Backseat Bumpin.

The campus park sparkles with the vibrancy of autumn, the leaves in a dazzling array of reds, yellows, and oranges. I'm seated on a bench, a neglected book in my lap, my thoughts lost in the labyrinth of last night's events.

Amy appears on the park path, her hands buried in the pockets of her jacket, a turtleneck keeping her warm on this brisk day. Her blonde hair is loose, rippling in the crisp breeze.

"Hey, Jo," she greets, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "How are you doing?"

I plaster on my most convincing smile, the one that's meant to reassure everyone that Jo's just fine. Honestly, I don’t have to use it much, because I’m like, always doing good. "I'm good, Amy," I say, the words hanging in the cool autumn air.

Amy's smile fades a little, replaced by a look of concern. "Jo, that's the first time you ever told me you aren't doing great. What's wrong?"

I laugh it off, a harsh sound that does nothing to alleviate the tension. "Oh, nothing. I got half laid last night, so that's pretty good..."

At my words, Amy stiffens, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Oh," she says quietly, her voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. "Well, what's wrong then? You've wanted that for a while." She sounds sad, her words laced with a hurt I don’t quite understand.

Caught off guard by her reaction, I pause, taking a deep breath. Her earnestness pricks at the facade I've been trying to maintain. In a moment, I decide to share everything with her. "Well," I begin, recounting the events of the party, about Ben, about how he'd bolted after getting off, leaving me confused and hurt.

Amy listens, her hands wrapped around a paper cup of tea, her gaze fixed on the steaming liquid. She doesn't interrupt, doesn't even look up until I mention Ben's girlfriend.

At that, her head snaps up, her eyes meeting mine. Surprise flickers in her gaze, quickly replaced by a deep, burning anger. "What an asshole!" she exclaims, her usual soft-spoken demeanor replaced with a fiery anger. I can't help but feel a little better seeing her reaction.

"Yeah," I shrug, forcing a bitter laugh. "I guess he's just a dick."

There's a pause before Amy reaches out, her hand gently landing on my leg. "Are you okay, Jo?" she asks, her voice soft.

I manage a small smile, appreciating her concern. "Yeah, I am," I say, my voice stronger than I feel. "I mean, I enjoyed giving him a blowjob, to be honest. It felt good to finally be touched, to be wanted,” I pause, looking down at her hand on my leg before continuing. “It just sucks that it got ruined like that. Made it feel... dirty." As I speak, I reach down and take Amy's hand. Her touch is comforting, grounding.

Amy nods, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "I can understand that," she says, her voice empathetic.

"But you know," I continue, my smile growing more genuine, "Coming home and finding the new pages of your manuscript? That... that made me feel a lot better."

At my words, Amy's face brightens, her eyes lighting up. She sits up straighter, her grip on my hand tightening slightly. "Really? Did you like it?"

I laugh, the sound more genuine this time. "Of course, I did! Especially that bathtub sex scene between Bren and Adaric. Man, that was hot!"

Amy flushes at my words, her gaze darting to the side. "You don't think... I didn't take it too far? Was it too much?"

"No way!" I reply, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "I loved it! It was perfect, Amy. Just like always."

At my assurance, Amy seems to settle into a warm glow of pride. A soft smile graces her lips, and I can't help but be drawn to the genuine happiness reflected in her eyes.

It's then that I realize we're still holding hands. I look down at our entwined hands, a new sense of awareness washing over me. It’s only been a second.

Amy, too, seems to realize this at the same time. Our eyes meet, a silent conversation passing between us in the span of a heartbeat. Then, with a jolt, Amy withdraws her hand, wrapping it around her tea cup again.

She brings the cup to her lips, taking a long sip, her gaze fixed on the swirling steam. It's as if she's hiding behind the cup, a shield against the moment of vulnerability we just shared.

I watch her, my hand still warm from her touch. A sudden realization hits me - I want to keep holding Amy's hand. But I don't make a move, instead, I let the moment pass, allowing the silence to fill the space between us.

Amy is the one to break the silence. "So," she starts, her voice steady, "doing anything fun this weekend?"

At her question, I groan, dropping my head back. "That was the whole point of the party!"

Amy looks at me, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"I was looking for someone to take to sex fest!"

Amy's eyes widen in surprise. She’s so cute when she’s startled. I’m already feeling so much better.

"Ok ok ok, let me explain," I say. "I’ve got this friend Ethan, right? He's been dating this guy Caleb for a little while now. Real muscley guy, I bet they have great sex. Anyways, Caleb has this cabin upstate and they're going there for the weekend."

I take a pause, gauging Amy's reaction. "So, they invited me along. There's a second bedroom and everything. But, seeing as they're definitely going to be… you know, totally getting it on, I figured it'd be more fun if I brought someone along too. Hence, sex fest."

Amy bursts into laughter. "Jo," she manages to say between giggles, "You are always predictably crazy." Her laughter is infectious and I find myself joining in, the sound filling the crisp autumn air.

“I know I am! But I was trying to find a boy at the party. Look how that turned out. Now there’s no time left!”

"Well," Amy starts, her laughter subsiding, "the boys are truly missing out. Their loss." She lifts her gaze to meet mine, her eyes sparkling with sincere conviction. I take a moment to appreciate her. Amy's always been beautiful, but right now, in the warm glow of the autumn sun, she's radiant. An idea hits me then.

"Who needs boys?" I say, a playful grin spreading across my face. "Are you free tomorrow? And for the weekend? Why don't you come with me instead?" I pause, realizing how that might sound. "I mean, if you're comfortable sharing a bed, that is. I promise I don’t kick in my sleep. Much."

Amy looks taken aback for a moment, but then her face breaks into a wide smile. "I'd love to go, Jo," she says, her voice brimming with excitement.

"That's awesome," I say, relief flooding me. She didn’t think it was weird! "This is going to be super fun. You'll love Ethan."

Amy chuckles, her eyes twinkling with humor. "I'm sorry for ruining sex fest', though."

I laugh at her words, shaking my head. "At least I know you won't get off and then skip out on me," I say, a warmth spreading through me. For the first time since last night, I feel genuinely happy.

Amy's eyes flash with a playful determination. "Speaking of skipping out," she says, her voice carrying a note of resolve, "this Ben - we need to track down his girlfriend and let her know he's a scumbag."

Her words ignite a spark of excitement within me. Yeah, she’s right! We’ll show him. I feel a surge of affection for her. She’s looking out for me.

"Sounds like a plan," I reply, my voice echoing the same determination in Amy's.

And with that, under the autumn leaves, we plunge into our scheming, and I feel whole again.

≋ ≋ ≋

The weekend has just begun, and Amy and I are standing in front of the West Dorms waiting to get picked up by Ethan and Caleb. I’ve only got a backpack with my stuff in it, it’s just a weekend away after all. Amy, on the other hand, has a full on suitcase. Plus a backpack that’s bigger than mine.

I look at Amy's luggage, a grin spreading across my face. "Amy, are you planning on moving in with them?" I tease, motioning to her suitcase.

She gives me a playful scowl, adjusting the large backpack on her shoulders. "You never know what you might need, Jo," she retorts, a hint of defiance in her tone.

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Well, you're not wrong," I admit, "but remind me to never go backpacking with you. I roll ultralight."

“Isn’t that dangerous? Like, what if you hit bad weather, or you run out of food, or-” Just then, the purr of a car engine breaks the silence. Turning, we see a tiny Mini Cooper pulling into the area in front of the West Dorms. It's about as compact as cars come, with just two doors. The boys look hilarious in the front seats, especially the muscle-bound Caleb.

Ethan, behind the wheel, grins at us through the rolled-down window. Caleb waves from the passenger seat.

"Oh boy," Amy mutters, eyeing the tiny car and then glancing at her suitcase. "This is going to be interesting."

The boys pull up and hop out of the car. Caleb, dressed in a tight t-shirt that clings to his muscular frame, is the first to emerge. He's a wall of muscle, his size a humorous contrast to the tiny car. Following him is Ethan, with his easy smile and sharp eyes.

Caleb beelines it for me, a wide grin on his face. "You must be Jo! Oh my god! Ethan told me so much about you, you crazy girl," he says, his voice full of warmth. He pulls me into a hug, and I can feel his muscles, solid and very pleasant in my hands and against my body.

"I've heard a lot about you too, Caleb," I reply, pulling back from the hug to look up at him. I give him an appreciative whistle. "And damn, you're even more buff now that I’ve got a close up look at you." Oh lawdy those pecs.

He grins at my comment, flexing his muscles in response. I reach out, giving his bicep a playful squeeze. "Oooh, I like that," I say, my tone playful.

Caleb laughs, wagging his finger at me. "Girl, what you are selling, I am not buying." His tone is teasing, his smile genuine.

I laugh along with him, shrugging. "Doesn't mean I can't enjoy the view."

His face breaks out into wide-eyed, open mouth mock shock. He holds the pose for a moment, covering his mouth with his hand and cocking one hip to the side. We both burst into laughter.

Ethan and Amy watching us, their expressions incredulous. They share a "Can you believe these two?"-look, a silent conversation passed through eye contact alone. Amy steps forward, extending her hand to Ethan. "Amy," she introduces herself, a friendly smile on her face.

Ethan takes her hand, shaking it warmly. "Ethan. Nice to meet you, Amy. I think we're already going to get along."

He then raises an eyebrow, a playful grin spreading across his face. "So, Jo found you to drag along to sex fest, huh?"

Amy's eyes widen, and she covers her face with her hands. "Oh no, you call it that too?" she groans, her voice muffled.

Ethan chuckles, nodding in my direction. "You know that Jo can’t be dislodged from an idea once it gets in her head. Like a dog with a bone."

"Damn right!" I pipe up, grinning.

Caleb, who had been busy inspecting Amy's suitcase, looks up at Ethan's words. "Sex fest? Is that what this is? Babe, I like the sound of that!" he declares with a broad smile.

Ethan and Amy both facepalm simultaneously, their reactions eliciting a grin from Caleb and I. We high five.

Caleb turns his attention back to Amy's suitcase. "You know," he begins, his gaze flicking between the suitcase and the car, "I think we might have a teeny weeny space problem in the minimobile,"

Ethan steps around to join Caleb, eyeing the luggage critically. "Hmm, we might have to use some of the back seat," he muses, scratching his chin.

I frown, glancing at the Mini Cooper. "There's not exactly a lot of space back there to begin with."

Amy, who had been watching the exchange quietly, suddenly looks apologetic. "I'm sorry," she mutters.

Caleb immediately turns to her, his expression softening. "Oh honey, no," he says, his tone comforting, full mama bird. "You're perfect and you did nothing wrong. We'll figure this out!"

Caleb sets to work, moving the suitcase around in the trunk and trying various positions. His muscles flex as he lifts and adjusts the luggage, his face set in a look of concentration. I find my gaze drifting. The tight fit of his t-shirt leaves little to the imagination, and when he bends over, that ass… holy shit this boy squats.

Suddenly, my vision is blocked by a hand. I blink and turn as Ethan pulls his hand off from over my eyes. "Jo," he chides in a tone that's half admonishment and half laughter. "My boy. Bad Jo."

I swat away his hand, grinning unabashedly. "What? I'm just admiring Caleb’s... tetris skills."

Ethan rolls his eyes at me.

Finally, after much grunting and rearranging, Caleb steps back with a sigh. "This is about as good as I can get, babes" he declares, but a glance at the car tells us all that there's clearly not enough room.

Ethan, however, doesn't seem fazed. "Well, Amy could sit on Jo's lap," he suggests. "She's small, after all."

Amy agrees almost instantly. "Okay," she says, her voice firm.

I flash her a grin, my eyebrows raised in surprise. "Well, let's get cozy then," I say.

The boys share a look and a smile, their expressions inscrutable. I don't understand why, but before I can ask, Ethan claps his hands together, grinning widely. "Okay, problem solved! Let's get saddled up!"

“Saddled up? Yes please!” Caleb says, following Ethan to the car. I think I have a kindred spirit in Caleb. Finally, someone as into boys as me!

With the boys heading to the car, I turn my attention to the backseat. I’m going to have to get in before Caleb, with the way these tiny doors work. Stepping forward, I push the seat forward and contort myself to fit inside. The backseat is even less roomy than it looked, and my knees almost press up against the back of the front seat.

Then it's Amy's turn. She approaches the car, a hesitant expression on her face. For a moment, she looks at me, then the limited space, then back at me. I give her an encouraging smile, and she takes a deep breath before crawling in.

As she maneuvers herself into the cramped space, she's forced to get all the way in and twist around. For a few moments, her face is so close to me. I can see the faint freckles sprinkled across her nose and the way her eyelashes fan out like delicate wings. I can feel her breath against my skin, warm and slightly minty. Of course Amy has good oral hygiene.

Her hand finds my thigh, taking her weight and steadying her body as she gets oriented. Then there's the awkward pressing of our bodies. I can feel Amy's softness, her breasts pushed up against me as she twists, her hand pushing on my thigh, making me hyperaware of her. I put a hand on the curve of her waist, steadying her. As she contorts I see the gentle rise and fall of her chest. It's more contact than we've ever had, and it sends an unfamiliar feeling through me.

Finally, Amy positions herself to sit down on my lap. The moment she does, a breath escapes me. Her weight settles against me, her body molding to mine in a way that's oddly comfortable. There's something undeniably intimate in the way she fits against me — in the way her back presses into my chest, in the way her bare thighs rest against mine.

I can't deny the strange thrill that shoots through me at the feeling of Amy against me. It's a sensation that's both foreign and not unpleasant, a sensation that I'm not ready to analyze just yet. For now, I simply wrap an arm around her slim waist, securing her against me as Ethan starts the car.

"Are you okay, Jo?" she asks, her voice soft. The proximity of her face to mine sends my heart racing once again. I swallow hard, forcing a smile onto my face.

"Yeah, I'm good," I assure her. "Just getting comfortable. How about you? Are you okay?"

Her eyes light up when she nods, and her lips curve into a sweet smile. “Yeah, your lap is actually pretty comfy,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “We fit nice.”

"Saddled up and ready to go," I say, meeting Ethan's eyes in the rear-view mirror. I try to make my voice sound steady, try to ignore the rapid beating of my heart. Ethan and Caleb turn around to get a look at us, before they share another one of those cryptic glances.

As the car pulls onto the open road, I feel Amy shift slightly in my lap. … I think I’m going to enjoy the drive.

≋ ≋ ≋

The city turns to suburbs, suburbs to remote highway, remote highway to rural roads, clusters of houses and slow speed limits coming and going.

Along the way, we take a few breaks to stretch our legs and grab some snacks. Each time, Amy and I disentangle ourselves from the backseat. Each time, when we pile back into the car, Amy settles back into my lap, a routine we've quickly fallen into.

By the time we turn onto the rural roads, I find that I've grown comfortable with Amy in my lap. My hands naturally wrap around her waist, holding her secure as the car hits the occasional highway bump. The feel of her, soft and warm, is really, really nice,

Her waist fits casually in my hands, her curves gentle under my fingers. I can feel the subtle rise and fall of her breath, the occasional brush of her hair against my cheek. The scent of her shampoo fills the air, a sweet, floral aroma that I'm now coming to associate with her.

The drive continues uneventfully, full of casual chatter and a podcast, until Caleb, who has been navigating confidently, tells Ethan to take a turn off the remote rural highway. "We're close, babes!" he announces cheerfully. "Just the home stretch to go! Welcome to dirt roads!"

As Ethan maneuvers the Mini off the paved road and onto a marked private road, the car starts to judder. The change in terrain causes the small car to bounce and shake, its stiff suspension ill-prepared for the rough and rugged path.

"Sorry about this," Ethan apologizes, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as he tries to dodge the bigger potholes. "My car was definitely built with city streets in mind."

But in the backseat, the rough ride takes on a different meaning. Each jolt, each bounce, sends Amy shifting in my lap. The movement is subtle at first but becomes more pronounced as the car continues to judder along the dirt road.

I can feel Amy bouncing lightly against me, her body pressing closer with each bump. I can feel a heat building, not just from Amy's blush which is now evident even from my angle behind her, but from the sensation I’m getting from the way she's pressing into my crotch and bouncing with the rhythm of the car.

Oh my.

As the car continues along the dirt road, the vibrations from the stiff suspension become impossible to ignore. And if I’m being honest, I don’t want to. The sensation, amplified by Amy's weight against my lap, sends a rush of heat through me. Both of us are in short dresses, and the amount of skin contact across our bare legs is almost scandalous.

I can't entirely suppress despite the guilt that gnaws at the edge of my consciousness. This isn't how I should be feeling, not with Amy, not here in the backseat of a car with our friends just a few feet away. But the physical reality is harder to deny, harder to control. The pressure, the juttering of the car, the way she presses into me, I can’t help but take pleasure from it.

My grip around Amy tightens instinctively, my fingers curling into the fabric of her dress, feeling her body underneath. It's a futile attempt to ground myself, easily mistaken as steadying her while the car jerks around. At least that’s what I tell myself.

Amy, for her part, seems to be feeling something similar. Her body stiffens against me, her breath hitching in a rhythm that doesn't match the car's juddering. There are other signs too: the way her fingers clutch at the edge of the seat, the way her eyes flutter closed for longer than a blink. And of course, the signature blush.

I like that she’s aroused and in my lap. What does that mean?

My breath quickens. This is becoming dangerous, I’m starting to build to a peak. I bite my lip, trying to control the feelings. Just when I think I might get through this, I feel a tentative touch on my thigh. Amy's hand, light and unsure, barely makes contact with my skin, but the sensation sends a wave of excitement through me that's more potent than any judder of the car.

As her fingers rest on my leg, my grip tightens on her waist, pulling her closer into my lap. Our bare legs are rubbing against each other. The front button of Amy’s dress has come undone in the commotion, giving me a view down the front of her dress over her shoulder that I’m trying not to take advantage of.

Both of our dresses have ridden up ever so slightly as a consequence of all this friction, revealing more of our legs. I can feel the silk of her underwear just barely against my upper thigh. Neither of us make a move to pull down the fabric. The heat of her body against mine intensifies, and a soft sound escapes my lips — a sigh of pleasure that I pray is lost in the crunch of the tires and sound of the mini lurching along this rough road.

In the backseat, our world narrows down to the rhythm of the car, the warmth of Amy's body against mine, the thrill of her hand on my thigh. As the intensity builds, I know I’m on the edge. She’s stiff, pressing her fingers into my leg harder, and I think she’s on the edge too.

But just as the tension between us reaches its peak, the car lurches to a halt. The abrupt stop throws both of us forward, breaking our intimate connection. Amy's hand withdraws from my thigh sharply to arrest herself against the headrest. The sudden absence of her touch leaves a spot that feels like it’s been branded.

"We're hereeee!" Caleb's voice rings out, flamboyantly shattering the bubble of intimacy that had formed in the back seat.

As I reluctantly remove my arm from around Amy and we start to crawl out of the car, I notice her flushed cheeks. She doesn't meet my eyes as she steps out into the cool mountain air, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. As I follow her out, I wonder what this means for the weekend ahead.

Holy shit.

I’m attracted to Amy.