The shiny, red, slightly used Honda Gold Wings were monsters. They were NOT what I originally had in mind. I had told George that since Remortgage #3 was out on his own, I wanted to do something fun and see more of the country. I envisioned us on his and hers Harley Sportsters, touring the East coast, the wind in our faces, not a care in the world.
We walked onto the Harley lot, and he immediately went toward a huge Valkyrie with a side car.
"Look," he said, "two for the price of one."
"So, is the bitch seat for you?"
"What? No! That's where YOU will sit."
"Over my dead body, or a divorce lawyer. I know I said a Harley, but I didn't mean one for you with me in the bitch seat. Forget it. And remember, I am NEVER calling you Daddy! Two bikes or you start shopping around for some dumbass who WILL call you Daddy and won't be nearly as good in the sack as this expert who can suck cock better than your average chick. It's my tiny mouth, the fact that I have no cavities or dental work, and don't gag when you're halfway down my throat."
George went red, mumbled something, and we quickly left the lot.
The next bike George found in the Classified ads was a crotch rocket.
"How are we going to travel on that?"
"There's space for your cute little ass on the back."
"This cute little ass has something to say to you. Two little words..."
"Ok, ok, I get it."
George's co-worker and his wife had only had the Hondas for about a year and after their first trip, decided that the wind in their hair was just not what they (he and his toupee) wanted. In the buddy's case, he was all for doing a bus tour. (Their divorce is coming up in court soon.)
"They're red," George said, trying to make them sound appealing. "They come with helmets that are miked so that we can talk to each other while we drive. And they have a ton of compartments where you can store your stuff and space for a cooler on the back. The compartments aren't leather saddlebags but metal built-ins so our stuff won't get wet or ruined in the rain. And...you don't have to sit in a side car."
"Bet your ass!"
"Come, on" he pleaded. "Give it a try."
I threw my leg over the side and straddled the monster. George showed me what to do, and I fired up the beast. I felt the rumble and purr of it between my legs and as I sat there, I had a wonderful vision of George naked, his cock hard and pulsating like the bike. I felt myself getting wet and while George and his buddy talked about horsepower and gas mileage, the rumble between my legs escalated until, I knew in a matter of seconds I was going to cum. I shut out their talk and pretended to look at the gauges in front of me, but I felt the tension building.
If they hadn't been standing right next to me, I would have started to ride that Honda like a bronc. I was so wet I could have slid off the front of that animal except that well, I would have had to play leap frog over the gas tank, gauges, handlebars, and windshield.
Do you know what it's like to feel that delicious throbbing wetness of an impending orgasm and know that it's going to happen in front of two innocent, unconscious (for the most part) men and well...fuck it. I am usually very vocal when this happens, but now I had to clench my teeth and smother my moans.
I pressed my pussy down hard on the seat, and smiled at George, although my eyeballs had rolled back into my head behind their aviator shades.
I was having a very quiet, very intense orgasm. As I continued to smile and look engaged in what was going on, my clit was doing cartwheels and I knew in my mind that this was the best bike in the world. I may have let out a little moan, but I think I did my best to keep it under control. Or so I thought. When we got home and entered the kitchen, George gave me a look."That looked like fun. Are you still wet?"
"Oh my God, how could you tell?"
"We've been married for 35 years. Don't you think I can tell when you are cumming," he smiled. "I was so hard as I watched you from out of the corner of my eye that I almost creamed my jeans. Got some left over for me?" he asked, sidling up to me and slipping his hand beneath my t-shirt. His mouth found mine and his tongue was playful. Yet the more we kissed, the more demanding he got.
He fondled my breast for a moment then went for the nipple, giving it a playful tug. "Well?" he asked as he slid his hand down into my shorts, his finger stabbing into my pussy.
"Yes," I gasped. "Do me here."
"Your wish, my lady," he said, pulling my shirt over my head. He released my black lace bra, and ran his tongue from under my ear, to my shoulder, to the swell of my breast, making his way to my nipple. He teased and tantalized me, pushing my breasts together, and took turns licking and sucking each tight little nub.
By now, I could have slid off anything, even the windshield!
He yanked my pants and panties down and walked me backwards to the counter where he picked me up and plopped me down on top.
"You want to cum? Baby, let's do it."
He pushed my legs wide and with my slick pussy glistening in his face, pressed his mouth against me. He sucked my clit then tongued my cunt, first with little flicks then dove in as deep as he could go. He fucked me with his tongue and as his nose came in contact with my pulsing clit, rubbed against it. I practically swooned.
"Gonna cum for me?" he asked, taking a quick breather and grabbing me around the ass before diving back down--first swirling and nibbling my clit then dipping further into my cunt.
"Oh yes, yes please! Fuck me! Please! Bite me! Oh God!" I screamed as pussy juices flew and my snatch and clit both exploded. I dug my hands into that beautiful chestnut hair and pulled him in as far as he could go as he lapped up my juices. With my legs spread wide and pinned back, George kept me from riding his face and breaking his neck as wave after wave hit.
I was still quivering when I vaguely heard his fly come down. Now, instead of his tongue, his rock hard cock pressed against my warm, wet flesh, begging for more and his own release.
"For round two, do you prefer more tongue or this bad boy who wants his turn," he said rubbing his cock against my still throbbing clit. He pulled me down off of the counter and had me kneel in from of him. I stroked up and down his shaft one or two times, already seeing a bead of pre-cum. Then without warning, I deep throated him, massaging his balls and rubbing my finger against his taint.
George groaned, as I sucked hard, up and down his shaft, swirling then nibbling his head.
He lay back on the kitchen floor, pulling me on top of him.
"I want your cunt. Ride me like you wanted to ride the Honda."
I straddled him like the saddle of that bike and slowly slid down the length of his shaft, taking him as deep as he could go.
I tantalized him, riding him slowly. Then I stopped and squeezed his cock with my wet cunt. I released him, then swirled my hips clockwise then counter clockwise.
George dug his nails into my ass then flipped me over on my back and thrust into me hard.
"Oh God! I'm cumming! Hang on!" he gasped and hammered into me, my legs wrapped around him, moving with him as he pounded me over and over. I hung on for dear life as wave after wave hit us both. I could feel the heat of his juices as we erupted in tandem. My body hit with yet another amazing orgasm as I arched toward him, my nipples hard points against his chest.
