I push my bum backwards, helping his finger enter me. My entire pussy – and ass – is one blazing hot inferno which simply craves him. I feel my pulse throbbing in my thighs and my calves. I giggle and sigh."Answer me," Emeka commands, as his finger starts to move back and forth. Oh! It feels wonderful. If only I could feel his cock as well."A dull Economics student, who always behaves decently and focuses on her studies, suddenly finds herself feeling very adventurous and aroused by the sexy bus driver. How is she going to seduce him?This is an exciting erotic short story, which challenges the boundaries of sexual space. -

• Language: English
• Publisher: LUST
• Release date: Dec 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9788726304909

Book preview

Vanessa Salt

Forbidden Places: The Bus Driver

Translated By: Martin Reib Petersen

Lust

Forbidden Places: The Bus Driver

Original title

Martin Reib Petersen

Translated by

Förbjudna platser: Busschauffören

Copyright © 2018, 2019 Vanessa Salt and LUST

All rights reserved

ISBN: 9788726304909

1. e-book edition, 2019

Format: EPUB 2.0

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrievial system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor, be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Darkness has already fallen on the city of Uppsala. I can barely remember the last time I saw daylight. Early mornings and late evenings. Those are the conditions when you study Economics. And when you want to be the best. It’s late October, and in places you can make out the autumn colours of the leaves that remain on the trees. I shiver and wrap my cardigan tighter around my body, trying to get it to cover both my neck and my chest. Everything would have been easier if I had worn something more sensible, but I couldn’t do that today. Absolutely not. Because this is a special day.

Ugh! a girl next to me exasperatedly sighs. When will that damn bus come along?

Her friend stomps her feet to keep warm. It’s always late.

I don’t have any friends from class who are going the same way I am. After the Economy classes we usually sit together and study, prepare for the classes the next day, or get ready for a test. But when the time draws near for the last bus to be leaving, we have to go our separate ways, and I end up sitting alone in the small bus shelter. Always alone. But I like it. I like examining my surroundings, the lights of the passing cars, the faces under knitted caps or hoods, the shiny wet asphalt.

And the bus. And more than anything else, the bus driver.

He is something