Shooting Beavers
This is a work of fiction so there was no need to change the names because this never happened but I’d love to have been the central figure in this story. I wrote 100% of this single chapter story.

I have been told that my sexual maturity was frozen at the age of 13 when I shot my first beaver. NO, this is not a hunting story, at that age all guys had this fantasy of looking up a girl or woman’s skirt and seeing their panties. And if luck was on their side they would shoot the ultimate beaver if they were not wearing panties. And of course way back in the late 1950’s a shaved pussy was something that didn’t happen that much, if at all.

So now that you understand that I have the sexual maturity of a teenager because I have this compulsion to look up a woman’s skirt and still reach the pinnacle of that fetish by shooting a bare beaver. And today I not only got a good look up a skirt but the woman knew it and provided some inspiration for my immature mind.

My car was in the repair shop so instead of commuting in my vehicle I took the city bus. I am not very excited about city bus travel because it seems that it is always crowded and filthy dirty. But surprisingly this afternoon I got on a fairly new bus that was clean. And to top it off it was nearly empty making the ride a little less tense.

I was tapping on my smart phone trying to answer some e-mail when I felt the bus lurch to a stop and of course there was the noise of departing and arriving passengers. I didn’t bother to look up from my phone until the bus started to move and casually looked down the aisle towards the center of the bus.

A young woman, probably late 20’s was setting a few rows back. Her long blond hair flowed onto her black shirt that was unsnapped in the front revealing her beautiful cleavage. I tried not to stare but her tits were pushed up and revealed the most seductive cleavage one could imagine.

She was looking out a side window so my gaze lingered on her beautiful form. She had on a short white skirt and pink platform high heeled shoes. Her bare legs were pressed together hiding my view between her legs. I tried to imagine what must lie between her beautiful bare legs.

I felt my cock spring to life as I anticipated the possibility that I could catch her relaxing those legs and getting a peek up her skirt. The bus bumped along the city streets and as it would hit a bump her legs would part slightly, but never enough to give me a full view.

Then she turned to face me and caught me looking at her. I don’t know how long she had been looking at me because my eyes were riveted to her knees and her milky white legs that vanished below the gentle folds of her skirt. When I became aware she was looking at me I casually dropped my eyes to my phone again trying to pretend I was not looking at her intently.