It was midnight by the time I got home. The second story apartment was as silent as a tomb. Not even a wall hanging was left after my ex left. The only thing that was left after the breakup was the computer, a futon, and my digital photo equipment that I used for my work. The only reason I got to keep those is that I could prove I had had them before I met up with him. Now, when I say ex, I mean ex-boyfriend. I had never been married. I had never met anyone that I'd ever consider sticking around with long enough to actually say the two magic words, "I do."
I had just gotten home from doing a photo spread on graffiti artists. No, not the taggers. The ones that create beautiful murals instead of the squiggly crap that only gangers can read. One of the magazines I occasionally work for wanted something on the unknown artists of the City. They liked the graffiti angle of it, which was fine by me. Tho I did spend some time making sure that if the artist was hanging around, I got the permission to use the photo in my collection. I walked into this empty place and shook my head and wished I had some of that color on my walls before going to bed. I was NOT going to deal with this tonite. I decided to go out for a while.
I went into the bedroom and snagged a comfortable pair of jeans, a black T-shirt and matching undies, before heading for a quick shower. I took a moment after shedding my clothes to look at myself in the mirror. I had an average figure for a 30 year old woman. My breasts still were just a nice handfull and my nipples were constantly at attention. Yes, they were that sensative. My tummy was flat thanks to years of arobics and judo classes. I took a critical look at my pussy and my ass. No flab or sag there. The only mar on this was a nasty looking scar that ran from my collarbone to a spot just over my heart. One of the reasons the Ex is now an Ex.
Feeling rather horny I stepped into the shower and lathered myself up. It seemed that my whole body was tingling and on fire. I guess it comes from getting it on a regular basis, then not getting it at all. I grabbed the hand held shower head and turned it onto pulsate. I slowly tormented my body with the small shots of heated water until I was whimpering with need. Only then did I slowly peel back the outer lips to my pussy and give myself some relief by directing the pulse onto my aching clit. The explosion had me seeing stars and my whole body trembled with the shocks. I kept the water onto my clit until I came down from the orgasm and then shut off the water.
Thirty minutes later, I was pulling my Harley into the parking lot over at a poolhall in Hollywood. Locking down the bike, I went through the door into the place that smelled of stale cigarette smoke, good times, and beer. It was the perfect place. My ex was more of the wine and classical places. I wanted something that diddnt remind me anything of him. I wandered up to the bar and ordered a double shot of JD and a beer on tap. I tossed back the shot, then turned to watch the action at the pool tables. It was an hour til closing time and most of the ones in the place were drunk except for a pair of guys along the far wall shooting 8 ball.
One of them had long black hair that ran down to his waist, he had on a pair of black leather pants and a black T-shirt on. Nice, if you like tight leather. The other one, tho. There was something familiar about him that I couldnt place as I took a sip of my beer. Something. I let that thought swim around in my head for a while as I looked at him. From where I was sitting, I could see the sandy brown hair. When he bent over to take a shot his jeans cupped his ass very nicely. When he stood back up, the gray t-shirt stretched and moved with him as he turned slightly to talk to his friend in a soft murmer. A nicely built package if you ask me. I closed my eyes and indulged in a little bit of a fantasy involving him and me.
Sighing, I tried to get my mind OUT of the gutter and back to a serious drink or two. All was fine until one drunk decided he wanted to take me home and wouldnt take no for an answer. After one too many, "Awww, C'mon honey, you're just what I need tonite..." I finally turned nd looked him in the eye and said, firmly, "No, I am not interested. I dont even know you and would you please leave me alone!" I diddnt say it loudly, but out of the corner of my eye I saw the two at the pool table turn their heads twards me. Blushing, I turned back to my drink, only to have the drunk shove my shoulder around, "You'd fuck them before you'd fuck me?" he drawled. "Fuckin whore. Lessee how they like it after I get done." I tried not to gag at the stench of too many tequilas and beer. I wondered vaguely if the worm had screamed and run before being eaten.
I diddnt see the hand with the knife until it was too late. I managed to block most of it, but the knife got me from chin to temple, open to the bone. Angry was NOT the word for it. Time slowed down and my vision narrowed down to the man's face and what he looked like. Then I diddnt think anymore, my foot hit his nuts and he howled like a woman. My fist exploded his nose like a ripe tomato. I dont know what else happened because suddenly I was out sitting on my bike holding a rag to my face and trying to find my keys. Damn! All I wanted was a drink, not to fight. I was so intent on the keys and holding the rag to my face that I diddnt notice the bar door opening. It was the two men I had been watching for the past hour playing pool.
"Are you allright?" came a voice filled with concern. I looked up in time to see two pairs of eyes looking at me with concern. One the most beautiful color of blue I had ever seen, the other pair was gold flecked green. His stance immediately gave me the impression of Bodyguard. When the one repeated the question, I stared stupidly at him and went "Huh?" before the world went black and I toppled off my bike. I was barely concious of hearing someone yell, "Markus, call 911. " and the guy answering, "You got it, Kief." My slowly melting mind was telling me that I was NOT bleeding all over Kiefer Sutherland. This could not be happening. The thought had barely formed in my brain when I slipped into blissful unconciousness.
Conciousness slowly returned in the hospital emergency room. Someone was holding my head completely still and a tugging sensation on my face caused me to make a token attempt at resistance. Then my brain reminded me what had happened. I must have muttered something because the doctor said, "Take it easy miss. Just a few more stitches and you'll be fine." Heh. Fine he says. I spoke through gritted teeth. "Easy for you to say, you're not the one getting stitched back together." which prompted a chuckle from somewhere beyond my line of sight. "A joke. Amazing." I opened my eyes and sure enough, Markus and Kiefer were still there. "I'm dreaming" I mumbled as the final stitches were put into my face. My gaze flicked to the doctor. "Please tell me that I did not bleed all over Kiefer Sutherland and that this is all a bad dream." The doctor arched an eyebrow at Kiefer. He just grinned and shook his head back at the doc.
Guess it was true, because once they got me patched up, a small transfusion of blood, and painkillers. They were both there, along with the cops. Two hours of interrogation, report filing and signing myself out of the hospital, I was standing on the curb outside the doors to the ER just as the sun cleared the horizon, bathing everything in a beautiful rosey hue. I had everything I came in with except the blood soaked T-shirt. For that, they gave me one of those mint green scrub shirts. Made me look even more washed out than I was. Anyways. There I was, standing on the curb, wondering how I was gonna get my bike and stuff back to my house, when the full throated roar of a Harley reached my ears. Actually, it was two Harleys. Both pulled up in front of me and the one riding in front pulled off his helmet and grinned boyishly up at me. I dont know what I expected, but having Kiefer smiling up at me was not one of the expectations. Nor was the burst of unadulterated lust that coarsed through my veins at the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes.
"Thought you might need a ride home." he said to my stunned face. "Markus got your keys and your bike is already at your apartment." I blinked. "Um.. thanks, I think. Sure, I'll take that ride home." I chuckled shakily. "I dont think being on pain meds and looking like Frankenstein's monster is going to be doing anyone any good today. No need to scare the bus drivers on the way home." I tried to keep myself on track and my mind out of the gutter as he handed me a helmet. "Hop on and we'll get out of here before the paparazzi get around to finding me." came the soft reply. I noticed that the helmets had built in radio headsets. Oh goodie. I put mine on gingerly over my head and made sure the stitches were covered.
Let me tell you one thing. The rumor is definately true about Harleys. It's the world's biggest vibrator. I've ridden behind people many times. And always the vibration goes strait for the clit. I climbed on and sighed as I settled myself into the pad. "Ready?" he asked, I nodded. "Let's ride" I said. He gunned the engine and I came in my pants. I managed to keep that fact from him by biting my lip and relaxing my hands as they reached around him while taking off. I couldnt believe it. I just knew it was partially the fault of the pain meds, but most of the ride home was in orgasmic bliss. Over my headphones he asked, "So, Diane, what happened?"