Bikes and guns, guns and bikes. My favorite two hobbies, and combining them on my day off with one of my buddies was a day I had been looking forward to for over a week.
Our plan was to ride a few hours away to a range that had good Yelp reviews, shoot a couple hundred rounds, grab lunch, and then ride back to the city before going home.
I had been friends with Greg for a few years. We actually had met at a shooting range. I had been there just practicing, but Greg was there to qualify for his concealed weapon permit. His first attempt to complete the shooting portion of the course had not gone well. The guy testing Greg gave him a couple pointers and gave him some time to practice before his next (and final) attempt to pass the shooting portion for the class.
I was in the next lane and had seen how poorly he had done, and also saw the reasons. After Greg had been left to practice, I got his attention and gave him a few more pointers. Greg admitted that he had never shot a gun before, which I told him he should have practiced before taking the course. I went over standard issues of stance, grip, and sight picture with him. Greg immediately improved and hit the target well enough that when his second attempt was given, he passed. The grouping was ugly, but he got the job done. We talked after leaving the range, found out we had some common interests, and had been friends since.
This trip was partly because Greg needed to get out of the house. His wife had left to go back and live with her mother. I'll be the first to admit, they were a terrible couple and their separation came as no surprise. It had been a couple of months now and Greg still hadn't seemed to move on. I don't do bars or clubs, so I wouldn't make a good wingman for him.
I rode my Harley over to Greg's house, as we were leaving from there for the ride. As I pulled up, Greg was pulling his smaller Harley out of his garage. We packed his gun, ammo, and gear into my saddlebags, as he had no storage on his bike.
"Just think Greg, you don't need to ask permission to go, and there's no argument about not spending 'quality time' with her." I joked.
"No kidding," he agreed, "but I haven't gotten laid since she left. I've got a really bad case of blue balls."
"Well, you need to get back in the saddle. Don't get married, just have some fun for now. You're a free man now. Enjoy it."
"I'd enjoy it more if I was getting laid." he mumbled.
We mounted up and roared off down the road. We stayed off the highways, sticking to the back roads so we could enjoy the ride. The weather was perfect, not too hot, but not cold. The sky was clear and traffic was light once we got out of the city. GPS got us to the range with no issues. After we parked the bikes we grabbed our stuff out of mine.
"So, standard bet?" I asked, expecting to get a free meal.
We would always make a friendly wager when we went to the range. The loser always paid for the next meal. I had never lost to Greg. He had gotten much better over the years, and I had a lot to do with helping him get there, but I had been shooting for longer, was military trained, and am a little bit of a gun enthusiast.
Greg glanced around a little before he answered, ensuring we were alone in the parking lot. "I was thinking we could up the stakes. If I win, you've gotta get me off."
My mouth dropped open as I thought I heard him wrong. "Say what? Get off of what?"
Greg looked a little nervous as he glanced at me before clarifying.
"Get me off." he said, lowering his voice. "Come on man, I'm hurtin' here. You gotta help me out!"
That wasn't gonna happen. I had never lost to Greg on our friendly shooting matches. Knowing that made the decision easy.
"All right Greg, you're on. But when I win you're gonna do my lawn work for the next month. Be thankful I don't think of something worse for you with that bullshit you want."
We shook hands in agreement and went into the range. Our lanes were side by side and we shot a standard qualification course. Five minutes later I looked incredulously at our targets as they hung side by side in front of us. His grouping was a little more spread out, but I had three flyers off to the side that meant that I lost. My face flushed as I remembered the stakes if he won.
"Best two out of three!" I demanded.
"Alright Brad, but you'd better pay up if you lose." Greg agreed.
"You know if I lose I'll do what we agreed on. I always pay my debts." I said.
Another five minutes later and the results were the same. This time I had only two flyers, but they were both in the "7" ring, making Greg victorious once again. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I choked at the worst possible moment...twice.
We packed up and loaded everything back onto my bike. I followed Greg along the route back to his house. I have no recollection of the ride back into the city. Apparently I was on autopilot trying to figure out how to get out of this. I could outright refuse, but I had agreed to it knowing the potential consequences.
The garage door went up as we approached and both our bikes were soon inside with the door going down. Greg went inside without waiting and without saying anything. Once I got inside I was alone in his living room. I just stood there waiting for him to appear. A couple minutes elapsed before my host emerged from his bedroom wearing a bathrobe. He sat down on his couch and just stared at me expectantly.
"It's not gonna take care of itself Brad. It's just like jerking yourself off. You know the equipment, just do what you normally do."
I forced myself to sit next to my friend. Greg opened his robe just enough for his half hard cock to poke out. I couldn't look at him as my hand hesitantly reached out and grasped this strange penis. I felt soft even as it grew hard. The smooth flesh was warm to the touch and I started stroking it quickly up and down.
"Jeeze man, slow down and take it easy." Greg said. "You're not trying to tear my cock off. Is that how you jerk yourself off? Slow down, ease up on your grip, and just do what you would want done to you."
With a little more verbal coaching, I was stroking his cock like an expert. Greg had handed me a small bottle of lube, and my hand was now slick with it as it glided up and down his shaft. I was intent on getting him off quickly and getting out of there, but even though Greg was groaning and slightly thrusting his hips, he did not seem close to finishing.
"Looks like it's not going to happen." I insisted. "I'm gonna get out of here and go home."
"Not so fast Brad. I don't usually cum from jerking off. My ex would get me off with her mouth or pussy. That's why I haven't done it myself. My arm would fall off before I could ever get there."
"I never agreed to either of those things!" I argued.
