T’aint Room


I’m in the middle of the row of seats at the back of the bus. It’s always standing-room-only by the time we leave downtown. I prefer the back corner seats, so I can turn away from the crowd and look out the window, but that’s a rare luxury.

Next to last stop, and everybody squeezes in. I’ve already got a woman next to me on my right, and then another coming down the aisle sets her eyes on the seat to my left. Gripping my phone, I rig in my shoulders and knees as she rotates her ass and settles in.

The same old tight fit, cheek to cheek to cheek. Any closer and we’d be spooning. No eye contact, okay? Just keep looking at your phone…

The new arrival won’t stop fidgeting. Did she sit on a bottle cap or something? I’m just scrolling through the same tweet re-tweeted by everyone else, pretending not to notice that she’s staring at me now. I close my eyes as she takes a deep breath just before she starts it up.

“Do you have to take up so much space?” she says.

“Excuse me?” I reply.

“We’re all keeping our legs together, why can’t you?”


“Don’t Ma’am me. Just squeeze in like the rest of us.”

“My legs are as close together as I can get ‘em.”

“Just look at them! There’s at least four inches between your knees. Mine are touching each other. So are hers.”

“Yeah, well, if I touched my knees together my balls would be crushed.”

“Bull. They’d just sit on top of your thighs.”

“If you had ’em, you’d know that’s not how it works.”

“I’ve seen plenty. They just lift up out of the way.”

“That’s like saying when you fold your arms your tits drape over your shoulders.”

“What a pig! We’re all trying to make the best of the situation, and you’d rather be rude than do your part.”

“Look, I’m squeezing in as much as I can. I just can’t pulverize my scrotum all they way out of the city.”

“How big could your balls actually be, anyway?”

That’s it. I raise my phone, swipe till I find the new app I just downloaded, lean back until I have all of her in frame, then slowly slide my fingers together until they’re almost touching. By that point, we’re a little less crammed on the back seat, because the woman to my left is only two inches tall.

I drop my phone into my shirt pocket, then reach down and sweep the shrunken woman into my hand. I raise her up level with my chest. She’s sitting in my open palm, her arms and legs spread as wide as possible, desperate to keep her balance. With my other hand, I unbuckle my pants and open my briefs.

“Why don’t you have a look,” I says, “and you can tell me if there’s room for me to close my legs any tighter.”

Her undignified yelp as she tumbles into my briefs and under my balls makes me smile. The woman to my right peers judgmentally into my crotch, then gives an approving nod.

I buckle back up as we reach the last stop downtown. A dude as big as a linebacker gets on and starts heading for the back.

Gonna be a long commute.

Originally posted:  02 Nov 2016

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