Читать книгу Bus Driver - Coward Huntington - Страница 2

“Somehow - It all finally seems to be over,” Andrew thought to himself as he took his last mouthful of sea air. Something in his stomach swum, his phone buzzed in his pocket,

three sharp rings. He had yet to open it, his cock was already throbbing so hard that he

was worried it might snap in two.

“Stop it Lucas,” he said aloud.

He squeezed his suitcase, holding it safely over his lap feeling the sharp plastic corners

tickle his soft tip. Sitting so alone in the Lubmin bus terminal it was almost too obvious that he was trying to hide something. Noone sits a large travellers suitcase on their lap, least of all when the Bus was already putting away in front of them. It was so large and empty, waiting for the clock to hit exactly 8:15, the gasoline stealing the last of the morning frost.

He was the only passenger in wait, perhaps the only person in the bus terminal at all.

Aside from the Bus Driver, who leaned over in the corner of his vision, smiling intermittently and checking the wheels. Without the Bus Driver and his steely blue eyes, he would have felt like he was the only person in the world.

Over the last few months spent in the confines of his hotel room he had become used to

being alone. He had enjoyed only his small bed, a desk, and his window with the view of

the Seebrücke, he had paid extra for the latter, quite a modest amount for a student at

least. It was for the longest time, his only portal into another world, the world outside his

room, as far as he could see without the pier itself Andrew may as well have been lost at

sea. The hotel was empty, most of the patrons had cancelled their trips as soon as the

news had spread. If Andrew had planned it all just a week later he would have done the

same. He hadn't come to Lubmin for the sights after all, as nice as Seebrücke was, he

had only come for the quiet, away from Lucas and the constant parties and the early

morning impromptu Grindr threesomes, with the downstairs neighbour, fun for sure – but

not a conducive atmosphere for study.

That's what he had thought anyway. At some point during his quarantine Andrew had

literally prayed. He had just masturbated for the third time, when Lucas was asleep he

would take to re-reading the Whatsapp messages, trying to pretend they were happening

in real time. A few days before,when the words became stale and hollow, devoid of

feasible spontaneity, he had begged Lucas, “Please, next time you fuck the Neighbour, I want to see it.”

Lucas had resisted at first, it was against the rules, Andrew’s rules specifically, they had

spent far too long deciding them for him to give it up easily. Finally, he had given in, and

Andrew had cum to it three times, in a row. On the fourth try he had stopped, rewinding

back and forth, trying to find the perfect angle of the Neighbour’s stiff red cock slowly

foraging through the dark tangle of hair around and Lucas puckered asshole, Andrew

had lost his breath, lost his nerve. His fingers trembled around the base of his balls,

watching his thick dick bobbing in the moonlight, that's when he had decided to pray.

In a mad uncertain rush, he had removed his clothing. He leaned out over the open

window and felt the sand hiss against his smooth skin, he erected a cigarette upright on

the windowsill.

“God” He said, searching for the depth in his voice, “Buddah, Vishnu, Poseidon,

Whatever the fuck, I will do anything, I mean anything, take my soul or my eyes or

whatever way you want to punish me, but please. Please! Let me cum with someone else,

I don't care, I don't care. Just make it happen, I'm fucking begging you!”

He blew it out, softly, staring out at the murky blue waves, feeling his words lost

between their jaws, swallowed in vain. Soon he had washed his face, laughed to himself

and fallen into a deep sleep.

Strangely enough, when he awoke the next morning he saw an unfamiliar shape dotting

the horizon. Through the fine white sand, stained by purple morning light, a naked man

walked toward Seebrücke. Andrew rushed to the window, brushing sleep from his

eyes, from a distance he could see the curves of his back, rippling as he made his way

slowly toward the water. The man stretched out, his rippling arms pinning back, tuning to

reveal his tanned cock, Andrew could see it from so far away, long thick and plump,

swinging ever so slightly between his legs. He felt his hand slither around his own, the

blood had begun to throb within it, scraping up against the smooth wood of the wall. It

seemed to beg to him somehow, screaming for contact. Blue veins sprung as it rose

higher and higher. Andrew felt his hands tickle the tops of his thighs. It was so hard to see, but so easy to imagine, how quickly he could leap over the windowsill, he could feel the breath on his back, his rough hands fastening around his hips, it took all Andrew’s energy to not cum right then and there, his cock was so hard he knew it would take just a few short strokes... Yet somehow he resisted, somehow – and it was hard to rationalise – he knew that it wasn't time, the beach walker turned, seemingly catching his eye contact.

Andrew took in the roughness of his bare chest, the cool energy, the balance in his stance,

somehow he knew – He needed to be patient.

So he had, for the next few mornings, as the beach walker returned like clockwork, venturing ever closer each time. Andrew could swear, although fearing that maybe his

mind was starting to slip, that the stranger would look toward him, the occasional nod or

flash of eye contact. On the last day the beach walker stayed a little longer after his swim,

running his hands along his stomach, Andrew squinted to see his cock between his hands,