Knight Bus Cockwarming Ride

The Knight Bus arrived like a personal insult. One second the curb outside the party hall was empty under a yellow streetlamp. The next, a lurid purple triple-decker slammed into the gap between a mailbox and a parked carriage, brakes screaming, windows rattling, the whole absurd vehicle vibrating as if the magic holding it together had a grudge.

Cassidy, twenty-four, still in the silver party dress that punished her every time she sat, caught her boyfriend's sleeve and laughed until she hiccuped. Terrence, twenty-six, solid where the night was not, shouldered their bag and steered her toward the steps. Behind them came Warrick, twenty-eight, already grinning like the chaos had been booked in his name, and Elise, twenty-five, who had spent the walk from the hall promising to leave the bus a review so scathing it would need a healer.

None of them had drunk. Cassidy had waved off every floating tray at the party, and the other three had followed because the last Knight Bus of the night did not wait for a second glass. They were sober, bright-eyed, and still buzzing from dancing, a dangerous mood on a vehicle famous for trying to launch its riders into the next county.

The conductor, a wiry man named Hollis with a ticket punch and the stare of lifelong public transit, took their fares without blinking. "Back bed's free," he said. "Light load tonight. Hold on to something that isn't me."

They climbed into the lower deck. It was nearly empty, curtains drawn on unused bunks, and at the rear a wide bed shuddered against the wall, already humming. The idle traveled up through the floor and into the mattress in a constant, indecent shiver. Cassidy felt it in her teeth.

"One bed," Elise said, delighted. "Friendship or a misdemeanor. I can live with either."

"We've shared worse couches," Warrick said, and dropped onto the outer edge.

They piled in. Cassidy ended up between Terrence and the wall, silver hem riding high, Elise and Warrick claiming the rest, knees knocking, shoulders jammed. The mattress would not sit still. Every panel buzzed. When the vibration found the insides of Cassidy's thighs and stayed there, her laugh came out thinner than she meant.

She put her mouth to Terrence's ear and offered it like a joke that had already voted yes. "Cockwarming. You stay buried in me. I stay sweet and still. We pretend we're civilized while this carnival ride does its worst."

Terrence went quiet in the way that meant every thought in his head had just put on a uniform. Elise made a noise like a kettle hitting boil. Warrick failed to hide his grin.

"On a bus," Terrence said.

"On a bed," Cassidy said, "on a bus already doing half the work. Unless you're scared of a little public transit."

The Knight Bus hit the street like it had a feud with the pavement. It twisted around the first corner so hard the bed slid, jumped a seam in the road, and slammed back down in a bone-rattling crash that punched a yelp out of Elise.

Terrence's arm locked around Cassidy's waist. Her silver dress was already rucked high, and the laugh in her throat had a shake that wasn't only the bus. "Well?" she said. "You going to make me ride this empty, or be useful?"

"Say it plain," he murmured at her neck. "I want the words."

"I want your cock in me," she said, clear enough for the whole bed. "Cockwarming. You stay deep. I stay still. Allegedly. Yes?"

"Yes." His mouth warmed her skin. "Elise. Warrick. You good if we—"

"If you don't, I'll be personally offended," Elise said, braced on the bedframe, eyes bright. "We're right here. We can see. We are choosing to see. Entertain us."

"Consenting audience," Warrick added, grinning. "Try not to kick me when it jumps."

Cassidy shoved her panties aside and Terrence freed himself from his pants with the clumsy haste of a zipper and a moving vehicle. He was hard. The vibration had been doing reconnaissance since they sat down. She reached back, wrapped her fingers around him, and guided the thick head through her slick while the bus swayed like a bad idea of geometry.

"In," she said. "All the way. Then we behave."

He pushed in on a downward slam, and the timing was so filthy she cried out and then laughed at herself. He sank deep until his hips were flush to her ass and she was full in the way that made thought go stupid. Spooned, back to his chest, his cock buried to the hilt, they were supposed to stay still. A joke. Civilized.

The Knight Bus had not read the joke.

A twist rolled him inside her, a slow grind she hadn't ordered and immediately craved. She clenched without meaning to. Terrence groaned into her hair, half laugh, half wrecked. A jump lifted the bed out of the reasonable world. The slam that followed drove him deeper, and her body clutched around him like greed. She squirmed to resettle. The squirm dragged her along his length in a slick, helpless slide. He swore, palm spread over her belly, shaking with the effort of not thrusting.

"Still warming," he managed.

"Liar," Elise said, chin on her fist, watching like a menace. "Her face just published a novel."

"Left turn's the sequel," Warrick said. "I can feel the bus wanting it."

The bus wanted it. A constant mean buzz traveled through the frame into his cock and through her cunt until her thighs trembled and her breath broke into short, surprised sounds. Every twist ground him against the sweet spot. Every jump lifted them. Every slam dropped them back together, his cock kissing the deepest part of her while she failed, spectacularly, to stay still. She was soaking him. Hidden under the roar, her body fluttered around his thickness, voting yes with every lurch. On the next slam his hips gave a tiny, traitorous thrust, and her laugh broke into a moan she didn't catch.

"More," she begged, breathless, laughter tangled with the moan. "Please. Move. Mean it."

He laughed, ragged, already gripping her hip. "Yes. Turn. Ride me. Use the buck."

Cassidy swung a leg over and settled reverse on his lap, facing the foot of the bed, his cock sliding back into her in one hot, wet glide that made both of them curse. Reverse cowgirl. She caught the rail at the foot of the bed, knuckles white, knees spread on the shuddering mattress, ass tipped back so he could see every inch of himself disappearing into her.

"There," she said, breathless and grinning over her shoulder. "If this thing bucks, I buck with it. Don't you dare go polite on me."

"Polite left at the curb," Terrence said. His hands found her hips and locked there. "You feel unreal. So tight. So wet I can hear it over the engine."

"Good," she said, and sank the rest of the way down until she was seated flush, full to the limit, a broken little laugh shaking out of her. "Then fuck me like the timetable's a suggestion."

The Knight Bus vibrated under them, a relentless buzz that traveled up the frame, through the mattress, into her clit and along the thick length buried inside her. She rolled her hips once, experimentally, and the vibration turned the roll into something mean and perfect. Terrence groaned. His fingers flexed on her hips.

Then the bus twisted.

The corner came out of nowhere, a hard magical wrench that threw the whole rear of the vehicle sideways. Cassidy braced, arms locked, and the twist ground her down on him in a filthy circle she couldn't have planned. He thrust up to meet it, hard, hips snapping off the mattress, and the two motions collided in a bright shock of pleasure that yanked a shout out of her.

"Oh—yes—do that again, do it when it—"

It jumped.

For a heartbeat they were weightless, his cock dragging almost out of her, the head catching at her entrance. Then the slam. The Knight Bus crashed down and Terrence slammed up into her at the same instant, burying himself to the hilt, and Cassidy's cry broke into laughter, ridiculous and perfect.

"Again," she demanded, riding back onto him, finding a rhythm that had nothing to do with grace and everything to do with the bus's bad manners. She bounced. The mattress bounced. Every vibration shivered through her cunt and up her spine. She clenched around him on purpose now, milking him, and he answered with a thrust that knocked the breath out of her in the best way.

"Look at you," Elise called, delighted, one hand over her own mouth like that would make her quieter. It did not. "Using the rail like a professional. Ten points to whatever house fucks on buses."

"Form could be tighter," Warrick said, and then the bus lurched and he had to grab Elise to keep from sliding off the bed, both of them cackling. "Ignore me. Form is inspired. Terrence, match the next one. I can hear it coming."

They all heard it: the rising keen of the engine, the magical hitch that meant the Knight Bus was about to do something unwise. Cassidy set her knees wider. Terrence's grip turned bruising, possessive, wonderful. "Hold on," he said, voice gone to gravel. "I'm not letting the road get there first."

The bus jumped a rise and slammed down so hard the bedframe shrieked. Terrence thrust up hard, matching the lurch, and Cassidy took it with a broken, laughing moan, ass slapping back against his hips, the wet sound of her cunt obscene between engine roars. He did it again. And again. Twist, and he ground deep. Turn, and she rolled, crying out. Jump, and she rose. Slam, and he fucked up into her like he meant to dent the timetable.

"Filthy," Elise cheered, practically bouncing herself. "That's disgusting. Do it louder."

"You're both unwell," Warrick said warmly, "and I have never been prouder of my friends. Cassidy, your laugh is a public service."

Cassidy was past clever answers. Pleasure coiled hot and huge every time the vibration met a thrust, every time his cock stroked that deep place and the bus piled on another slam for free. Sweat slicked her spine. She rode him harder, reverse and greedy, using the rail, using the chaos, using him.

"Terrence," she gasped. "I'm—close—don't stop, match it, match the—"

"I've got you," he said, and he did. He gripped her hips and thrust up in time with the vehicle's worst ideas, filthy and hilarious and so good her eyes watered with laughter. The bus twisted through a roundabout like it hated circles. He ground with it, and she clenched so hard he snarled her name. A jump. A slam. Another. Elise whooped. Warrick clapped off-beat and called them legends. The rear of the bus smelled like sex and ozone.

"Come with me," Cassidy begged, voice breaking into a giggle that didn't make it less desperate. "On the next one. I can feel it. Terrence, please, come with me when it slams—"

"Yes," he gritted. "Yes. Take it. Take all of it."

The Knight Bus gathered itself, vibrated like a struck bell, twisted hard to the left, jumped a crooked junction, and slammed back to earth with its signature lurching violence.

They broke with it.

Terrence thrust up hard and stayed buried, pulsing, spilling inside her in thick hot rushes while the bed bucked. Cassidy came with him, loud, clenching in helpless spasms, her laugh shattered into a moan as she bounced through it. The orgasm shook her in sync with the bus, ridiculous and huge, until she couldn't tell which jolts were magic and which were him. She laughed while she came. He laughed while he came, grip-tight, thrusting through the last slams. Elise cheered until she hiccuped. Warrick thumped the mattress like it had scored.

The bed kept shaking. So did they. Cassidy sagged forward over the rail, still fluttering around his cock, sticky and bright and undone, giggles spilling out of her between aftershocks while the Knight Bus roared on as if it had done them a favor and expected a tip.

The Knight Bus finally screeched to a halt at their stop with the delicacy of a dropped piano. For one second the bed stopped inventing new laws of motion. Cassidy and Terrence stayed locked together, flushed and giggling, until the bell clanged and reality tapped their shoulders.

Cassidy lifted off him with a wet, ungraceful sound that made Terrence groan and Warrick applaud one last time out of pure friendship. They disentangled in a tangle of silver dress, open pants, and sticky thighs. He found a handkerchief. She took it with a regal nod that collapsed into giggles. Neither of them looked sorry.

Hollis waited at the front, ticket punch in hand, already thinking about the next stop. Terrence pressed the fare into his palm and added an extra galleon, solemn as a vow.

"For the smooth ride," Cassidy said, straight-faced, and ruined it by snorting.

Hollis blinked at the coin, shrugged like extra money was the only magic he trusted, and waved them down the steps. On the curb, Elise and Warrick traded knowing smirks so obvious they might as well have printed programs.

"Official travel tradition," Elise announced, bumping Cassidy's shoulder. "Cockwarming on every future Knight Bus. Nonnegotiable."

"I'll bring a scorecard," Warrick said. "Points off if you don't laugh while you come."

Terrence, still flushed, still doomed, only grinned, and the purple triple-decker snarled off into the night like it had other passengers to ruin.

Cassidy realized, with horrible delighted clarity, that she was going to get wet every time she heard brakes scream for the rest of her life.