“I shifted my weight to a different butt cheek. Not long after back to the other one, then I thought fuck it. I spread my weight evenly over both. I separated my legs slightly and leaned forward even less of a distance, but enough to allow my pleasure zone to rest on the seat. I got the desired result. The rumbling tickled my tingle. It felt great.”
My legs were kicked from under me as he swung his over the mats. I lost grip on him and impacted on my back. He rolled on top of me and smashed a fist into my face, forcing my head to bounce off the floor. As my head was on the way back up to him he brought an elbow down into it, smashing my nose. I felt the blood run over my features as my head found the mats again.
“When the bus changed speeds, slower, faster, it tormented me. Just when it was giving it to me how I hoped it would, it would take it away. It was delicious torture. I checked around the bus, tried to take in the faces. Had anyone noticed the affect it was having on me? It didn’t seem like it. I tried to find a target.”
I lifted my hips from the mat and rolled. I was on top of him now. He was soon fighting to get free though, so I brought my head down into his face. Then I placed a forearm on his throat, pressed as much of my weight onto it as possible, while I positioned my legs so I would be able to stand.
“My eyes quickly moved over the ugly students and zeroed in on a boy I didn’t know. I watched him. I studied his features. His strong jaw, his ruffled hair, and his grey piercing eyes. I was brave and held the stare for longer than anyone other than a stalker really should.”
Hearing Sara talk about a boy again made me jealous, angry. It was what I needed. I smashed a knee into the guy’s groin. He doubled and I stood. I stomped a foot down at his head. He moved to the side and I just hit tatami. He grabbed my right ankle before I was able to stomp again and scooped my foot from under me. I fell on my back once more, this time the wind rushed from my lungs.
“I pushed my hips forward slightly and grinded them back when the bus went over a bump in the road. The moistness was back. More vibrations. I bit my bottom lip and noticed I was twitching again. I tried to fight it, tried to make sure the twitches weren’t visible. My breasts were performing gymnastics once more too. I wanted to grab them, to squeeze them. The urge was overwhelming. But I couldn’t. It would give the game away. I still wondered if I could risk it though.”
The guy didn’t mount me this time; he got to his feet and smashed one of them down into my stomach. The pain was tremendous. I doubled, forcing me to jackknife. He locked fingers around my throat and started to squeeze. I could tell by his grinding teeth and his wide eyes that I’d really pissed him off.
“I looked from the boy to the window I sat next to. I saw my reflection in the grey. I saw my erect nipples, clearly visible through my white shirt. One of my hands edged up to my breasts. I wanted to run the back of my hand over a nipple, so it could flick off each of my fingers. I chickened out. I turned back to my target instead.”
I scratched at his fingers. It did nothing. I pulled at them, the same result. I was going dizzy, feeling sleepy.
“Vroom-Vroom. I shut my eyes as soon as I was facing the right direction, to lock his image in my mind and to focus on the vibrations. Vroom-Vroom. I was a covert snake with my hips, my pussy rubbing over the rough material of the chair. Vroom-Vroom. The vibrations seemed to not only be tickling the outer side of me, but the inside was feeling the reverberations too, increasing the wetness. It was there again, that feeling, like I was about to reach what I was hoping I could.”
I reached what I could. I jabbed my fingers, on both hands, at the guy’s face. One hit an eye. He let go of my throat and stumbled away, clutching at the pain he was feeling. I grabbed at my throat, tried to rub some life into it, and took as many quick breaths as I could. Oxygen was desperately needed.
“Vroom-Vroom. I opened my eyes. The boy was gone. In his seat was a girl from a higher year. She was pretty. Very pretty to be truthful. I was surprised I didn’t look away. I studied her figure as the bus rumbled its way to reaching my own personal destination, climax.”
I looked over to Sara; it was hard to make her out with the beam shining at me. She was half smiling; I think concern for me was preventing a full one. She pointed at the guy, indicated with a nod in his direction that it wasn’t over yet. She was right. He’d removed his hands from his face and was moving toward me.
“She sat across the aisle from me and had on black shoes with small heels. In the shoes, white socks, turned down at the top, frilly bits around that edge. I never thought the sight of socks and their contact with the smooth skin of a girl’s legs could turn me on. But it did.”
I stood. I blocked the kick that was aimed at me, managing to catch the guy’s foot in my hand. I kicked one of my legs out, hitting him in the leg he was standing on. He dropped to the mats.
“Vroom-Vroom. Breathing shallow. Body twitching. My right leg going stiff. My eyes followed her legs. White, pale, but perfect. I wished my legs were as sexy. I followed the curve to the knee and then the under side of the thigh as it vanished into the grey skirt she was wearing. So hot. Why was I still looking?”
I’d been distracted by Sara’s story. I didn’t take the advantage I had. The guy was on his feet again. This time he didn’t kick one at me; he set them in a boxing stance and threw a right cross instead. I parried it and hit him with a hook to his kidneys.
“Vroom-Vroom. I was almost there. Ready to cry out. It was the best feeling I’d ever had. It was beating the classroom incident and I hadn’t even done much to help it to escalate. Vroom-Vroom. I was on the edge. I was about to tip over it. I shut my eyes and waited for it to happen. Thinking of the girl. Why thinking of her? It doesn’t matter why, it only matters that it was doing the trick.”
It was doing the trick for me. I smiled and hit the guy with a jab cross. My next punch just smashed into his guard though. His next punch didn’t hit my guard. I didn’t even have it raised. His fist found my jaw easily. I backpedaled and raised my hands.
“Vroom-Vroom. Just a few more. Vroom-Vroom. I pushed my hips forward. Vroom-Vroom. Then back. I settled them there. I could feel my own wetness on my skin, sneaking free of my panties. Vroom-Vroom. It was going to happen. RING! Someone had pressed the bell to stop the bus. I opened an eye. It was my stop. The bus stopped and I ran down the center aisle, hoping my moistness wasn’t running down a leg. I managed to jump off the bus just moments before the doors almost shut on me. I watched the bus drive away. This wasn’t the damn destination I was hoping to reach.”
I took a few of the guy’s punches on my guard, my arms bruising for sure. It felt a world away from when you defended them and your opponent was wearing boxing gloves. I peeked my head from behind my guard, saw him drop his right shoulder, indicating he was winding up for a right cross. I didn’t allow him to throw the punch. I threw one of my own. An uppercut.
“It was at that moment my mind was taken over by my violent fantasies again ... I knew a short cut, so I took it. I ran down an alley, it was between two stores, one that I’d in fact stolen from once … in my younger rebellious days. Only some chocolate. It wasn’t like a cut scene from Grand Theft Auto or anything like that, no shotguns, no hookers in tight, short leather skirts, or a racially offensive stereotyped cashier. Pretty unexciting really. I’m not sure why I’ve even mentioned it.”
My punch was clean; it hit him under the jaw before he was able to throw his own punch. I followed with a right hook. He took that clean in his face too. Then I went dirty again; I stepped on his leading foot and hit him with a spinning elbow.
“I dropped my bag behind a dumpster and picked up an empty bottle of beer that was sitting on top. The label read Green Goblin, but the glass was white, a missed opportunity if you ask me. I hadn’t heard of the brand before, I had heard of the comic book villain with the same name. I tried to channel the best Willem Dafoe voice I could muster as I mumbled my plan to myself, still running. I couldn’t slow down, or the scheme wouldn’t work, I had to be The Flash, even if I was talking like The Green Goblin.”
He was stumbling, his feet not going where he wanted them to, when he threw out a jab. I just tucked my chin into my chest and lowered my head. His hand hit the top, breaking his knuckles for sure. “That’s why they invented boxing gloves.”
“I took a left once I was out of the alley, dodged a fat lady and her thin kid. I said something abusive, what I said isn’t that important, what I didn’t say is worth mentioning. That being the choice I made to not raise the issue of her weight. It would have been easy to, but I’m better than that, if masturbating in public twice in the same day and having murder fantasies can still allow me to be considered as such.
“I’d been mocked for my weight. It had always made me feel pretty shitty. It’s ironic to use the word pretty in that sentence, since it was far from how it made me feel. I didn’t want to put someone else through that. I’m basically a good girl, or at least I was back then … I lost the excess weight not long after. I managed to get it off just before I started my first job, the gym and an unhealthy health diet to thank for it.”
As he was nursing his injured hand in his other I kicked him in his legs. He fell to the floor again. My stomp connected with his face this time. I felt something hit off a foot as I was readying to drop another onto his face. It was the knife. I picked it up and knelt next to him.
“When I was bigger—fatter, if you will—I would only use the showers after our physical education class if I was able to keep my underwear on, a bit of coverage to hide my curves. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but being the only girl in there with her underwear on brought even more unwanted attention to me than if I’d just gone naked.”
I held his hands to his chest with my left knee and grabbed his hair with my right hand. I used the knife to dig into his throat. Then I started to draw it toward me as blood began to pool around the blade.
“My legs were burning when …”
I looked to Sara. Her mouth was open. I looked at the guy whose throat I was cutting. His mouth was open too, his tongue hanging from it. I looked back at Sara. What the hell was I doing? I’d turned into a monster myself. But … “Don’t stop, keep telling me the story,” I told Sara. Then I got back to work with the knife.
“My legs were burning when I reached the bus stop. But it was worth it. I’d beaten my target to its destination. Only by a few seconds, but I was proud of myself. The last time we had had a cross-country run at college I finished in last place. Not making excuses, but I was slowed down by an injury. I’d choked on a candy bar I was eating while having a little rest.”
I’d reached the other side of his throat with the blade. I removed the knife from his flesh, with a spray of red. I watched as blood started to bubble and foam at the corners of his mouth. Then his eyes glazed over. I just stared at him. Trying to figure out what I was feeling … I felt proud … like a hero.
“I say rest; I was on lookout if we’re being truthful. A girl from the year above had told me she’d help me get cool by proxy if I stood guard while she went into the woods to do the nasty with her boyfriend. It seemed too good of an offer to pass up. She didn’t uphold her end of the deal though. When we got back she spread a rumor about me spying on them, a Peeping-Tabitha, she’d called me.”
I stood, looked at the knife, the blood that was on the blade, and the blood that was all over my hands. I swallowed. I slowly turned to Sara. She was still sitting on the floor, the beam of the flashlight illuminating me. She was smiling. I smiled back then started to walk toward her.
“The bus pulled to a stop. I pushed an old lady out of the way. I did say sorry to her. She said something back; I think it was some old world curse. The doors opened with an expulsion of air. I jumped up the two steps and faced the driver, panting like a dog in heat and sweating like a nun in a brothel, a very attractive combination. I told him he needed to drive slower, that I hadn’t been able to finish grinding. He had no idea what I was referring to. He was just as confused when I asked him if he wanted a beer.”
Her chest was rising and falling. Her voice had become breathy. It sounded so sexy. She looked even sexier than usual, despite the missing toe and pool of blood. I’m not sure what had happened to me in that small amount of time on that night, what had happened to Sara, what had happened to how I felt about her, but I knew I didn’t feel like a failure anymore.
“I hit the bottle into his face, and just like in a bar fight in a western B-movie, it smashed. Unlike in those movies, his face was awash with little thin zigzagging lines of blood, glass stuck to the wounds, resembling frost on a car window on a cold winter’s morning. It was beautiful, the way the light caught on the shards, sparkling, blinking heaven at me.”
I knelt down next to her, placed the knife on the tatami mats, and placed my bloody hands at either side of her face. Seeing the red blush her cheeks made me want her there and then. She was beautiful, the blood enhancing her already perfect complexion.”
“His head fell forward onto the wheel. The horn honked. I jabbed the bit of the bottle I had left in my hand into his face. It was disgusting. I instantly regretted doing it. I had broken a nail.” She smiled at me.
I smiled at her. “That was a great story.”
“That was a great kill.”
“I don’t want to seem weird when I say this …”