Working overtime on a Saturday is no fun. Especially when the train only goes from your town to the city during rush hour Monday to Friday. During off-peak hours the only public transportation that will get you there is the bus.
When you get to the bus station that evening, you watch as people disembark, heading excitedly to the downtown core for dinner or a show. You wait patiently for your bus to arrive to take you in the opposite direction; away from the excitement and the crowds, to take you to the quiet comfort of home.
You and a smattering of others board the bus. The majority of the people stay on the lower level, but you are going to the end of the line, so you head up the stairs, to the solitude of the upper deck.
You are the only passenger on the upper level and you nestle yourself into a seat at the front. You stare out at the world displayed before you through the large window and you feel exposed. It makes you a little excited to be on display and you wonder if anyone can see you.
You rest your feet on the safety bar before you and close your eyes. As though with a mind of their own, your fingers trace slow circles on your knees and lazy figure eights on your thighs. Your breath quickens as you dip your fingers between your flexed thighs and you graze your fingertips along your excited heat.
A soft purr rises in your throat as you open your eyes and stretch luxuriously. Your excitement rises whist strumming your passion and your body quakes as you watch the traffic whiz passed on the open road.
With over an hour of travel time left, how does a single rider pass the time?