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Anticipation is such an important part of romance: waiting by the phone, hoping he’ll laugh at your joke, wondering if she feels the same way. When the phone rings, when she laughs so hard she snorts, when he says those words, “I love you too,” you feel such relief, it’s like the sun broke free and you’ve never been so happy. I’ve tried to capture some of that spice that seasons those sunburst moments in the entries of Tod’s diary, as he writes about his first encounters with Carla, the heroine of Love on the 500 (on sale now for 99¢!).
Tod just turned eighteen, and he’s off to celebrate his first year as a gutter punk with his friends. His ride on the bus turns out to be a lot more interesting than he expected.
July 24th, 2003
I was riding the bus today, not paying much attention to anything. As usual, people gave me space, because, well, it had been months since I’d taken a shower. They all stuck in their earbuds and pretended the bus didn’t exist. I wore my cheap aviator sunglasses I stole from a gas station, and no one could tell what I was looking at.
A cute girl sat with her hands stuck between her knees, on her lap a purse covered in cartoon characters. At the next stop I shuffled back so I stood in front of her. A secret little smile curled her lips, and her eyes kept moving over my body. Every now and then her gaze would slip past me to the window, and she would watch me from the corner of her eye.
Her breasts mesmerized me as she stretched back to pull the cord. She stood, and for a moment, her hand touched my ass.
My dick leapt to attention. Happy birthday to me.
Stunned, I didn’t catch what stop she got off at. I had to wait for my embarrassing boner to recede. I hunched over and stared at the floor, shivering with excitement while I waited.
When I noticed people were starting to whisper I got off. Turning my head, I remembered the bus’ number, the 500. I had to backtrack a couple of blocks to get to the bar we were meeting at. Everyone had saved up some money to celebrate my first birthday on the streets. Apparently it was a big deal.
Thinking about celebrating my seventeenth with my girlfriend last year, my heart sped up and I walked faster.
I had more fun than I thought I would. I don’t know how they managed to get me served, but they did, and I’m drunk.
Which is probably why I’m writing this: I promise, to myself, that when I turn 21, I will ask my mystery ass grabber on a date.
July 24th, 2004
I got on the 500 around four. My friends harassed me about wanting to spend my birthday crammed on a bus in Pittsburgh. I would get off in Shadyside, take a bus back, get off in Oakland, get on the next 500.
They didn’t know I’d been riding the bus all week, looking for her. I’d spent a lot of money traveling between Oakland and Shadyside. Waiting for the bus in Oakland, I stalked the stops, searching for the face seared in my mind.
Finally I saw her waiting outside as I sped past. The bus was crowded, and she couldn’t get on, but I knew her stop, in front of the bank on Fifth Avenue. It was the perfect birthday present, knowing tomorrow I’d get my chance.
July 25th, 2004
I put on my grungiest clothes, the ones with holes in obscene places. I wanted to get her horny, I wanted her to go home and touch herself, thinking about me. I got to the stop at five, bought an Italian ice, and sweated.
Other gutter punks waved at me. My friend Vic wanted to sit with me, but I shooed her away.
My heart soared when my elusive molester arrived. I jammed myself onto the same bus with her, and stood in the crowded front, my back to her.
Sure enough, a surreptitious hand touched my ass, this time lingering. When the bus slowed, I let the motion push me into her. It felt like her heart beat was in her palm, pulsing against my skin. My dick throbbed, and I wanted to turn to her, to touch her.
Everyone shuffled to let a bunch of grad students off, and she slipped away into the bowels of the bus. Her hand left a residue of heat on my ass. Sometimes I thought I was crazy, trying to get to Pittsburgh for my birthday. Now I knew it was worth it.
This time I remembered the stop she got off at, Howe and Highland.
I went to the house we were squatting in, and got drunk and stoned with everyone. After that Vic cornered me and we made out. That made me get all emotional, and she was really cool about it.
July 24th, 2005
Next year, I’ll ask her on a date. This year, I have to wait for her, trying to keep my fingers from getting all sticky while I eat my gelato and sketch.
She showed up, and I got to stare at her ass for a good half hour. A curvy meaty woman, I wanted to hold that softness against me. Maybe today I’d turn the tables and grab her ass. I tried to think about how her round ass would feel in my hand, a little wiggle with muscle underneath.
Pacing, she gave me a view of the rest of her, her pretty blue eyes and big bouncy tits. I had to look away, these pants showed off my boner too much.
The first bus that came by was too crowded and she just stood there. I almost missed my chance when she threw me off by getting on the 71C.
The bus was practically empty. Standing over her would be a little obvious, so I positioned myself close, but not on top of her.
Today she was very interested in the advertisements around me. I wondered if she recognized me? Whenever I was on the bus with her, she seemed aware of me. It could be something as simple as the unconscious awareness of a predator for its prey.
Either way, we both stood there, licking our lips in anticipation.
When she got off the bus, she stumbled into me and enjoyed a long grope that started mid-thigh and worked up to my ass. She mumbled sorry and kept going.
I found an empty room and jerked off when I got back to the house.
Vic found me afterwards, as if drawn by my spunk, and tackled me. We played tonsil hockey until our lips were red and swollen.
The story continues in Love on the 500. This is the first book in the Ass Grabber series. Sorry, you have to wait for the second story to find out why Tod ran away from home.
Love on the 500 is a quirky tale of when Miss Havisham met Holden Caulfield.
Carla should be arrested, she keeps molesting men on the bus. She knows it’s wrong, but she can’t help herself, all those asses crying out for a fondle, a caress. Every time she got off at her stop, she’d grab a piece of cheek.
One day, a man follows her off the bus, and her life changes forever.
Join Carla as she dusts off her kitten and takes her out for a beer and a little slap and tickle with a younger man. Set in Pittsburgh’s affluent neighborhood of Shadyside, this story captures of the fun of two twenty-somethings falling in love in the Steel City.
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Also, I’ll be on vacation next week. It’s within the realm of possibility that the internet will go on the fritz, in which case I will be awarding my prize when I get back.