For years now, I have been driving a school bus in a little town 25 miles south of Chicago. It’s the perfect gig, really. I get up early and put in a couple hours of work; then, most of the bright day is mine to enjoy. I put in a couple more hours in the afternoon, and for this, I get benefits, steady pay, and summers off.

On my route, I meet all kinds of parents every day. Most of my stops are filled with young moms in their pajamas. One of my stops, however, is a cute little cottage on the outskirts of town. The best part of this stop is the young dad, Kevin, who waits with his daughter every morning. When I arrive, he always makes small talk with me as his daughter makes her way back to her seat. He has tortured artist good looks, and he’s always dressed and awake when I show up at his home.

“You’re always leaving so soon, Penny” he said to me one day.
“I’ll have to take a pit stop some time so we can talk,” I said. I couldn’t believe I said it. I mean, every morning all I could think about was rolling up to Kevin and seeing his gorgeous face, but I had never let it slip that the very site of him made me wet for the rest of my shift. His response made me lose any regret about what I had said.

“You can stop here anytime, Penny. Really, anytime,” he emphasized.

After my shift that morning, I headed to the local café where I ordered my usual. When the waitress, my friend Betty, came over with my breakfast, I asked her what she knew about Kevin, the hot young daddy on my route.

“Is he single?” I asked.

“No, his wife is some big shot lawyer in the city,” Betty said. “She leaves every morning and doesn’t come home ‘til late if she comes home at all.”

“And you know this how?”

“Every woman in this county wants to know what that doting dad is doing without a wife at his side every minute of the day. He comes in for breakfast once in a while, and I ask questions.”

Betty and I chatted while I finished my food, but all I thought about was what Betty had said—that Kevin was home every day by himself, no wife, no kid.

“He’s a photographer,” Betty had said. I could definitely see myself posing for some dirty pictures with him.

That night I came home to the usual pile of mail on the floor. My husband was too lazy to pick it up. While I was flipping through the envelopes I came across one letter with my husband’s name written in girly script. The I’s in his name were dotted with little bubble hearts. I thought one of his nieces or nephews had sent him a letter, but when I opened the envelope, a dozen naked photos of some red-headed slut fell onto the floor.

She was nasty. This was clear from the way she posed. She wanted my loser husband to see her snatch from every possible fucking perspective. I suspected he had been cheating, but I could never find proof. He kept his email and chat sessions under strict password restrictions.

Can’t wait to meet you again in real life, a letter with the pictures said. My husband was a fucking asshole. I had known this for years. Seeing this whore splattered all over the floor of my living room drove me over the edge. I decided I had to blow off some steam.

When my husband came home, he saw the pictures I had left strewn all over the carpet. He tried to apologize, but I told him to save it. He knew better than to come to bed. Instead he stayed on the couch. I got up in the morning to go through my usual work routine. I daydreamed through everything until I rolled up to Kevin. He was smiling as usual with his wavy brown hair blowing in the wind.

“Where’s my morning smile,” Kevin asked me as his daughter boarded the bus. “I don’t think I can make it through my day without it.”

Attention from him made a subtle smile emerge on my lips.

“There it is, but something still seems wrong. Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

I thought of my freeloading, cheating husband and decided to make a move on Kevin.

“Too much to talk about now,” I nodded toward the kids in the bus, “but I’d love to have someone to talk to.” Kevin looked away for a second and then right back to me.

“I would love that too, Penny,” he said. “Why don’t you meet me at Denny’s after your shift? I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

For the rest of my morning drive, I was floating on air. I knew I’d be meeting Kevin soon for more than just a few words while a bunch of kids listened. I met him at Denny’s just as he had suggested. He ordered us coffees and asked what was bothering me.

I let the whole story spill out. For two hours I told him about my husband, the fuck-head, and his secret slut. I told him how much I wanted to get revenge on my husband. I searched for some kind of clue in his face. I wanted to know if he understood what I was warming up to, but he never made a move.

Soon, we were walking out to our cars. As he held the door of my car open for me, I turned around and planted a big wet sloppy kiss on his mouth. To my surprise and ecstasy, he kissed me back! He kissed like he was losing control. He pressed deep down onto my mouth. It felt so good, I could have cum right there in the parking lot, but instead I pulled back, smiled, and looked right into his eyes.

“Want to go back to your place?” I asked him.

He nodded yes. We raced back to his place. Nervous adrenaline rushed through my body and fired me up for what I was about to do. As much of an asshole as my husband was, I had never cheated on him. I had always wanted to, but I never felt right about it. As I pulled up to Kevin’s house and watched him get out of his car, I knew I could not wait to give myself to him.

I followed him around to the back porch, and we entered his house through the sliding glass doors. Kevin turned around.

“Take off your shirt,” he said.

“What?” Even though I knew what we had come here to do, I was still taken aback by his forceful words.

“I have wanted to say that since the first time I laid eyes on you,” Kevin said. “Your tits make up most of my daydreams.”

I smiled. The nicest thing Brian ever said to me was that I sucked a good dick. I took my shirt off and let my big tits bounce. Kevin immediately bent slightly so that he could suckle my breast. My pussy grew even wetter.

“Oh, Kevin,” I said, “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.”

Without saying a word, he unzipped my jean shorts and pulled them down around my ankles. I stepped out of them and Kevin looked me up and down. He took off his own shirt.

“Get on the bed,” he told me, and he grabbed his camera.

“Let’s get your husband back,” he said.

He had me pose in seductive positions as he snapped away.

“If you really want to make him jealous,” Kevin said, “you need to really feel like a raunchy slut.”

I spread my legs and pulled my underwear to the side to reveal my snatch. I looked right into the camera’s lens. “I am a raunchy slut, Kevin. Take your pants off.”

Kevin put his camera down, unzipped his pants, and let them fall to the floor.

“When’s the last time your husband licked your pussy?” he asked.

I didn’t answer. He hadn’t licked my pussy since before we were married, but I didn’t want to admit it. Kevin made a few arrangements on his camera and set it on the edge of a dresser. Then he came over the bed, moved my underwear over like I had done, and he licked my pussy as his camera flashed away. His tongue woke my vagina. I writhed and moaned in ecstasy. After about ten-minutes of mind-blowing oral sex, Kevin climbed on top of me and shoved his long hard cock inside of me. Immediately, he shuddered. “Oh my fuck,” he kept repeating. I stared at his gorgeous body. I had never fucked someone so attractive in my life. He had six-pack abs. He looked down at me and met my eyes.

“Your tits are so beautiful,” he whispered. “Your pussy is so fucking tight.”

I thrust against his pelvis. I wanted his cock further and further inside of me. For years I had dreamt about fucking Kevin, and now that I was, he was as good as I had imagined.

He waited for me to cum. I moaned. “Oh, Kevin, Kevin,” I screamed in between licking his erect nipples.

When I was done, he let himself explode cum first inside of me then all over my tits and face. I immediately tried to lick his salty jiz from my lips, but he stopped me. He picked up his camera. I posed with his cum dripping from my tits and face. I looked into the camera and gave Kevin a satisfied smile.

I went back to my home, and for days the smile did not leave my face. My husband spoke and I ignored him. One day I came home to a manila file on the kitchen table. The pictures of my day as a raunchy slut were splayed all over the table. Kevin had sent them to my husband. I looked through the shots. There was one of Kevin eating my pussy and another of his cum stuck to my swollen tits.

I smiled and let him know how grateful I was when I saw him the next morning.

Kevin and I still see each other every morning when his daughter gets on my bus. We share a few friendly words. On some days, he picks me up after my shift and we have crazy sex. Sometimes he takes pictures. He brings out the raunchy slut in me. Dirty illicit sex is just another one of the many perks of being a bus driver.