Charlene was trembling when she got on the bus. If it hadn't come when it did she could have been in big trouble. Those guys were big and dumb and they could have hurt her. That's what she was afraid of.
When she danced as a stripper she felt protected in the club. Billy and the bouncers made sure nothing would happen to her. But the people watching her were not there to see her strip. She had been in real danger. There had been more than a frisson of excitement about it all. She could have been attacked and they could have hurt her. At the same time it made her hot.
But what a rush! It had been like two wild animals pawing at her. If the bus had not come when it did, they would have drug her off behind some dumpster and forced her against her will. She started to have a fantasy involving coercion and submission. She could see herself being held down by the tall one while the short one grabbed her tits. She imagined the tall one pulling up her dress. She thought of the short one's hard cock slamming into her against her will. She would have screamed, of course, but still....
She tried to put it out of her mind and concentrated on paying the fare.
The bus driver did a double-take when he saw Charlene -- he didn't usually get riders who were quite so provocatively dressed, at least on this route. Her little tight brown knit dress showed everything she had. When she stepped up into the bus, she flashed her white panties. He noticed they weren't clean. Her boobs jiggled in her cleavage in the low-cut dress as she climbed aboard the bus. Her nipples were sticking out when she stood up. She handed him a bill to change for the fare. He noticed it was wet. He hated that. He hoped it was just sweat from her palms. You never know where money's been. Still, she livened up his day. It wasn't often he saw tit and panties, both.
She ignored the impolite stares she got from the old ladies up front, several of whom had seen the altercation with the punks, and sat halfway down the aisle in an empty seat on the far side. She looked out the window and saw that the bus seemed to be going in the right direction. The only question was, how far did it go? One of the old ladies that looked so disapproving sat across from her. She couldn't ask the old biddy.
A young man was sitting behind her, nose buried in a book. There were math formulas and diagrams in it. It was wrapped in a cover, like she'd done herself in high school. The cover was for City College. She twisted around to talk to him, and the slinky dress twisted with her, binding her tits and lifting them up in a lewd display.
"Excuse me" she said. She was still coming down from the adrenaline rush of her altercation with the punks. Scary as it was, the excite had aroused her but now she was thinking more about how to get home, in her exposed and vulnerable situation.
The young man looked up and their eyes met. She gasped -- he was gorgeous. He looked about twenty, a couple of years younger than she was. He had wavy black hair, a boyishly handsome face, and deep, puppy brown eyes. Charlene's arousal started to take over. She tried to calm herself. She gushed a little into her already damp panties.
"Yes ma'am?" She had paused too long and he was puzzled. Was she coming on to him? As he looked at her, he first grew suspicious and then very lucky. Why was this puta talking to him? She looked like the kind of woman his granma kept warning him about. He certainly hoped so. This puta would give him months of masturbation fantasies.
"Uh, I wonder if I could ask you, uh, does this bus stop as Western Avenue?" She knew that once she got there she'd be OK. There was a bus that went in front of the club and it was only five or six bus stops from the intersection.
"Yes ma'am. That's where I'm going."
"Oh." She wanted to continue the conversation. "You live around there? I live around there too. Well, not that close but still near Western, kind of down further.... What's your name?"
The kid knew that there was nothing special about the neighborhood -- it was kind of run down. He wondered why this beautiful anglo girl who was dressed like a puta was talking to him. But he wasn't going to argue.
"Enrique", he said. "It means Henry."
She knew that -- she took Spanish in high school. Everyone in Arizona took Spanish in high school. "That's a beautiful name. Mine's Charlene." Just then the name Enrique seemed magical.
He nodded. "Pleased to meet you." He really didn't know what more to say.
"Do you go to City College?" Charlene was struggling to stay on safe ground, not to spook or intimidate him.
"Yes. I'm trying to get really good grades so I can transfer to UCLA." He tried to keep his eyes on hers but he couldn't help glancing down at her breasts, all twisted around and about to pop out of her dress.
"Oh, I see. Are you studying on the bus?" She knew this conversation was really dumb but she felt like she had to keep him talking. After all, a woman like her would be intimidating to a kid like him. She had to keep it going or he was going to walk out of her life.
"Yes. I am studying for a physics exam." Suddenly it dawned on him that maybe she was interested in more than conversation.