First sex experiences at eighteen, virgin sex, risque location,
Prue Hodgson had always liked the school bus. Even when she was young, and that was because she got to sit up the front when she started school right behind Uncle Dave, who drove the bus.
Little Teagan, who lived near her, shared this seat till their family lost their farm to the bank. Understanding how you could lose a farm took years and why a bank would want it.
Prue missed Teagan, her first true friend and curly-haired like herself.
The years passed, and Prue got to sit where she liked with her new best friend, Janey, through upper primary and high school.
Both were too cool to demand the back seat where what went for rural riff-raff sat. They positioned themselves and their following mid-bus.
Uncle Dave had always looked old and weather-worn. He had the mystic of service in a far-off place called Vietnam and his six-foot-four heavyset frame.
Pru's uncle worked championship draught horses in his spare time, and his barn by the Mehi River was full of state trophies. A quiet man under his broad Akubra on the bus, whom both legend and truth said had once 'turfed off' a senior lad who went on to be a state boxing champion but had 'grown too big for his boots 'and Uncle Dave gave him the long walk home: 'two clicks' of thinking time he called it.
The legendary famous once made all ratbags wary, and they behaved on Dave's bus.
Reputation is everything in a small rural community.
When Janey left high school to work in the Moree cake shop, Prue drifted to the back seat.
Uncle Dave said nothing, but he adjusted his hat.
Prue occupied the corner with Josh, whose pash sessions helped pass the more than hour's journey home.
She was the last student off—the first one on in the morning.
Josh, though, dropped out of college to go wood cutting. He could make enough money from a week in the bush to place a deposit on his first car.
Uncle Dave tipped his hat regularly again to his niece.
Prue thought about a car as she did online and practical senior agricultural studies through her rural school. The same institution for over twelve years now.
She worked hard and led the country school's senior cattle handling team. She wanted to secure a scholarship to the National Agricultural College next year and reinvest her life in the rural community that had given her so much—a country girl at heart.
Intent too on stopping a small community from dying, the ever-present big city of Sydney lured Janey away from their rural district.
Prue had learnt from nature the naturalness of sex and its urges behind the cow sheds in the long grass in autumn at eighteen and the hay loft in winter with the young school farm assistant.
They were your introductory, straightforward got-to-know sessions, the exploring, the acceptance of touch, the pleasure of being penetrated and the frenzy of outright copulating enjoyment.
Billy was the lucky boy.
His big farm hands released her titties into the cool autumn sunshine, and he teased her hard nipples with drying blades of grass.
Tickly and subtly irritating but so pleasurable for Pru. She wanted it both to stop and never stop.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm," she cooed.
Billy's tongue then bladed in sweeping flicks from nipple to nipple; she could have lain there all day; as she embraced her sensual self, her nipples hard, hardened even more by the flicking and sucking.
Billy, the school farm hand, was happy.
His vision of the world was simply two breasts, fulsomely fleshy and naturally round. He needed nothing more at the moment.
Prue though took in the floating clouds above her head, then surrendered to pleasure; closing her eyes and living through her nipples for several minutes; feeling a woman; feeling ready to be taken by cock.
But there was no time that day.
The boss called around the farm for Billy, " Get your arse into the dairy fast before I fire you!"
Winter and the hayloft were where Prue lost her virginity to Billy.
Her russet-coloured pubes in their tangled, wiry length, scattered in every direction on her fleshy mound, complimenting the dry hay they lay in.
Billy's fingers traced paths through their thickness, marvelling at their beautiful colours; her pubes had hints of red and gold like autumn leaves. He had seen nothing like it in his life.
The low winter sun through the loft cast shades across Prue's body but shafts catching and making her lips glow, her breasts look softer, and her pussy desirable beyond desire.
Billy buried his head between her warm thighs for ages until her girly flesh was sopping.
She murmured her appreciation, "Ooh, yes, ooh, yes."
When Prue decided, she reached for his cock. It was already hard. She stroked it.
Again, her eyes shut, internalising every morsel of pleasure.
Her eyes remained closed as Billy eased into her.
Her mouth opened, though with a gasp.
"Oh my, orrgh, orrgh."
Her mouth remained slightly open throughout their intercourse. Her breathing got in sync with his cock's powerful, purposeful piercing of her soft-shaped flesh, which moulded to receive each incoming thrust greedily.
Her sighs of pleasure as it drew her flesh out from herself and the moans as it stabbed back into her.
"Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh, ah!"
Prue felt his girth and eventually his contractions of male release and the expanded wetness seeping from her, and she opened her eyes, all woman and happy.
Happy for herself and Billy, who was smiling at the entire world.
He took his memory of Pru up country within two weeks when he got a job offer as an outback station jackaroo.
Uncle Dave's hat sat high, and his smile broadened as Prue returned to the bus's front seat for the last term of senior college in the spring. The wheels on the bus were like life turning a full circle.
Prue became studious, always reading a textbook up the front, not wasting the long journey each way, early morning or late afternoon.
As the senior student on the bus now and the school's unnecessary bus monitor with enforcer Dave still in charge, she took a few breaks from study.
She joined 'the littlies' down the front singing, "The wheels on the bus" to relax, but it brought melancholy memories back of Teagan.
Time passes, and the familiar changes. Dave was forced by the community and the school to 'retire' after several near misses. One was a close-shave mishap on a single-lane wooden bridge. The school board threatened to pull his contract licence. He retired with a handshake and a faux gold watch from the board.
All the kids, even the grungy ones, grudgingly contributed as Prue held out her hand for a donation to get Dave a gift. It was, of course, a quality horse blanket for one of his beloved draught horses, which she presented to him on behalf of the Lockyer's Road bus at a whole school Assembly.
The new driver was young and new to the district. He looked barely old enough to be out of school. However, the sticker on the front of the bus indicated he held his heavy transport licence.
Dave had passed on the only tip a new country-route fledgling school bus driver needs—turf off the first prick at the first sign of trouble and two clicks from home. The bus was always quiet after that first trip—Jarryn's first and only walker.
Prue minded her business as university entrance exams loomed in a few weeks.
Jarryn, the new driver, was polite but not chatty like Dave.
He could see Prue was busy and left her alone. However, they shared the bus for the first thirty minutes each morning and again before she was the last passenger off in the evening.
Prue thought it was time to get her driver's licence anyway. She would need it for Uni and visits back home next year.
As Prue got on one wonderful warm September spring morning, she noticed Jarryn had an e-reader stuffed beside the driver's seat.
Curious, she sneaked it, sat down, and turned it on while Jarryn concentrated on the road and their next pickups.
His e-book contained intriguing titles, including a hot one— Sensual Bytes by Luke Moore.
Each story contained naughty surprises as she scrolled snippets of hot, racy sex.
She slipped the reader back unnoticed as she exited the school bus in the carpark.
Jarryn saw Prue return it and followed her cute butt getting off the bus.
Looking back, Prue thought Jarryn needed a girlfriend— before school stuff occupied her.
Going home was routine that afternoon until the engine laboured and spluttered, climbing the last hill before the run home into her valley about twenty minutes away.
Jarryn parked in the tourist lookout car park on the crest and went to take a look at the engine.
Prue got out her mobile to ring home; someone could collect her.
There was no one at home, but she left a message.
She went outside for a sticky beak at Jarryn's endeavours with the engine. Prue, knowing farm mechanics, had a natural squiz.
Jarryn turned and smeared some grease on her cheek unexpectedly.
Not taken aback, Prue quickly got some grease and tried smearing the prick back.
He caught her wrist firmly and playfully locked her arms to her sides, his muscular body behind her.
Prue didn't struggle; she murmured consent; she liked the hard; she liked the firm.
She pushed her butt back into his maleness.
"Uh-uh, mmm, uh-uh."
Jarryn released her, wondering what was next.
Pru turned quickly and engaged his mouth before he could breathe. It was a lustful invitation kiss. Her hand was through his zipper before he got up to pace and was under her bra.
Prue gave head in the car park next to the bus.
Any passing tourist would have gotten the panoramic scenic view all right.
Jarryn was in male excitement mode. His cock was being treated by a young woman with full, flowing, curly russet hair.
He looked down; she was doing such a great job.
Then he noticed her eyes were closed. Well, she was enjoying herself. Holding it all, savouring inside herself his rigid meat stiffness.
It was all he could do to guide her back onto the bus for a semblance of privacy.
They both had all their clothes off hurriedly.
Jarryn was kissing her breasts and sucking her nipples. Great tits. Amazing full boobs.
Then he had Prue leaning back on the seat to explore her pussy.
As he went down, she lifted her legs over the handholds on the seats.
"Fuckin beautiful," Jarryn managed.
He saw her spread pinkness resting raunchily on her wild, furry, russet, thick, long, crinkly pubes—hints of reddish-orange and golden honey set against moist, fleshy pink lips.
"Wow", he said.
Instantly memorable, and the taste; was so sweet, fleshly honied.
He couldn't believe the flavour of this woman: entirely girly wet, wildly hairy and saturated with a dewy sex flavour, hints of vanilla and musk.
Her pussy; was syrupy tasting and aromatic. He licked in a primal frenzy, stretching her lips between his lips, prodding strongly at her clit with deft repeated flicks and salivary lapping everywhere.
His face was buried in her lush pubes, lost in a thicket of golden auburn wiry delight.
"Mmm, yes, oh yes, like that, like that, ooh, yes, ooh, ooh, ooh," from Pru.
She came intensely, closing her legs around his neck, her legs quivering before shrieking aloud, "Oh God."
Jarryn looked at her, unsure of how she wanted his cock.
He was about to go straight in when Prue was up and around.
One leg was high over the seat, exposing her russet carpet and pink slit from behind.
The sight added extra hardness to Jarryn's pecker. His stiff, engorged tip met its flappy equal.
Then hard and soft combined in mutual pleasure, combined in blissful friction. The girth of cock met the constriction of shaped surrounding fem-flesh, resulting in pleasure spasms vaulting through two bodies.
Then up a notch, up a level, plateauing in regular short spikes of absolute delight and finally climaxing for two in short sharp jolting waves that flickered through two selves to full mutual orgasms.
Or the basic facts: Prue's privates were creamed. Really creamed. Sticky, gooey jizz dribbled with musky-scented secretions.
There were only a few weeks left of college, and Prue and Jarryn made the most of any bus ride home.
The gossips in the local general store with short memories said Jarryn wasn't half the bus driver Dave had been. He didn't appear to look after the bus; it was constantly breaking down near Lockyer's Lookout.
A rumour circulated that the school board was negotiating with the Education Department to purchase a new bus.
Pub talk waxed harsher; the lad needed a decent bloody day-to-day maintenance schedule for Dave's beloved old girl.
Unknown to the community, Jarryn was engaged with the most pressing maintenance schedule any man can have— regularly servicing a hot young heifer.