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We exchanged pleasantries and she settled down. That’s when I had a good look at her. Man! She was not the girl who was back in college. She was now a hot chick. Her stats were (34-30-32) damn firm boobs and really curvy ass.She has a dusky skin tone which makes her even more attractive. I suddenly started to feel uneasy. I just looked around the seats were empty. I was wondering why did she book a seat near a male passenger. I thought maybe in the upcoming stops the bus might get full.Maybe by the time she booked her ticket, all the other seats would have been occupied. We were in the second last row. And behind us there was nobody. There was just one passenger right in front of me. And no passengers in the seat beside us. Rest of the passengers were in the front rows.I knew she had a boyfriend back in school and she wasn’t a virgin. I really didn’t know anything else about her. So we started chatting with each other. Around 8 the bus stopped for dinner. We had our dinner together. “Babe, you must get used to calling Greg, your husband.”“I know Steve, I’m sorry, I am trying; I just forget sometimes but I really am trying.”“You must get into the habit of it, babe.”“I know and I am sorry for forgetting. I am Greg’s wife. You and I are just friends! There how’s that?”“Better, but you must be more convincing,” I laughed.She took a large gulp of Greg’s special yellow drink.“Steve, why is it so important to you that I call Greg, my husband and that he calls me his wife?”I took her hand and explained.“Not being able to see you naked is torture for me; not being able to touch you is torture for me.”She squeezed my hand and I continued, “Every day. I picture what lingerie you are wearing and realize that I have probably never seen you in that lingerie and that is torture for me.”“I’m so sorry Steve,” Christy said in a sorry voice.“Let me continue babe, I have no idea what your pussy looks like now that you have hairs and that is torture for me; knowing that I can’t touch.
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Finally, we were all done, fucked, shagged out. Stillon top of me he rubbed my belly and smiled. I knewwhat he was thinking. As we finally went our separate ways, us with hisphone number, him with the false one, we were carefulto have him to drop us off away from our house. ***Two months later, we rang him and met him in a pub, heimmediately assumed the dominant role again, sendinghubby to the bar, me sitting next to him, his armaround me.As he stroked my tummy, with my hubby sat opposite, Ibroke the news. He had gotten me pregnant. “OhMichelle,’ he said enthusiastically. “that’s grandnews.” He began to firmly caressing my knees andthighs, blatantly in front of Mike who although quiet,looked as if he had expected this all along. He reallydidn’t seem to mind. Norman, my stranger, spent the rest of the nightstroking my stockinged thighs, caressing me, rubbingmy belly, telling us how wonderful it was to have putsomeone as pretty as me in the family.

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