Page 89 of Only One Tour Bus

“The windows are tinted.” I move aside her hair and kiss her neck. “And high above the ground.” I slide my hands up her thighs and bunch her dress up at her waist, pushing aside her underwear so I can touch her clit. “And no one is going to be here for the next twenty minutes, at least.” With my one free hand, I tilt her head so I can kiss her.

She moans into my mouth and tries to grab my head, but I force her hand back to holding the seat I want to touch her this time, and I might lose it if she touches me. It’s already exciting enough doing it in semi-public, even though this bus is safe from prying eyes, and we’re parked in a side street without much traffic.

I grind against her with my erection as I kiss her and play with her, enjoying this bus more than I ever have in the past.

When she’s wet and panting, I remove my hands to undo my trousers. She moans a little in loss and tries to scoot back to me. I thrust against her once more before pulling back so I can get the condom I optimistically put in my pocket earlier, lower my trousers, and put the condom on.

Ready, I pull her back toward me and push her dress up again. I’m so grateful she’s always wearing these things instead of trousers, it makes for much easier access. I push her underwear aside and slide into her. I adjust her hips so it’s easier to enter her, and groan when I’m all the way in.

I pause for a second with my hand on Asha’s shoulder, hearing the distant sounds of people as I feel her heat envelope me. Then I start thrusting, slowly first and then faster, as Asha brace herself on the bus seat.

“Yes, tell me how much you want me,” I say.

“I want you,” she says, her words broken as she strains against me, searching for her own orgasm.

“Tell me how much you need this.” I start playing with her clit again, and she lowers her head to rest it on the seat which pushes her hips more toward me.

“I need it. I need you. Make me come,” she begs.

“Anything you want, Wee Sunshine.” I grab her hand and direct her to her clit so she can play with herself while I grab her hips better in the tight bus seat. I thrust harder now, starting to feel the tingling in my balls telling me I’m about to come.

But not without her.

I slow my pace until I feel the resulting tension in her, and then she comes, spasming around my dick. Then I let go, increasing my pace until I’m coming as well.

I collapse on the seat, pulling Asha back into me so I can kiss her and caress her ass as I smooth her dress down.

“Best…trip…ever,” she says on a laugh.

I smack her ass, because it’s right there, but I don’t contradict her.

This just might be the best trip ever.

After we catch our breath and clean up, we return to the front of the bus, where we wait for the group, and Laura, to come back. Which they eventually do, unfortunately. Interrupting my time sneaking cuddles with the woman I’m slowly becoming as obsessed with as I am with history.

“The sooner we get into the bus, the sooner we can eat dinner. In Florence, y’all. Gelato will be involved,” Asha greets the tired tourists as she cheerfully ushers them onto the bus. Cheerfully, but still a little flushed from what we were doing earlier.

“Everyone is here on time. I’m impressed,” I whisper at Asha as we finish loading the suitcases, giving her a compliment I know she’ll appreciate.

“I told you…best group ever!” Asha manages to make an “I told you so” seem less irritating and more charming than if it had come from someone else.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Despite the fact that this group is shaping up to be better than most. The lawyers came back from Milan and are on the bus, everyone’s been on time, and no one has gotten significantly lost or arrested.

Maybe the rest of the trip won’t be that bad.

Why did I speak too soon? I just sang the praises of this group and now this.

“Don’t say anything,” Asha says from her position in front of me as we wander the streets of Florence at one in the morning.

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You’re thinking it. I can hear you from here; it’s very loud.”

“You can’t actually control how I think, like some sort of wee adorable thought police.”

“I can try.”

I sigh. “Are they answering the phone?”