Erotic Flash Fiction, January 2015: On a London bus

I thought I was the only person sitting on the top floor of the double-decker. But a muffled sound behind me made me wonder. It was a night bus. I was immersed in the mysteries of the crime novel I was reading. I heard the sound again. It was a gasp, a rustle. Like the sudden sprint of a frightened mouse across the carpet. Distracted, I turned my head to find out indeed that I was not on my own. There were two other passengers on the upper deck. A young woman sat on one of the back seats with her legs spread out in the air. She was wearing leopard print stilettos. In front of her, on his knees, a man was pulling to the side the front of the woman’s panties, showing under her tight mini-skirt. He was smartly dressed. He pushed his head towards her, sticking his tongue out. Neither of them made eye contact with me but it was obvious that they were aware I was looking. The woman gasped again arching her head backwards.  When I saw the young man’s tongue reaching the woman’s exposed vulva, I turned my head and returned to my book. What happened next was very quick. The bell for a bus stop rang and the couple dashed past me.  As they went down the stairs, the man looked down coyly, visibly flustered. Behind him, the woman kept her chin up. Half-glancing at me, she fixed her hair, pushing her fingers through her big afro. Defiant.