e bats an eye when he collapses into the back seat, the one right over the engine, where the vibrations hum through you like a pulse. You slide in beside him, your skirt riding up just enough to

, subtle, tugging your skirt higher, and spread your thighs just enough to invite him in. He gets the hint, his breath hot against your skin as he ducks under the hem of your skirt, hiding himself in the shadows. His tongue finds you f

he ads plastered across it-some bullshit about car insuran

a hand under your thighs and pulls your sticky panties

ing you closer to the edge. You lift your ass an inch, giving him room to work, sprea

moving faster, hungrier, lapping at you like he's starving. When a low growl rumbles from his throat, and you pat his head, your voice a breathy whisper: "Dont worry daddy, we're almost at the ho

hips one last time, giving him full access as the bus shudders to a stop. The orgasm hits like a wave, crashing through you, and you let out a sharp, "Stop! Stop!"-half comman

down, nudging your companion's head out from under it. He sits up, lips glistening, eyes dazed, like he's the one who just got wrecked. You flash him a smirk, all naughty and horny, and