Time for a facial

As the bus driver's excitement reached a fever pitch, he suddenly pulled his cock from your throat, the smooth skin gliding effortlessly out of your mouth. You felt a rush of cool air on your tongue, a stark contrast to the warmth of his shaft. With a low, rumbling growl, he began to stroke his cock, his hand moving in rapid, jerky motions. You could feel the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing and relaxing in a rhythmic motion. The veins on his cock bulged beneath the surface, and you could see the cum rising to the tip.

The air was thick with tension as the bus driver's body tensed, his muscles straining with effort. His hand moved faster, the strokes becoming shorter and more urgent. You could feel the warm air from his mouth on your face, and the scent of his sweat and semen filled your senses.

Your hands slid down the bus driver's thighs, the warmth of his skin radiating up to your fingertips. You gently cupped his black testicles, feeling the weight of them in your palms. The bus driver's eyes snapped back into focus, his gaze locking onto yours as you leaned forward, your mouth opening to take his sac into your mouth. The smooth skin of his nuts glided effortlessly across your tongue, the salty taste of his sweat exploding on your taste buds.

As you sucked gently on his nuts, the bus driver's hand slowed, his strokes becoming longer and more deliberate. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you crackling with tension.

As your nose was buried in his nut sac, the sweet, musky aroma wafted up, teasing your senses and drawing you in deeper. The bus driver's body began to shudder, his hand tightened around his cock, and he pressed you deeper into his nuts. The warmth of his skin enveloped your face fully when you began to feel the spraying of cum.

As the first droplets of cum hit your face, the pungent aroma exploded in your nostrils, a heady mix of musk and salt that made your senses reel. The warm liquid splattered across your cheeks, forehead, and nose, leaving a sticky film that glistened in the dim light of the bus. You felt the cum dripping down your chin, forming a slow-moving rivulet that trickled onto your tongue, where it mingled with the lingering taste of the bus driver's sweat and skin.

The taste was overpowering, a rich, earthy flavor that coated your tongue and the roof of your mouth.

As the last droplets of cum dripped from the bus driver's cock, you began to scoop the warm liquid from your face, your fingers tracing the curves of your cheeks and forehead. The bus driver's eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with intensity as he watched you collect the cum on your fingertips. A slow smile spread across his face, his lips curling upwards in a mixture of satisfaction and arousal.

Your fingers danced across your skin, gathering the cum into a small pool on your chin. You brought your fingers to your mouth, and the bus driver's eyes followed the movement, his pupils dilating with excitement. You sucked the cum from your fingers, the salty taste exploding on your tongue once more.

You told him, "It tastes so good," as you moved your head towards his cock, your tongue darting out to lick the remaining cum from his shaft. The taste was intoxicating, and you couldn't get enough of it. You savored every drop, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, collecting the sticky remnants of his orgasm.

The bus driver's grip on his cock loosened as you took over, his hand falling to his side as he watched you intently. Your hands wrapped around his shaft, your fingers tracing the veins that bulged beneath the surface.

The bus driver's eyes remained fixed on you, his gaze burning with intensity, as his radio suddenly crackled to life. The voice on the other end was distorted, but the words were clear: "Bus 147, this is dispatch. What's your status? You're running behind schedule." The bus driver's expression changed, his face contorting in a mixture of frustration and annoyance. He groaned, his chest rising and falling with the sound, as he reached for the radio microphone.

"Dispatch, this is 147," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "I was having some... passenger trouble. But it's okay now. It worked itself out," the bus driver's voice crackled through the radio, he pulled his cock out of your mouth with a pop, the sudden release of suction creating a faint echo in the air. You felt a slight pang of disappointment as his warm flesh left your lips, but your gaze remained fixed on his retreating form as he lumbered back to his driver's chair. The vinyl creaked in protest as he settled into the seat, his movements slow and deliberate.

With a flick of his wrist, the bus lurched forward, the wheels rolling smoothly over the asphalt as the vehicle picked up speed.

As you settled back into your seat, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over you. The taste of the bus driver's cum still lingered on your tongue, and you savored the memory of the encounter. You glanced up, catching the bus driver's eye through the rearview mirror. For a moment, you just stared at each other, the tension between you palpable. He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, before returning his gaze to the road.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you realized he was still watching you, his eyes darting back to the mirror every few seconds. You smiled to yourself, knowing you had his attention.