Terror On The Top Deck

He heard the click of her heels
As she skipped lightly up the stairs
To take a seat on top of the bus,
Bringing with her a whiff of ‘Evening in Paris’

The lights on the top deck were off as
The bus idled, waiting to fill at the terminus,
Well lit from the streetlights as
They gave off their soft amber glow.

He couldn’t see all of her
She sat a row back opposite the aisle
But he sensed she was young and pretty
Innocently nubile

His heart was beating a rumba
The veins in his temples pulsed blue
He could feel his eyes popping
And the sweat trickle into them-

His loins tingled
He grew large against
The fabric of his trousers
He furtively released himself
From their restriction
And held his hard flesh with trembling hands
His eyes slid to the side,
Head slightly tilted
To see her staring
Open mouthed
Not breathing
Not moving
Caught …like a fawn in headlamps

Terror held her moment-
Stretching it out like forever.

For him
Bliss, ecstasy-

Then her moment, jack-knifed.. sped on
She Screamed like a wild thing
Clattered down the stairs and
Out into the November night...

While his-
Flower burst, spurted
And juddered with pleasure…

Fast forward life’s loop
Action replay-

This time
His moment shrivelled and died
As giggling derisively
She rose casually from her seat
Muttered "dirty old perv" over her shoulder
And skipped nimbly back down the stairs
To sit on the lower deck.

©
Copyright
VMM
2004