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Chapter 6 by lifesfun lifesfun

Coffee Shop? Or Home?

Home

Against whatever better judgement you'd woken up with, you decided to meet at her house.

"I'll just meet you at your house, and we can walk from there."

"Great! Here's my address, see you soon cute stuff."

You quickly threw on whatever clothes you could find at the top of your laundry hamper, as you really had no desire to dress for the occasion. A pair of basketball shorts and a normal v-neck would have to do for Susan, it seemed. Sniffling profusely, you pulled your phone out and mapped the directions on your phone, before setting off.

It was slightly overcast out, with a cool breeze that accentuated the sweat on your forehead. As you waited at the bus stop, your phone pinged with more messages from Susan.

"Excited to meet you. Just knock three times when you get here and I'll know it's you." She attached a selfie below of her in a floral sundress. Her body type indicator on her profile may have been a little exaggerated, as she looked about 35lbs heavier than what she'd stated. Even then, her masssive breasts were poorly confined in her outfit, with that same nondescript stare prodding you from behind your screen. Aside from the fact that she looked big, you couldn't really tell much else from the photo other than the fact that she was very eager to meet you.

Finally, the bus arrived. The buswoman, a warm and well-built figure, opened the doors for you.

"Where to?" The driver asked, cracking a cheeky smile and eyeing you up and down.

"Just downtown, near the city hall."

"Normally it'd cost a few bucks, but give me a twirl and I'll let you ride for free."

Rolling your eyes, you fished three dollars out of your wallet and put them onto the tray next to the driver.

"Damn, sweetie. Guess it's not my lucky day, huh?"

Cracking a wry smile, you made your way to the back of the bus as the driver continued her route. Even for a wealthy city like yours, you could tell these vehicles have taken a beating in the last few years. Mysterious stains on the sides of the seats, scratches on the leather fabric, and flashy writing scribbled on the sides of the windows accentuated the fact that this was, in fact, the right city bus.

A fair few unremarkable characters twiddled about on the bus, before a tall, stocky, drunk woman scampered on, giving you a quizzical, yet thousand-yard look before standing in front of you and holding onto the bus rail. Her long brown hair was tied up into a dirty bun, and her jacket and part of her yoga pants looked soaked in what looked like liquor, and was confirmed by the smell; **** and sweat stung your nostrils, but you looked down, trying to avoid any contact. Still trying to ignore her ramblings, you scrolled through more messages on your phone; offers of being a sugar baby, dick pics, and what even looked like old teachers pleading for some roleplay had permeated your screen.

The bus stopped suddenly, underscored by a flurry of insults from the bus driver swearing at a car that had cut her off; but more importantly, you found the drunken woman pressed up against your face. Instead of quickly retreating, she seemed to enjoy it, pressing her fat ass into your nose and moaning. The sweat smell again struck your nostrils, as you recoiled from her attempts of motorboating your face. Taking matters into your own hands, you pushed away from her, offering a meek 'sorry'. She turned around and looked down at you before muttering a barely comprehensible, 'don't worry about it'; she looked to be in her mid thirties - and not too bad looking, but the smell of **** on her breath assaulted your nose at every one of her words. Continuing to look down at your phone, you noticed that she hadn't turned back around, instead opting to face you and show an ever-growing, massive hardon, whilst continuing to hold on to the top rail. Every bump of the bus ride seemed to inch her closer to you, until she bumped into your face with her crotch. "Oopsiee! Sorry!" She giggled, as she gyrated her hips into you, smearing your face with the thinly stretched fabric of her pants.

Putting on your best face of disgust, you moved one seat down, and stared at the maps on your phone; only one more stop to go. With the drunken woman now browsing her own phone, probably looking for you on dating apps, you managed to make it to Susan's house without any other *ahem* hiccups. Walking up to her house, it seemed to espouse the same type of atmosphere you'd assumed she had. A similarly nondescript, city style house stared at you, almost eerily quiet. The overcast weather had not gone away, and you felt the pale sunlight reverberate off of your face as your ears rang from the nerves. Walking up the steps, you could've sworn you saw one of the curtains move, but regardless, you prepared to knock.

Three times?

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