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My cellphone buzzed like an angry wasp. I snatched it up, my hair freshly dried with the blow-dryer. It was almost to mid-back, a nice shiny black with red highlights in it.
“Motherfucker, you’re supposed to be down here already!”
“Alright, Sasha. Can’t a man shit, shower, and shave in peace?”
“You’re about a slow-ass bitch. You end up looking prettier than most of the women you get.”
“Stop, you’re gonna turn me on, Sasha.”
“Rocket, if you don’t hurry up and get here, you’re not gonna get in. It’s packed as hell, and it’s not even ten.”
“Ok. I’m getting dressed now, if you’ll quit yer bitching and let me get dressed.”
“Hurry up, man.’
I hung up the phone on Sasha. Man he could be impatient if he wanted. I pulled my hair back as I though about where we were supposed to meet. The Last Chance Saloon bills itself as the center of the universe. Sometimes, when it was packed, it surely was.
I got a look a good look at myself in the mirror. Oh, hell yeah! I was ready for anything. I pulled a couple of condoms out of the box in my nightstand and tucked them into my wallet. I was showered, shaved, and ready to roll. No drawers, tight jeans, boots, and my favorite Vampire Vineyards t-shirt was the attire of choice tonight. I stretched as I walked. Tonight was a good night, and I slipped on a long-sleeved shirt that would go directly into the saddlebag when I got there. I pulled my long hair into a ponytail, and slipped on a helmet.
The night was like black velvet against my skin as I tore through the night. Saturday night is all right for three things in San Antonio, flying, fucking, and fighting. Any or all would be great for me. Truth to be told, I get hornier after a good scuffle. No lie. I hold two black belts, in judo and tae kwon do, so its kind of fun for me.
Slipping up onto I-35, my big red FireBlade blew past a pair of import tuned cars racing on the highway. I never understood why they made their cars sound like lawnmowers on steroids, but it was inconsequential as I swooped past them, the fat Scorpion pipe on my FireBlade belching thunder and decibels. God, speed is almost as good as sex, with the vibrations crawling deep into my crotch, stimulating my prostate and vibing my rapidly growing hard-on. I was fully turned on by the time I slipped onto IH-10, cranking my bad machine over a hundred on the speed dial.
I shot through the 1604/410 interchange, slipping from one highway to the next with little effort. I saw the snout of a white stealth cop car, but technically I wasn’t speeding, even though I cut the tight up-ramp curve at 55 and was accelerating to the highway speed limit of 70. I cranked it once I topped a little hill, blocking the radar. My speedometer ratcheted over to 120, with plenty more go-power left. Laughing, I hunched down, the wind playing rough with me. Sometimes rough is nice, too.
I slid into the tangle of parking in front of the Last Chance Saloon. I eased past a pair fighting, a small knot watching and wagering as they slugged it out in a sandbag-encircled pit. Maybe later. I parked and shed my long-sleeved shirt into a saddlebag, and webbed my helmet to the seat. I walked past the bouncer, a big burly guy in black who looked like he could fight for about ten seconds before getting winded. I showed my ID, paid the entry fee, and stepped into hedonistic paradise.
The dance floor was packed full of nubile flesh pressed close. The smell of sweat, perfume, and arousal permeated everything. Seats and couches abounded, mostly in dark corners. More than one face scrunched in sexual pleasure as their partner did something pleasurable in the dark. I caught sight of Sasha, two girls sitting on either side of him, feeling his chest or his crotch alternately. He was over on the other side of the dance floor. The bars were four deep with people, and the walkways were filled to capacity. I pressed through, my crotch groped a few times, and proposals whispered with ardor that would make Dionysus proud.
By the time I got there, one girl’s face had disappeared into Sasha’s lap, and the other girl was feeding Sasha a nipple. A third girl hung around the periphery of the small alcove Sasha has commandeered, looking forlorn. I nodded politely at her, slipping past her.
Sasha looked at me, and motioned me over. The girl feeding her tit to him slid over, crawling over me. Her small miniskirt was riding high, and she had no panties on. I licked her tit, and she cooed happily, reaching a hand down to massage my cock. It felt good, but I was in an odd Escort Bayan mood. I had to stop her hand as it started popping the snaps of my jeans loose. Somehow, getting anonymous head in a club was not what I was looking for.
“This is gonna be one hell of a night!” I told Sasha as he took on the faintly Japanese look of concentration. He nodded absently as the girl between his legs began churning her mouth frantically on his dick. The girl making out with me was beginning to get some responses from me, my dick stretching out down the leg of my jeans. A minute later, Sasha bucked wildly, filling the girl with hot, swimming fluid. He came so hard that a small dribble escaped her mouth. She sat back after he finished bucking, cleaning her mouth delicately as she whispered something in his ear. She adjusted her clothes and vanished into the crowd.
I could feel the girl trying frantically to tease me into playing, but the sad fact was that I wasn’t that interested in her. So sue me. I was too hard, if you can imagine that. Most guys like that feeling, because they won’t pop too soon. However, I had a problem. Due to a clumsy circumcision, when I got that hard, it would take a miracle to get me to cum. Makes good sex for the girl, but left me frustrated.
“Rocket, man, this is one hell of a night! Wanna beer?” Sasha asked. I was having a hard time keeping this girl out of my pants, but she kept licking the side of my neck, hitting one of those buttons that made my toes curl and my eyes roll up.
I eased her up, and kissed her deeply. “You’re too good, love. I’m just not ready to play this hard with you.” She pouted, then adjusted her braless boobs. Leaning over, she gave my hardness a kiss through my Levi’s before going off the same way her friend did. Frustrated, I tried to tuck my cock into a less awkward position as Sasha came back with a beer.
Drinking quickly, I swallowed the beer and stood up. The first beer of the night always tasted best. I looked at Sasha and stood up. “I wanna dance. Be back soon.”
I walked out, past a nodding Sasha as he got up, looking for another woman to score with. I walked past the same girl I walked past earlier, and I looked at her. Her face had something in it, some longing and interest I couldn’t put a finger on. Her face was even more interesting with her dark hair and eyes. Her light skin set off the darkness perfectly. However, she was cute and hot, and I wanted to dance.
“Wanna go dance with me?” I asked casually. She was dressed in a bikini and tight jeans.
“Sure.” She replied.
We worked our way onto the dance floor, past hot couples necking in the strobing humidity of the dance floor. We found a space and began dancing. The beat of the music was hard and fast, a jungle rhythm that had us swaying. I could feel that strange connection you get sometimes when you dance with a good partner. I could feel her movements before she did them, and we danced closer and closer. I could smell her, the scent of her skin through the welter of perfume and sweat that encapsulated the dance floor. The beat shifted as the DJ spun a new song, a slower beat, sexier somehow. This girl was getting to me, and my dick was still rock-hard under my jeans.
She stepped closer, and filled my arms. I stand almost six-three in my socks, and she was a perfect five-ten, perfect to look down at. I could feel her tits rubbing around my rib area, her nipples getting hard under the thin bikini top.
“What’s your name?” I whispered in her ear as we danced.
“Janet.” She looked up at me, her eyes glassy with passion.
She giggled and buried her head in my arms. I looked down at her, but she was still giggling. I could feel the sweat trickling down the curve of my back. I still wanted to dance, but I didn’t want to smell like a typical biker less than two hours after I washed. With a sigh, I started moving her to the edge of the dance floor, where we could sit down.
A few minutes later, we were in one of the alcoves. I lounged back on the overstuffed sofa, letting the air conditioning blow over me. Janet sat back, sipping on a cold diet soda I’d bought on our way over. My beer was sweating cool droplets on a nearby table.
“So why were you laughing at me?” I asked.
“Was your mom mad at you when you were a kid?”
“Not really. My real name is Daniel Roquette, but everyone’s been calling me Rocket since I was seven years old. I did all sorts of daredevil shit, jumping off all sorts of stuff or bike stunts. Now I hang with a bunch of old friends, Escort and we ride a lot.”
“Oh.” Janet looked impressed. “Did you bring your bike?”
“Janet looked up at him, her dark eyes making sparking contact with mine. “I could tell you that I wanted to go home with you now, which is true. But, I also have another reason.” She pointed to a tall blond guy who looked like he was a football player that drank too much beer. He was moving like he had a purpose, targeted at Janet.”
“The other reason is that I broke up with him last month, and he’s been stalking me wherever I go.”
Great, I thought as I stood up. I had at least two inches on him, but he was twenty pounds heavier than I was, and upset to boot. This was going to be interesting.
Janet got up and started talking shit before he even got to the conversation pit. “Goddammit! Why can’t you leave me alone, Jake? I told you I was leaving a month ago!”
“Babe,” he said expansively, “I just want to talk with you. Why can’t we work this out?”
“This is why!” she snarled, snatching up a bikini cup to show a mangled nipple. “You did that, you shitbird! The night you slapped me and threw me across the room, motherfucker! Remember that, ’cause you got slapped with a restraining order!” She tucked her tit back into the bikini as Jake stepped into the alcove. His Wranglers did little to hide his beer belly.
“It’s time for you to leave, shitheel.” I told him. I rolled my shoulders, a subtle warning that I was ready to stomp his ass if it was needed.
“I’ll kick your ass if you don’t back off, motorhead.” His snarl was pretty convincing.
I stepped between the two quickly, catching Jake’s arm as it swung back to do something to Janet. I snapped a quick joint-lock on his beefy arm, driving the man down to his knees. I pushed hard enough to make cold sweat, drops of pain, start to roll off Jake’s forehead. Security, predictably, swarmed in. Some big huge corn-fed bastard picked my up by my belt, one-handed, and lifted me off Jake.
Janet explained what had happened as Jake was held down by two bigger corn-fed bastard bouncers. After a few moments, I got to stand on my own two feet as the cooler who held me up in the air grabbed Jake by the chin.
“Okay, dumbass. We’re gonna take you picture and a copy of your ID. Then you will be formally banned from the Last Chance.” The cooler leaned in, to whisper the last part to Jake. “If I catch you back in here, the police will be called. However, they will only be here to scrape you up and take you away, because we will beat the living hell out of you and claim you caused a disturbance.” The cooler leaned back and waved the two bouncers toward the back.
“Well, hell, that was convenient.” I said. I looked at Janet, and motioned to the door. “Did you still wanna go home with me?”
“Hell, yeah!” She grabbed my ponytail and dragged my head down for a hot wet kiss that stopped my clock for a moment. She pulled back, her dark eyes twinkling merrily.
It took about ten seconds to get to my bike. I gave her my helmet and riding shirt as I slipped my favorite sunglasses on. We took off, waving at Jake, who was shoved out of a side door significantly more battered than he was previously. One eye glared at us, the other swollen shut. A fat lip twisted his sneer into something comical as we swept out of the parking lot on a cloud of dust and revs.
The ride was magic. As I kicked my way through the gears, I felt Janet get stiff behind me, then arch her back. The revs from the engine were vibrating the seat with tingling throbs, the kind that got me hard and her all wet. Her nails bit into the t-shirt I was wearing – she got the long-sleeve and the helmet. I felt her rest her head on my back, her moans barely making it through the shrieking wind in my ears. My cock was an iron rod in my pants, I was so turned on. I was getting into it, feeling her curl, then explode on the padded seat behind me. I was expecting to have to clean the stain the next day, she was creaming so hard.
I swept up the interchange onto IH-10 and towards my house in the downtown district. I opened it up as far as I dared to, swooping through practice in long gliding arcs that are every biker’s passion to do in traffic. I could feel the snaps on my jeans getting messed with – I glanced down to see her pink fingernails popping the buttons free. With a tug, she exposed my dick to her soft hand and roaring wind. God, I was so hard, I thought it would just pop into a mess in her hand. Her hand stroked me perfectly, Bayan Escort and the throb of the motor was hitting my prostate, massaging it perfectly.
It was barely worth thinking about that I got back to I-35 and to my neighborhood in a heartbeat. I finally had to stop at a red light on McCullough, near a fried chicken stand. Janet began grinding her hips on my butt, her hand still teasing my cock in the open air. A low-rider turned as she stroked and ground, honking in appreciation.
Gritting my teeth, I pulled off into a nearby park. I eased my FireBlade into and onto a walkway. I angled for a fairly secluded section, and wound up near a duck pond. It was a good thing that I stopped, because I almost ran the damn bike into the water. I switched the bike off and took the shades off. Janet dismounted, too, her knees trembling from the aftershocks of orgasm.
I wasted no time in kissing Janet, pulling her into me as I leaned back. She shucked my helmet off, and sank to her knees, enveloping me in her mouth. God, it was heaven as she licked up and down my length. I moaned something that was supposed to be her name as my penis throbbed. She looked up at me, and I fumbled a rubber out. Smiling, she looked at me. “You’re the first one to offer one to me. I think I like you more for that.” I had nothing to stay at that point, so I watched mutely as she loving brushed her lips over my cock, then rolled it down over my hot flesh. She even pinched the tip.
I eased her back up, and peeled her pants down. Bending her over the saddle of my bike, I slid in. She was so wet that I bottomed out inside her, feeling her cervix against the tip of my dick. She moaned in pleasure, and we started at it.
My hips were jackhammers, pounding away in animal intensity. She babbled something as she flexed into yet another orgasm. “Oh, God!” she half-cried as I held her round hips, soothing my arousal in her warmth. I could feel myself swelling inside her, the warmth becoming tighter as she spiraled into the big one.
“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” she panted as she felt our body parts locking together. I could only grunt, my mind way past words. I could see her creamy skin on the dark leather of the bike saddle, the darker skin of my tanned body as I went in and out of her. Somewhere along the way, I had pushed the long-sleeved shirt and her bikini top up, and was fondling her breasts. Janet’s nipples were bullets, diamond tips that could carve her name in lust.
“Yes, baby,” she purred. She was cooing all sorts of nastiness in my ear. “I want to feel you cum inside me.” I could do that. My nuts gave the funny tingle that was the last warning before they fired. I could hear her gasping her way toward the soul crushing orgasm. Finally, that tight little nether mouth overcame the nerve damage in my cock, sent the last signals to fire away. I felt my frothing spume of lust begin to erupt as I thrust furiously into her wet pussy. My frantic pokes took her over the edge, as well, and we came in a fury of lust, fluid, and passion.
My mind was a shining blankness as I stumbled back, my knees not holding me up. My naked ass plopped down on a root, the minor pain of it barely penetrating the sparkling crystalline shards of my emotions as I came down from the high of good sex.
A hitching gasp caught my attention as I looked back at Janet. She was still draped over the saddle of my bike. The last dribbles of semen had already leaked out of me into the rubber, so I took it off gently and tossed it into a nearby trash can. I helped Janet back into a civilized posture. She looked like a poster child for a porno flick, her face lit in that way only good fucking can do.
“Wow!” she breathed as we kissed deeply. After a moment, she bent down and kissed the head of my wilting cock. “That’s a good wee-wee.” Her voice was almost childlike, and I laughed.
“It’s funny, but I only live two blocks away.” I was a little bothered that my horniness had gotten the better part of me.
“Good, you can take me home and do me on a bed. This was good,” she gestured at my bike, “but I think I like it better the more traditional way.”
I smiled as she bent to retrieve the helmet, her pert pretty breasts still exposed. As she stood up, I leaned in, and kissed the mangled nipple. She gasped as my lips stroked the tender flesh.
“I think that I can do that.” I said, as I fired up the engine and she adjusted. She held the helmet in her hand as I gentled my bike back onto the road. “I didn’t know that my nipple was so sensitive.” She looked at me as I waited to safely turn into traffic.
“That’s ok,” I leaned back to tell her. “We all have secrets to tell.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear some of yours.” Janet was piqued, but it would have to wait. We were only five minutes from my house.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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