I do the odd bit of ogling, or I have the odd horny thought, but I generally don’t get erect in public. I’ve never been so turned-on that I’ve been in danger of spontaneously cumming without touching myself. Except, dear reader, for one time: a time I got so hard that I almost pulled my trousers down in public, and a time I got so horny that I almost came in my pants. This is that story.

A summer’s day in a small university city in England: warm but not hot. I was sitting in a bus that was rumbling and rattling its way around campus before heading towards the city centre. My seat was one at the front of the bus, seemingly designed to ensure that the passenger feels every jolt and judder. My rucksack was on my lap, and I was staring into space and wishing that the bus would get a move on. Even though it was a double-decker, the bus was already standing room only.

Until, that is, we got to the final stop at the edge of campus. We jolted to a stop; the door opened, and several yellow blurs entered one after another. Three. Four. Six. Eight. This caught my attention, and I blinked a few times, and a women’s sports team came into view. They were standing in front of me, a few were sitting on the steps, but the crowding of the bus meant they couldn’t move any further back.

They were already in their match outfits: a loose-fitting shiny yellow top, with their team numbers on, and black compression shorts. Each one was tall, slim, and elegant. Their legs were muscular, as you might expect, and the curves were accentuated by the sun playing on their skin. My eyes, travelling upwards, took in their thick thighs and their shorts. Those things were tight. So tight that nothing was left to the imagination; some girls were facing me, and others facing away from me, so I got a good view of everything. My eyes skipped over their tops to their faces: pretty without exception and immaculately made up. They wore their hair long, and it waved and swayed with the motion of the bus.

I observed all this in about two seconds. The fact that several pairs of large buttocks were pointing at my face, and within touching distance, was very, very exciting. My eyes swivelled this way and that, trying to take in every detail at once. I felt weak as all the blood rushed to my cock.

In a nanosecond, a million images rushed through my brain. I saw my hand reaching out and squeezing their asses. I saw myself grabbing their hips, thrusting my cock at their still-clothed buttocks and cumming instantly — or else pressing my face into their compression shorts. I saw myself with my head trapped between those muscular thighs, my penis throbbing and flailing helplessly as they watched, laughed, and teased. I saw myself in their changing room, post-match, on my knees with tongue out as each one took turns to “force” me to lick the sweat from their asscracks and armpits.

Two things happened. The first was that I started getting hard. Luckily, I had my rucksack in my lap; unfortunately, it was very heavy. So, my cock was squashed between my legs and my trousers, with my rucksack pressing down on it; it throbbed, rubbed against the fabric and the stimulation made it throb even more. The second thing was that the bus got stuck at the traffic lights. Now that we were sitting in traffic, the bus was gently vibrating, and I could feel it in my entire body. But most significantly, I was sitting with my legs apart to accommodate the rucksack, which meant all those vibrations could go straight up my ass.

So, there I was. 1) Staring at some of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen. 2) Thinking a million dirty thoughts. 3) My penis caught in an arousal feedback loop. 4) Anally stimulated thanks to the vibration of the bus. My breath was quickening. My eyes were still darting around — ass to ass, face to face, groin to groin — but also involuntarily rolling up now. I knew what was coming; I could feel the orgasm building, and I could feel the cum rising.

I didn’t want to cum in my pants; I didn’t want to cum in public. But in the same moment, it felt so bloody good that I didn’t care! The aftermath would be a problem for future me. My fate was in the hands of the universe.

The bus jolted forwards. I slid forwards in my seat; my bag almost fell to the floor. The girls grabbed onto each other and the ceiling straps, giggling with the sudden adrenaline. And I took a few deep breaths: the moment was over, the spell was broken, and my boxers were safe. I breathed a sigh of relief, tinged with a little disappointment. My penis went back to sleep, the girls got off at the next stop, and my thoughts shifted back to normal life.

Nothing like that has happened to me since. Perhaps it will one day; I have plenty more commutes ahead.