She didn’t, however. She spasmed erratically, she clenched her thighs and she muffled her moans, but she didn’t scream. Charlie drank up the flow of her juices as they rolled over her tongue. Finally, Dorothy’s thighs released her head. She pulled back, licking her lips. Dorothy gasped and desperately tried to push her skirt down.
“Charlie, you better get up,” she said in a frightened, nervous voice.
Charlie looked up. Jeff was leaning against the backs of the seats in front, looking down at her with a fat grin on his face. She stood up, blushing, trying to hide her embarrassment. Dorothy’s face had turned so red it looked like someone had painted it.
“What’s going on here?” he said, still grinning.
Tom was standing behind him, his mouth open in shock. Charlie wiped her mouth. Her cheeks were covered with Dorothy’s juices.
“Just passing time,” she said.
She plopped into her seat as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Dorothy struggled to pull her panties up, but it was impossible without letting the guys see her legs or her ass, so she just did it quickly and sat down again, staring out the window.
“We’re almost at the station,” Jeff said. He sat down in his seat, across the aisle from Charlie. “You’re one freaky chick, you know that?”
She grinned. “I know it.”
The bus lurched to a stop outside the train station. Other buses were already there. He turned back to her again, holding up his backpack.
“I got some good stuff in here,” he said, patting the pack like a newborn baby. “I’ll share it with you when we get on the train.”
“Ok,” Charlie said, although she wanted to share what he had in his pants, not his backpack.
The teachers and chaperons gave them seating assignments on the train, claiming it was the only way they could keep track of all the kids from the different bus loads.
Charlie and Dorothy were seated at the opposite end of the train car from Jeff and Tom. Fortunately, they were allowed to get up and move around once the train was away from the station. She dragged Dorothy to the center of the train car, where they found Tom and Jeff on a pair of bench seats that faced each other.
It was Tom who had the idea for each of them to get a pop from the dining car, which came in a plastic cup, so they wouldn’t have to drink from the bottle. Jeff had a bottle of vodka, which went perfectly well with 7-Up. No one would suspect they were drinking alcohol unless they tasted the drink, and it would be very difficult to detect on their breaths.
Dorothy needed no more encouraging after she learned about the bottle. She still couldn’t light up a cigarette, but she was eager to get drunk. The guys flirted with them, but neither mentioned what they had seen on the bus. Most guys would torture a girl unmercilessly if they had a chance to exploit a compromising position such as the one in which he had caught them.
Jeff had both of the girls giggling uncontrollably after only a few sips of vodka. He made crude references about teachers she always thought were perfect. He even made Tom laugh out loud. Charlie was hotter for him than ever.
Her juices had never stopped leaking from her pussy. The more Jeff turned her on, the more she soaked her panties. She had an urgent tingling between her legs and she squirmed in her seat to try to satisfy herself. If she didn’t do something soon it would soak through the crotch of her jeans. The last thing she needed was more embarrassment. She handed the bottle to Dorothy.
“I gotta take a piss,” she said.
She was a little unsteady when she stood up, and balanced herself against the shifting floor. At the back of the train car was the bathroom door, but the alcohol had made her dizzy, and the rocking of the train didn’t help. Dorothy was laughing at her, and she couldn’t help giggling herself. Her face was very warm.
She stumbled down the aisle to the washroom, using the seat backs as crutches. The small handle didn’t want to cooperate, frustrating her every time she tried to open it. She looked back to her friends. They were watching her, and laughing. She started to laugh as well.
Finally, the door swung open and she almost fell in, laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. She clicked the lock shut and looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were glowing bright red. The tingling between her legs was more intense than ever. She rubbed her thighs together, but that only made it worse. She unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down to her knees. The strong smell of her pussy flooded the tiny compartment.
“My God,” she whispered.
She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of her jeans. Her soaked panties stuck to her crotch. She peeled them off. There was no way he could put the panties back on, so she stuffed them in her purse, hoping nobody would notice the smell. She sat on the toilet seat and propped her feet up like she was in the stirrups of a gynecologist’s examination table.
She touched her sticky pussy lips, ran her fingertip along the delicate opening and pushed it in. Her surging blood roared in her ears. She pulled her finger out and licked it clean, then stuck it back in. She wished she had something bigger to put inside her. What she needed was sitting with Dorothy and Tom.
With one hand she held her pussy lips spread. With her other hand she worked two fingers in and out of her cunt and over her clit. She started slowly and rubbed faster and deeper, but it wasn’t working. The tingling inside her increased, but she couldn’t make her pussy purr.
She shifted on the seat for a more comfortable position, but that didn’t work, either. She tried different fingers, different hands and different strokes. Nothing satisfied her. It only made her sweaty and out of breath.
In disgust she pulled her jeans back up, put her shoes back on, washed her hands and straightened her hair. Still, the tingle wouldn’t go away. She fidgeted, squeezing her thighs together. Her knees were weak and she steadied herself on the edge of the sink.
She sighed, grabbed her purse with the wet panties inside, and opened the door. Jeff was standing on the other side and startled her. She stepped back.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
He stepped into the restroom. The train rattled and clacked at a quick, even clip, rocking gently from side to side. She backed against the wall, facing him. He closed the door and secured the latch.
“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” he said.
“Nothing,” she said, but heard the guilty tone of her voice.
She stared up into his dark blue eyes. They drifted down the front of her body to her chest, her waist and her hips, following all her curves like he was trying to imagine how she looked naked.
He put one hand on the wall over her head, as if to box her in. His closeness made her feel all quivery inside. She tried to imagine how his hands would feel on her tits, how it would feel so good when he squeezed them and touched her nipples. She imagined spreading her legs and feeling his thighs touch the insides of hers. Her legs spread slightly.
“Nothing? It must be something. I can smell it,” he said.