Adam's List(64)

“Raise your hand if your buddy isn’t on the bus!” the woman at the front of the bus announces.

“My buddy’s definitely on the bus,” I whisper in Adam’s ear, tugging him carefully.

“And he’s a big guy.”

I kiss him again, stronger, more urgent as his fingers trail their way to the spot that’s already wet and pounding, begging him to enter. His thumb swipes up and down at the edge of my thong before pushing it aside to freely caress me.

“Okay, we’re off to our next stop!” the woman calls joyfully over the speaker system.

The bus crawls forward. The other couples on board shout and whistle excitedly. The aisle lights turn off, making it dark in the bus except for the bright lights from outside.

It’s the most intoxicating, sensual moment of my life. I’m in my favorite city, doing something that’s so wrong with someone who feels incredibly right.

Once I’m good and wet, his smooth fingers, soft and gentle against my tender skin, press up inside of me. I’ve been craving him for so long today that I already feel ready to climax. I bite down on his lip to keep from moaning loudly.

I gasp into his mouth instead, nearly forgetting to keep my own hand in motion. His breaths turn hot and heavy, becoming faster and faster with each of my carefully paced tugs. I feel his hips swaying ever so slightly with my strokes as he reaches the height of arousal.

My senses are electrified by his delightfully masculine smell, sounds of his raspy breaths, the delectable taste of his sweet tongue, the way his fingers brush and prod, the tender look on his face when I dare to open my eyes. I’ve never wanted anyone so badly.

“Goddamn,” he whispers, biting at my ear lobe. “I really want inside of you.”

I don’t have to be told twice. Moving quickly, I shift my hips and yank his hand away to make room for me before he can protest. I’m so wet and primed for action that he slips inside of me without any problem, though I do let out a soft squeal into his mouth from the sheer girth of him. Adam gasps deeply. Rocking my pelvis with slow, precise movements, I push my hips down until I can feel his large tip filling me. He groans into my mouth, his clutch on my butt cheeks tightening. He frees a hand to cradle one of my breasts, kneading the nipple between his fingers.

Amidst laughter, animated conversations, and the overwhelming stench of booze, Adam and I have sex for the first time. It’s so much better than in a hotel room or the back of the pickup where there’s time for reflection and moments of pause. There’s a hot kind of disconnection being out in public, and I love it. In this moment we are boundless, nothing more than lovers.

Adam Murphy has given me all there is to offer of himself, and it’s every bit as amazing as my deepest fantasies could imagine.

I limit my thrusts, trying not to make what we’re doing in the back of the bus so obvious. Our mouths sealed together dull the sounds of our enduring, passion-fueled cries. Adam’s grasp on me becomes so tight, I know he’s getting ready to explode.

He breaks the contact of our mouths to whisper with a gulp, “Damn it, I’m gonna come.”

“It’s good. I have an IUD.” I add a harder thrust of my hips, allowing him to go extra deep.

He sucks hard on my bottom lip and trembles in my arms, releasing into me with a quick, stuttered breath before burring his face in the curve of my neck, panting. I let out a satisfied sigh and tangle my fingers in his thick hair, cradling his sweaty head against my chest.

“You just had sex on a bus,” I whisper among a giggle. “How’s that for your list?”

For the rest of the short ride, I snuggle against Adam, locking my right hand with his.

He methodically rubs my arms, sometimes stopping to kiss the side of my head. The realization that I’m completely smitten with him washes over me. How can someone so beautiful and fun to be around be single, and all mine?

I wish there was a way to make time stop so this night would never have to end.

Having sex with Adam ignited all the senses that have been asleep inside of me for so long. Although it wasn’t sweet and tender, it’s something I’ve been wanting to do ever since we first met, and we’ve made the kind of ultimate connection that can’t be undone.

If anyone caught on to what the mysterious couple was doing in the back of the bus, they either don’t let on, or just really don’t care. Maybe they’ve seen it before. We exit among the other passengers without anyone gaping or stopping us, following the crowd into a low-lit Irish pub.

The raw, amped sounds of a live band are a total delight to my ears. The large pub, packed with patrons like sardines in a can, smells as if someone soaked old gym socks in whiskey. The line for the bar is at least three four in some places. Three redheaded waitresses dressed in tight blouses run back and forth beneath the flags of Ireland, taking money and passing out drinks with tight, stressed-out smiles.