Same bus. Same time. Same Story. Different week.Ever since my little encounter on the bus about a month ago, I’ve actually found myself volunteering to lock up the bar I worked in on Thursday nights – the local student night – on the off chance I’d again run into my mystery girl on the last bus running out of town.I’d been running the experience through my head, and it had become my go-to wank fantasy, becoming a more and more horn-inspiring scenario every time I reached for the tissues.She’d taken my number, although I’d never really expected a call; I didn’t even know the girls’ name, but sometimes a man just has to hope.Perhaps I’d made an impression on her too; if cumming on her face hadn’t made the experience memorable for her, then nothing would. Without her phone number though, I was effectively impotent and completely in her power, so all I could do was wait, hope and take the last home on the night she was most likely to be in town.It raised an eyebrow the first Thursday I’d volunteered to take the lock-up shift in the bar; the second week, my colleague assumed I’d lost my mind; on the third, he’d cottoned on that my unusually charitable behaviour was dick related and simply gave me a nod, following the bartenders’ version of omerta.He now left on Thursday nights, with nothing more than a look that said, ‘Remember where the cameras are!’ assuming that I screwing some woman I shouldn’t – likely a married regular – after hours in the bar, which had happened more than enough times for a non-verbal signal to exist between us. I’d struck out though, four weeks and no joy, and now – on the fifth Thursday – I’d just fallen back into the habit of half-dozing on the last bus, rather than sitting up like a wired ferret every time the door of the bus opened to let on a new passenger.When my phone buzzed in my pocket, I barely registered the vibrations; it did that specific double buzz though, which let me know that it was a text message I’d received, rather than any sort of social media interaction, so I pulled my phone out to take a look.The message read, Remember me?I checked the number; it wasn’t one I had stored, which unfortunately wasn’t unusual; like every bartender worth their salt, I knew god-knows how many people in the trade, and it was an industry where phones were lost, damaged or stolen on a remarkably frequent basis.A strange number could be my best mate calling me off a burner phone, as easily as it could be a half-stranger hitting me up looking for a late drink or inviting me out for one. ‘Sorry mate, you’re going to have to be a bit more specific…’ I fired off in return.The phone buzzed again, almost instantly vibrating for a second time, signalling a quick follow up message.If I’d been half-asleep on the empty bus, message one rectified that; it was a selfie of a pretty twenty-something blonde with cum splashed on one side of her face. The follow-up text read, Sure you don’t remember me?Oh – I think I’ve seen your face before somewhere, I replied, re-checking the spelling a half-a-dozen times, feeling my heart start-up like a drum before hitting the [SEND] key.There was no delay in the response, Can you guess what I’m doing?Afraid of guessing wrong, I tried to buy a little clue, ‘Well, you’re not on the bus…’No, the message came back with a whole succession of smiley-face emojis, ‘but we are playing Truth or Dare again.’My pulse went up another notch, and I could feel it beating in more places than just my chest now. ‘Great game!’ I fired send back, just as quickly as my fingers could touch the keys.In the small delay between texts, I saved the random number to my phone as: [Bus Girl!!!].Oh, you like? she asked, followed by a series of emojis that, beyond the occasional smiley-face, I was at a loss to translate.Rather than fuck around colons and close-parenthesis, I sent the smiley-face I had saved on my Göztepe Escort phone, which had been the focus of so much of my recent personal time – the picture I’d snapped of the girls’ smiley cum-stained face.I followed up with my own text, Yes – I like that game.You bastard, she texted back, echoing the words she’d used lustily after I’d cum her face without warning.I didn’t send an instant reply, my eyes caught by the two images in my message trial; in the grand scheme of things, I think I could be forgiven for being a bit distracted – it was my cum on the pretty girls’ face after all.My phone vibrated again in my hand, snapping reality into focus, Wanna play again?All thoughts of trying to play it cool were lost as I read the question, with ‘Fuck, Yes!’ being the response I sent back.A full minute must have passed, which felt like a life sentence in horny bloke time until the girls’ reply came in.OK – well, I get to go first, so: I DARE you to stay on your bus, she’d clearly guessed that I was on the same bus route home again, until you get to stop 137@Colebridge Road.I started to formulate a response. Even given the circumstances, it was actually quite a big ask; the stop she mentioned was about thirty minutes past my own, and there’d be no bus coming back towards my flat and even less chance of calling an Uber out so far from the nearest town at this time of night.Fuck it – I decided to gamble and risk a night walking home without a coat in the winter cold. About the only thing I really knew about the Colebridge Road area was there was a shit load of student accommodation out that way – it was worth the risks.I started typing a response, but my phone buzzed with follow up instructions, DON’T message me again unless you complete your DARE – when you get to the bus stop, text me back and tell me what colour the bench is there – get it wrong, or text me without the answer and I’ll block your number. I hesitated, frozen, even as the bus skated past my stop – well, there was no turning back now. As I sat on the bus, I wasted the time to my new destination by flicking between the two photographs I had of the girl; fantasising about what was waiting for me at the bus stop and allowing my cock to harden with memories of the girls’ previous promise to suck me off.Even if her only plan was to give me a quick blow job at the bus stop, it would be totally worth it. Thirty minutes along the road, I hit the bell to request the bus stop and disembarked with my cock halfway hard, which I did my best to hide with a limp, as I walked past the driver, jumping off at what was basically a shelter of the side of a busy road.The sound of the bus pulling off and shifting gear perfectly punctuated the deflating of my cock and ego as I took in that the stop really was just a shelter with a bin – there wasn’t a fucking bench of any colour!?Had I got off at the wrong fucking stop?! The fucking sign was right there though, definitely stop 137.My blood started to rise again, only this time in anger, convinced that the girl had played me; I grabbed my phone and fired off, There isn’t a fucking bench here.I checked for typos, seeing that my tone sounded like a pissed off child, but sent off the text anyway.The phone buzzed straight away, That’s right! – We thought you weren’t cumming!I calmed myself and tried for a more flirty message, Yeah, it took me longer to get off than I was expecting.The girls’ reply was a message filled with smiley-face and aubergine emojis, and the text Funny! – Well, it’s your go – I pick TRUTH.Truth? – Well, there was only one thing I wanted to know about her, Where are you?I expected there to be a gap before the girl got back to me with some, hopefully very detailed, instructions as to where she was, so I was surprised when my phone buzzed again, opening the new message before my eyes Göztepe Escort Bayan had even taken in the screen.Rather than a message, my phone showed a GPS dot.Not sure if I was allowed to replay this time, I just set off following the blue line outlined by my phone’s mapping app. The way took about ten mins and led to a nice looking apartment block about five stories high, set back secluded from the passing main road.Unfortunately, my progress was barred by a high fence set between me and the building I was aiming for.There would obviously be a gate in it somewhere, but given the rules for the bus stop, I figured this was the place to send the girl a message, OK – I’m at your dot?I DARE you to climb that fence and the fire escape stairs, I looked up, seeing the fire escape for the first time, judging the fence to be about ten feet high, the fourth-floor fire escape door is open; you have ten minutes to complete your DARE, or the fire escape door will be pulled closed.I glanced at the fence, it wasn’t barbwire tipped or anything like that, and I was up and over it in no time, even with my cock distracting the effort.I was more measured taking the fire escape stairs; it was late – well after midnight now – and I was afraid of waking someone and getting caught.Presumably, this was some sort of closed University accommodation – the girl had mentioned that she lived in halls during our encounter on the bus – so maybe they were used by guests taking the back way in, but I didn’t want to risk it. On the fourth floor, I found the fire escape door was subtly pushed open and slipped inside, pulling the bar fired door closed behind me.The corridor was deserted, but there were about a dozen rooms, What room number is yours? I texted the girl.The replay was instant, Silly boy – you should have picked DARE – but the TRUTH is my room is 402.Dare? – I should have dared the girl to do what? – Come out naked to the corridor… shit, I should have dared her to come out naked into the corridor – still, at least I knew what room she was in now.I followed the numbered rooms and pushed at the door to 402, which was on the latch, and I slipped straight in, locking the door behind me as I had with the fire escape. Beside the entrance, there was a closed-door to what I assumed was an en-suite bathroom and beyond that was a large double bedroom, with two single beds pushed against either wall, a pair of small desks set under the window, with various other pieces of future set around the room, for the most part, indistinguishable from one another, due to the piles of women’s clothing scattered all over the room.I took in the room in a single glance before my eyes settled onto the reason I’d made the journey.The girl was sitting crossed-legged on the floor, rather than being dressed for the cold, as she had been when we’d met, she was now dressed for bed; in a thin blue sleeveless strap-top and matching pair of shorts.Both items were almost see-thru, and while I couldn’t exactly make out her body beneath them, I could see that she wasn’t wearing another layer. Her top perfectly framed her, I’d guess, C-cup breasts, which came complete with a pair of very erect nipples and a flat toned stomach.On the bus, I’d only been able to see her beautiful face, grey-blue eyes and blonde hair, but now I took in her entire body, and it was exactly the image of every wank fantasy I’d been living out since we’d met that first time.My eyes settled naturally on her shorts; the way she sat crossed-legged on the floor had pulled the shorts against her lips and clit; just a small twitch with a finger – or the head of a hard cock – would be enough to expose her pussy.The erection I’d been fighting since she’d started texting me won out against my self-control, and I felt myself lengthening inside my jeans.Stepping further into the Escort Göztepe room, it was obvious the girl had been waiting for me and had surely set her pose, perhaps going so far as to make sure her nipples stood out like bullets, even in the sweltering heat of her bedroom.“I was waiting for you,” she said, smiling up at me and taking a sip from the can of cheap cider she’d been drinking from. “I’m glad you came.”Her eyes travelled from my face, assessing my body as I had hers, making me glad I’d been working out hard these past few months.When the girls’ gaze settled on the shape of my only nominally concealed erection, clearly visible as it was through the fabric of my jeans, I felt no embarrassment; she’d seen it before, and I knew had been impressed by what I could bring to the party – it had probably gone some way to earning my invitation over tonight.Trying to stay calm and keep things light and gamey, I said, “I haven’t yet.”The girl sipped her can and again, licking her lips before answering, “No?”I’d caught the flick of her tongue and think I saw a fidget in her posture as she sat.I’d waited long enough – more than four weeks, in fact – so said exactly what was on my mind, “I’ll show you mine If you show me yours.”Her smile was wicked, “Is that a DARE?”“Yes,” the word was out my mouth before I’d even formulated a thought, and I silently cursed myself for not pushing further; would she suck my cock if I dared her too?There wasn’t even a second to change my mind; without hesitation, the girl reached down and pulled her shorts to one side – exactly as I had fantasied of doing – exposing herself to me.Her pussy was small, shaved bald, with wet lips and the bud of her clit sitting prominently above them. She’d talked like a slut on the bus, but that wasn’t the image that greeted me now I could actually see inside her pants.Even from a few paces away, I could see how wet and aroused she was, and even in that state, it was going to be very tight if I was lucky enough to get my cock inside.I might literally have been drooling with lust, which the girl raised another pitch by gently rubbing up and down the lips of pussy; teasing me by letting the barest tip of her index finger slip inside before taking that wet finger and circling it around her clit.My single-mindedness was broken as she pulled her shorts back into place – if barely covering herself could be considered in place.A moan of longing escaped me, which made the girl laugh, drawing my gaze again to her face, although it lingered on her breasts as it made the journey.“You like?” the girl asked; I nodded dumbstruck, which only encouraged her and she sucked on the index finger that had been inside her pussy.“Oh, fuck…” I wanted to use her name but thought better of asking in fear that the spell cast over us would be broken if we knew each other’s names. Instead, I answered, “Yes, I like.”The girl stood, gifting a brief glance at her pussy again, with her change of posture, which also pulled the blue top tighter against her breasts, revealing they were bigger than I’d previously guessed at; certainly large enough to bring my cock off.Silently, I added, Tit Wank, to the list of DAREs I’d been compiling since she’d flashed me her pussy, and I truly understood just how far she was willing to take our game.From one of the piles of clothes, the girl plucked a long thin satin scarf, holding it up for me to see, asking, “Hands or eyes?”Hands or eyes? – God, I thought I’d known torment before, but this took its meaning to a level I’d never imaged; to see and not to touch or to feel and be blind?“Hands,” I answered.The girl smiled wickedly at my choice; whether she thought I’d made the correct one wasn’t obvious, but from my perspective, I didn’t believe there was a wrong option.“OK,” she said, “I DARE you…”I had my own dirty smile and cut across her, “No, I think it’s my turn,” my list of DARE’s for her would now reach a second if written down, and I wanted to start ticking items off, “I answered your question.”She smiled, pulling out one of the desk chairs and turning it to face me. “Exactly,” she chided me, “that was a question; I didn’t say TRUTH or DARE.”