Coach Trip

"I'd have no idea," I pointed out. "Unlikely as it seems, you could still be a virgin for all I know. Actually, now that I think about it you probably are. That's why you came traipsing into a man's bedroom in see through clothes. You have no idea what it's all about."

"These clothes are not see-through and I'm not a virgin and I'm nearly twenty, not that it's any of your business."

Christine was plainly narked now.

"Christine, I can see your fur and your areola and your nipples are so obvious that they're practically poking me in the eye. That counts as see-though as far as I'm concerned. Virgin or not is, as you said, none of my business. You just keep playing with your toy-boys.

However, the subject under discussion wasn't your sexual immaturity but your behaviour on the bus. Have you anything to say?"

"You damn well would want to rape me if I let you pull down my pants to spank me," Christine snapped. "What makes you'd think I'd let you spank me anyway."

"It's not a case of letting," I pointed out. "If I choose to spank you, you don't get much say in the matter. As for being carried away by lust as soon as I see your naked bottom, might I point out the see-through outfit and how nobly I'm resisting the effort to ravish you?"

I yawned to indicate how little I cared.

"I am adequately dressed. You're a man. Of course you'd have to try it on if you saw me naked. Any man would. Unless you're queer."

"I'll tell you what. You just take off those things you call clothes and watch how fast I don't try to jump you," I said, sounding bored about the whole thing. "While you're doing that you can decide which option I should go for. With you naked I'll be even more inclined to go for option three. Give you a good preventive spanking before we even get on the bus."

"You needn't think I'm getting undressed just to prove a point," Christine snapped. "I'm just going to ignore you and get on the bus and go home with everyone else."

"Didn't think you'd have the nerve to," I murmured. "Even see-through is better than nude with a mature man actually looking you over and then turning you down. So you want option one. You'll get on the bus and behave."

"You wouldn't turn me down," snapped Christine. "You'd probably jump me right away. And yes, I'll behave on the bus."

"You do keep harping on that," I murmured. "Anyone would think you wanted to be ravished. Is that why you came over dressed like that?"

From the guilty look that flashed across her face I'd say it was.

"Well, all that aside, you'll behave on the bus or take the consequences and they'll be very painful and embarrassing consequences. Do we have an agreement?"

Sullenly Christine nodded.

"OK. One last thing before you go. You had absolutely no right to come into my unit at this time of the morning dressed like that. You were deliberately making mischief. You really need to learn that actions have consequences. Now go and bend over the bed for a few moments."

Christine just stared at me, her face blank. I sighed.

"You. The bed. Bend over. Me. Spank your rude little bottom to try and impress a sense of wrong doing into you. Now move."

Christine's face was a study. She didn't know whether to do a runner or to do as she was told. I wasn't giving her any help. I just stood there waiting with a look of mild interest on my face.

She capitulated. I had thought she would. I suspected that she'd come over to my unit with the firm intention of losing her clothes and seeing what developed.

Christine bent over the bed and looked back at me nervously, wondering what was going to happen. I didn't hurry. I just moved casually to stand beside her. That flimsy thing that she considered to be a dressing gown had to go. It drifted all over the place with the slightest breeze. I did not want to get my hand tangled in it. I'd probably rip it to shreds.

"Those flimsy things you're wearing are just going to get in the way. It appears that you'd better take them off after all."

"But then you'll want to rape me," Christine protested.

"Not going to happen," I told her. "Now get those things off."

It didn't take long. A shrug and the dressing gown, so called, just floated off. The baby doll pyjamas only lasted seconds and she had no underwear (which I had already noticed).

"Before you bend back over, turn around," I ordered.

Christine did so, turning to face me. I twirled a finger indicating she should turn right around and she did. Her face was an interesting shade of red. Part anger, part embarrassment, I think.

"OK. That's enough. You can bend over now," I told her, "but it's most odd."

"What's odd?" demanded Christine.

"Oh, you've been nude for almost a minute now and I haven't pounced on you and started ravishing you. Do you suppose that means I'm not a real man?" I asked affably.

Christine's reply was quite unprintable. It's shocking, the language some of the women use today.

"Now I'm quite sure you don't want to spend several hours sitting on a bus with a hot sore bottom, so I'm going to just vary the way I spank you slightly."

Christine didn't say anything but I could feel her almost vibrating with curiosity. I moved up to stand beside her, positioned myself carefully and delivered the first spank. It was quite a good one. It cupped her pussy smartly and noisily. The spank of hand on pussy was only a little bit of the noise. The majority was Christine squealing a protest.

I ignored her protest. If you're delivering a spanking you don't stop just because the offender decides they don't want it. I gave Christine a very rapid pussy spanking, short sharp blows raising havoc with her pussy and her peace of mind.

Christine squealed and protested and squirmed about, but she also stayed right there without me having to hold her in place. Her tender young pussy was rapidly flushing and flowering, and I suspected it was also starting to splash slightly when I smacked it.

It didn't take long and her squeals were changing into gasps of pleasure and it wasn't much longer and I could see Christine was approaching a climax. So I called it quits.

"OK, Christine," I said standing back. "I'll let it go at that and I hope you've learned something from this."

Apart from turning her head to look at me Christine didn't budge. She just gave me an absolutely appalled look, mouth working as she tried to think of something to say.

"I said that's it, Christine. You're free to get dressed again."

"You can't. You can't leave me like this," she protested. "Bastard. Finish it."

"Finish what?" I asked innocently, looking puzzled, and for a moment I thought Christine was going to froth at the mouth she was so mad.

Then she seemed to snap out of it and laughed.

"OK. Will you please fuck me and show me what a mature adult can do for me sexually," she said, smiling sweetly.

I smiled at her. "Thought you'd never ask."

By an odd coincidence my erection was already up and eager for work, so I just stepped up behind Christine and drove into her with a single swift motion. She just gave a groan of relief and shuddered slightly.

It didn't take me long to bring her to the point she had reached when I stopped spanking her pussy. Half a dozen firm strokes and she was there, looking forward to the climax that was about to descend on her.

Too bad that wasn't what I had in mind. I adjusted my strokes slightly and proceeded to hold her at that point. I wasn't moving fast enough to push her over the edge or slow enough to bring her down. I just kept her balanced on a fine line.

For the first minute, Christine was ecstatic, expecting every second to tip over the edge. For the second minute, she was suspicious, urging me to hurry up and take her harder.

The third minute rolled up and Christine was getting desperate, starting to babble and plead for release. I have to admit I was feeling the pressure myself by that stage.

The fourth minute passed with Christine squealing and cursing me, begging me to stop torturing her and when we were into the fifth minute she been reduced to a wailing plea for release.

I was somewhat of the same feeling. My cock felt as though it would explode if I didn't do something soon. So I squeezed Christine's breasts hard and went for broke. I drove in hard and Christine gave a squeal and succumbed at the first really powerful stroke. She gasped and came apart under me while I held her tight and released my seed deep within her.

For the trip home I arranged for Wendy to sit at the back of the bus. That way the girls would know she was there and watching and would be less likely to act up too dramatically. I pointed out that this meant I could stick Christine in the guide's chair at the front and keep a closer eye on her.

(It also meant that Wendy and Christine were far apart and not likely to talk to each other. Just a bonus, I assure you. It's not as though I was intending to keep them apart.)

Altogether, an interesting trip, but it did leave me wondering just what my drivers got up to on these overnight excursions.