I took off my jacket and gave it to her. Wearing it she managed to cover more than the skirt ever did. The bus was it's usual packed self. My seat was... still free because I left a few cans in a bag on it, people recognised this as 'seat taken' so I often bought a couple extra cans just to do it. I sat down and had expected claire to go back with her mates but she sat beside me still wrapped in my jacket looking a little worse for wear. "you don't have to sit here, I'll get my jacket later" I. She had my cock out in 5 seconds flat and when she did boy did she get a shock. She starred down at my member with her mouth open as I sat there grinning like an idiot. Once she got over her shock though she was into it. sliding her sweet lips over the tip of my cock and sucking it tenderly. then she gripped it at the base and started sliding her mouth up and down my fuck pole playing with my balls occasionally and always keeping eye contact with me. This drove me crazy and i was soon. I hated writing about what I was enduring at first but as theweeks passed my time with pen and paper became a solace to me. Recently, I decided to publish my journals. I am not a writer and when Iset down the accounts of my ordeals, I often wrote in a form one might describeas 'streams of consciousness'. At other times I employed personal shorthand.In order that my experiences and feelings be presented in a more readable manner,I sent my journal to the author to be presented in whatever form he. Playing with their offspring involved the ladies being on their knees, as was I. This afforded many opportunities to look down tops, enjoy shapely bottoms in leggings, some of which became quite transparent when they were stretched over the cheeks of their bottoms, providing outlines of knickers and thongs; and glimpses of whale tails as their low-ride jeans slid down to reveal the lacy, cotton or silky tops of thongs. Wonderful fuel for my imagination.Secondly, there was Anna. She was a staff.