Walking out of a small Greek island airport - pretty much just a shed and a landing strip - a guy in jeans and a fitted white t-shirt caught my eye amongst the dozens of other holiday makers who were already in their uniform baggy shorts and flip-flops. I was heading out to the bus bays and ending up falling in behind the guy in jeans who seemed to be going the same way. The centre seam of his jeans was pulled up tight into the crack of his arse in such a way that can only mean there was something significant up front, pulling it there.
I asked which was my bus and a ramshackle old bus with a few people stood round it was pointed out. Jeans-guy was heading in the same direction. His t-shirt rippled in the breeze, accentuating his broad shoulders and slim hips. His dark hair was cropped short. He got to the bus first and reached up to open the door. 'Jeez' I thought, this guy's the driver. As he stepped up into the bus the breeze lifted his t-shirt, revealing the hottest tight little arse in the lowest of low-rise denim. Immediately the vision was gone but there was enough to see a tantalising glimpse of bum cleavage. By this time I had reached the bus and he turned to climb down from the bus to open the side lockers for the luggage. As he stepped back into the daylight I could see straight away what was pulling the seam of his jeans right up his arse - a huge curving bulge stretched across onto his left thigh. Wow I thought this is going to be quite a journey. Luggage loaded, we all filed onto the bus and paid for our tickets. Looking down into his lap when it was my turn there sat the delicious monster, straining in the tightened denim.
The journey was uneventful. The old bus creaked and crashed across the potholed island roads and the sun blazed down. Gradually the other passengers disembarked until suddenly I realised I was the only one left. I'd sat in a seat at the front, opposite the driver, so I could admire the view - inside and outside the bus. We rounded a corner and he went for a change into bottom gear. With a horrendous grinding groan the bus jerked to a halt. Efforts to restart it were in vain. The driver turned round and grinned, saying something unintelligible in Greek.
He wriggled out of the driving seat and glanced up into the parcel shelf above my head where his bag was sitting. He came alongside me and stretched up. His t-shirt rode up, revealing a six-pack to die for, deeply tanned and covered in fine black hair. He couldn't quite reach and stretched further. His jeans, unbelted, dropped a little, allowing some stray black curls to come into view. Beneath the waistband his straining cock bulged out. My hand reached out and casually brushed across the shape of his cock; it could easily have been an accident. 'Can't you find what you're looking for' I asked. He looked down and shook his head, and with another broad grin disappeared up to the back of the bus. Clearly what he wanted wasn't to be found there either.
Without the engine running the aircon had stopped too and the temperature on the bus was starting to rise. We were miles from anywhere with nobody in sight. He came back to where I was sitting and signalled that he needed to look back into the inner recesses of the luggage rack. Up he stretched and the unbelted jeans, low-riding at the best of time, slid further down over his hips. He's going to lose them altogether I thought as the top of his cock came into view. It's only his cock that's keeping them up at all. His eyes met mine. This was deliberate. An invitation.
He hung onto the edge of the luggage rack, arms raised high above his head. I slid the t-shirt up his now sticky body and hooked it over the back of his head. There was no resistance. I worked my way back down that perfect torso, pausing only to work over the nipple ring with my tongue. I put my hands round the back of him and slipped my fingers into the back pockets of the jeans. With a little wriggle I slid them further down, seeing the reflection of his tight tanned bum in the window opposite. At the front the denim was less stretched and with my thumb and forefinger I traced out the shape of his cock. It was truly enormous and was thickening by the second as I explored its length through the material. I brought out my hands and grabbed the jeans at the sides, very gently lowering them further, revealing bit by bit the monster within. It was a full ten inches long, and thick too, by the time the head sprung out of the jeans and they dropped to the floor. I wrapped my hands round it and massaged. I cradled his balls in my hand and guided the thickness of his shaft into my mouth. I moved up and down as much of its length as I could, teasing with lips and teeth, all the time working over his luscious balls. He started to rock and moan and I felt his body starting to tense. With a huge stretch he came in my mouth; it felt like gallons and started to run down my face.
When we'd relaxed he stepped down from where he'd been standing and beckoned to the back seat of the bus. I followed him up the bus and sat myself where indicated on the middle of the back seat. The driver knelt on the floor in front of me and starting rubbing the front of my shorts. I was up there immediately and lifted myself off the seat so that he could pull off my shorts and turn his attentions on me. This he did with a skill that confirmed this was no first time chance encounter. Just as I was fit to burst he stopped and flipped himself over, presenting those tight suntanned buns to me. I stood and turned to face his invitation, sinking myself deep into his innermost depths. I reached round and took his cock once more in my hand as I pumped hard into his arse. I came with explosive force and we collapsed into a heap on the seat.
Just at that moment there was a crunching gravel sound and a breakdown truck came slowly into view. Our rescue was nigh, and by the time it pulled up alongside the bus we were back in our respective seats as if nothing had happened.
I asked which was my bus and a ramshackle old bus with a few people stood round it was pointed out. Jeans-guy was heading in the same direction. His t-shirt rippled in the breeze, accentuating his broad shoulders and slim hips. His dark hair was cropped short. He got to the bus first and reached up to open the door. 'Jeez' I thought, this guy's the driver. As he stepped up into the bus the breeze lifted his t-shirt, revealing the hottest tight little arse in the lowest of low-rise denim. Immediately the vision was gone but there was enough to see a tantalising glimpse of bum cleavage. By this time I had reached the bus and he turned to climb down from the bus to open the side lockers for the luggage. As he stepped back into the daylight I could see straight away what was pulling the seam of his jeans right up his arse - a huge curving bulge stretched across onto his left thigh. Wow I thought this is going to be quite a journey. Luggage loaded, we all filed onto the bus and paid for our tickets. Looking down into his lap when it was my turn there sat the delicious monster, straining in the tightened denim.
The journey was uneventful. The old bus creaked and crashed across the potholed island roads and the sun blazed down. Gradually the other passengers disembarked until suddenly I realised I was the only one left. I'd sat in a seat at the front, opposite the driver, so I could admire the view - inside and outside the bus. We rounded a corner and he went for a change into bottom gear. With a horrendous grinding groan the bus jerked to a halt. Efforts to restart it were in vain. The driver turned round and grinned, saying something unintelligible in Greek.
He wriggled out of the driving seat and glanced up into the parcel shelf above my head where his bag was sitting. He came alongside me and stretched up. His t-shirt rode up, revealing a six-pack to die for, deeply tanned and covered in fine black hair. He couldn't quite reach and stretched further. His jeans, unbelted, dropped a little, allowing some stray black curls to come into view. Beneath the waistband his straining cock bulged out. My hand reached out and casually brushed across the shape of his cock; it could easily have been an accident. 'Can't you find what you're looking for' I asked. He looked down and shook his head, and with another broad grin disappeared up to the back of the bus. Clearly what he wanted wasn't to be found there either.
Without the engine running the aircon had stopped too and the temperature on the bus was starting to rise. We were miles from anywhere with nobody in sight. He came back to where I was sitting and signalled that he needed to look back into the inner recesses of the luggage rack. Up he stretched and the unbelted jeans, low-riding at the best of time, slid further down over his hips. He's going to lose them altogether I thought as the top of his cock came into view. It's only his cock that's keeping them up at all. His eyes met mine. This was deliberate. An invitation.
He hung onto the edge of the luggage rack, arms raised high above his head. I slid the t-shirt up his now sticky body and hooked it over the back of his head. There was no resistance. I worked my way back down that perfect torso, pausing only to work over the nipple ring with my tongue. I put my hands round the back of him and slipped my fingers into the back pockets of the jeans. With a little wriggle I slid them further down, seeing the reflection of his tight tanned bum in the window opposite. At the front the denim was less stretched and with my thumb and forefinger I traced out the shape of his cock. It was truly enormous and was thickening by the second as I explored its length through the material. I brought out my hands and grabbed the jeans at the sides, very gently lowering them further, revealing bit by bit the monster within. It was a full ten inches long, and thick too, by the time the head sprung out of the jeans and they dropped to the floor. I wrapped my hands round it and massaged. I cradled his balls in my hand and guided the thickness of his shaft into my mouth. I moved up and down as much of its length as I could, teasing with lips and teeth, all the time working over his luscious balls. He started to rock and moan and I felt his body starting to tense. With a huge stretch he came in my mouth; it felt like gallons and started to run down my face.
When we'd relaxed he stepped down from where he'd been standing and beckoned to the back seat of the bus. I followed him up the bus and sat myself where indicated on the middle of the back seat. The driver knelt on the floor in front of me and starting rubbing the front of my shorts. I was up there immediately and lifted myself off the seat so that he could pull off my shorts and turn his attentions on me. This he did with a skill that confirmed this was no first time chance encounter. Just as I was fit to burst he stopped and flipped himself over, presenting those tight suntanned buns to me. I stood and turned to face his invitation, sinking myself deep into his innermost depths. I reached round and took his cock once more in my hand as I pumped hard into his arse. I came with explosive force and we collapsed into a heap on the seat.
Just at that moment there was a crunching gravel sound and a breakdown truck came slowly into view. Our rescue was nigh, and by the time it pulled up alongside the bus we were back in our respective seats as if nothing had happened.
