Motorcycle Diaries: Stranded

The Motorcycle Diaries: Stranded

© 2020 by Mojavejoe420

Fuck

.

Utah is full of assholes.

I stood there on the side of the road with my motorcycle parked, helmet on the seat. I smiled and waved at the cars and RVs that didn't come by very often, but nobody stopped. Some kids in a camper waved back, but that's been about it.

I guess they don't get too many black people up in here.

I drank all my water and the heat kept heating. I cursed myself again. The guidebook said this Escalante Staircase thing was an amazing sight, and it was. But it also wasn't traveled very heavily. And as hot as it was now, it was going to get cold when the sun went down. I wiped some beads of sweat from my forehead.

Fuck

.

I didn't think I looked too intimidating. I'm just at six feet, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt. I got a great smile and my moms thinks I look like Denzel. Nobody else thinks that, but I don't mind. I do have some ink, maybe that was throwing everyone off.

I heard a vehicle approaching, so I grabbed my empty water bottle and held it upside down. From around the corner, this RV approached at slow speed. It's a dirt/gravel road so nobody goes too fast except Jeeps and jacked up trucks. That's been a lot of fun when they came by and dusted me. This RV is one of those medium-sized ones with a van front end. Not a supersized bus style, but still a pretty decent size.

As it came into view, I held up my empty water bottle, gave a little wave, tried to put on my best

can a brother get some water

face... and they slowed down!

The driver, a white guy who didn't actually look all that old, and his wife who actually looked pretty good, waved at me and pulled slowly past my bike. It's like they were being careful not to kick up too much dust on me.

The RV gave me some welcome shade. I walked up just as the guy opened the door. He had what looked like a cold bottle of water in his hand.

"Drink up, young man, then we'll talk."

I gave him a big ass smile and chugged half the water. The cold liquid radiated chillness through my chest, about the greatest feeling in the world right now. I took a couple breaths and drank the rest of the water.

"Ahh!" I exhale. "Thank you, thank you. I needed that."

"I'm Morgan Bradley," he said as he stepped out of his rig, his wife right behind him. "And this is Jennifer."

"I'm Dante, it's great to meet you guys."

I really tried not to stare at Jennifer. She was a little thing but, oh, what a tight little frame she had. Her hot little bubble butt was trapped in some tight shorts and her tits looked like they were trying to escape her white top. I liked the way her cleavage jiggled at me, she was all natural. Big tits on a small body.

Damn

. But the best thing about her was her smile, it just made me feel welcome.

"Brokedown, huh?" Morgan was talking to me. "How long you been out here?"

"Yeah, it just cut out on me like, two or three hours ago. I ain't a mechanic, I don't know what its problem is. It made some clanking noise in the motor, though. And I got no cell service out here."

Jennifer pulled out her phone. "Me either, nothing."

Mr. Bradley bent down near the engine, so I did too. He tugged at a couple wires, then pushed on them. "Wires seem connected, You're not just out of gas, are ya?" He unscrewed the cap and saw that no, I'm not

that

stupid.

He stood up and looked me over like he was making a decision about something. Probably like,

can I trust this black boy?

He checked his phone, too.

"Just checking out the map... Honey, why don't you go whip something up."

Whip something up

, that sounded good. After a long minute in the heat, he seemed to arrive at a conclusion.

"Let's go inside and have a bite to eat, and we'll talk about our options."

"Sounds good, Mr. Bradley ."

He laughed and shook his head. "Just Morgan, okay?" He opened the door for me and held his hand out in an

after you

kind of way.

I walked up the three steps into the cool interior... and stopped... not believing my eyes.

Miss Jennifer stood stark naked, standing at a small counter and making sandwiches. I know my mouth dropped open, I didn't know what to say, or do. Morgan's voice sounded out from below me.

"Go on in, son. She's just following the rules. When the vehicle is parked, she must be naked. Go have a seat at the table."

I made my way to the dinette and started to sit down.

"Uh, Dante. Other side, so you can see her. Don't you want to see her?"

I slid into the comfortable swivel chair, feeling very uneasy about this. Were these people going to kidnap me? Was I going to be their sex slave? Why did I leave my knife at the bike? I should always have it on me! I could take this guy, though. No doubt I could. Unless he drugged me.

"Son, you can leave at any time. I won't stop you, you're our guest."

From my seat, I got an excellent profile view of Jennifer as she sliced some tomatoes. Her perfect ass showed no lines or wrinkles, no cellulite as it protruded outwards. Her thin arms contrasted with her large, proud breasts. They were tipped with very light pink areola and good sized nipples. I couldn't see her face, though, and she hadn't looked at me since I came in. She was so warm and welcoming outside, and... now she won't speak to me?

"Get us some beers, Jen, would ya?"

She went to the fridge and brought out a couple of Pliny the Elders in large bottles. I had only heard of this beer from the internet, never encountered one in Baltimore. She walked slowly towards us, head down, one foot directly in front of the other. That made her hips sway and her tits jiggle.

When she set them down, Morgan spoke softly to her. "Jen, honey. Don't be shy, you're pretty."

Her face burned a deep red blush, even going down her neck to the top of her chest. Her nipples looked hard as little rocks. My eyes met hers, soft pools of hazel, and some flecks of gold. She fought to hold my gaze, her eyes darting away but then returning. She rested her hands on the table and fiddled with the edge, not knowing what to do. I don't think I'd ever met anyone as beautiful as her.

"And the sandwiches, too, hon. That's a good girl."

She returned with foot-long French bread sandwiches for us men and a much shorter one for herself. She sat next to Morgan, across from me. Her face still glowed red from shame. Morgan took a huge bite of his sandwich like nothing unusual was happening.

What the fuck.

I took a bite of mine. Turkey, ham, salami, spicy cheese, lettuce, ranch dressing, everything. I half-closed my eyes as I enjoyed the lunch. It felt so good in here, I was almost chilly from the AC.

"Where you headed, Dante? Where did you come from? Your plates say South Carolina."

I talked with my mouth half full. It's rude, I know, but I was starving.

"L.A. I start a job there in just over a week. I thought I would see the country first, though, you know? The bike is from Carolina, it's my uncle's. He sold it to me for $1,000. I'm from Baltimore, and the only other place I've been is Pittsburgh, where I went to school."

"U Penn?"

"Ha, no. That's in Philly. I got my letters from Carnegie-Mellon." I took a long drink of my Pliny. God, it was good.

"Damn, that's awesome. You speak really well."

I... speak... really well.

Jennifer shot her husband a dark look. I set my beer down slowly, deliberately.

"Why, suh, thank you massa! Lawd a mercy I's so pleased you dun tinks dat! I's juss a po' boy, doin' da bess I got."

His face froze as he realized what he had said, how it sounded.

"I didn't mean—"

"Miss Jennifer," I cut him off. "Thank you for the sandwich. You seem lovely but I can't sit here with this cracker ass any longer. Good day." I stood up and made my way to the door.

"Dante, wait!" Morgan pled. "I just meant most young people I meet don't speak well with adults. I didn't mean anything... racist. I swear to God."

Jennifer got up and held my arm.

"He's an English professor. And an ASSHOLE!" She turned and gave him a dirty look. "But, really, he just appreciates it when people speak properly. Especially young people. Of any race."

I paused. I really didn't want to go back outside. There hadn't been even one car go by since they stopped for me. But I certainly couldn't abide any kind of racist shit.

"Who's your favorite black author?"

I gotta give him credit. He answered without hesitation. "Langston Hughes. And Alice Walker, I swear The Color Purple changed my life. Then of course there's Alex Hailey and Maya —"

"Alright, alright, you pass."

He bowed his head. "I'm really sorry, Dante. Please forgive me."

I looked at him harshly. "You got any more of that Pliny?"

He grinned and jumped up to get it himself. We all sat back down again and resumed eating.

"Morgan, you just gotta know. That's like a trigger phrase you just said."

"I realize that now. Lesson learned. I just appreciate our language so much that I get excited when it isn't... altered or changed, just for the sake of having something new."

I nodded my head. "Alright, so what's going on here? Why is your wife

nekkid

?" He smiled when I said that. "And why did you stop for me? I've seen

Get Out

, you know. I won't put up with any shit. I got my PhD., but I also grew up on some pretty mean streets."

Morgan looked deflated, embarrassed, even. He couldn't look at me.

Jennifer patted his hand. "This was my idea. We've been a bit... lost, I guess you could say. Our counselor urged us to explore our sexual fantasies to help us... find each other again."

She looked at Morgan, he just kept eating his sandwich, but without any gusto or bravado like before.

"I want to be dominated by him. You know, just... made into his bitch and he would control me as I surrender fully to him."

A tear leaked out of his eye.

"And he has tried, and you've done great, Morg. You really have."

But I could see it now. He wasn't dominant at all. He was frontin', but he couldn't pull it off for long. This whole thing from the moment he met me had all been an act.

"Okay, Jennifer. And what was his fantasy? Lemme guess." I chuckled a little bit. "He wants to see you fucked by some strong-ass dude. A black guy, perhaps? He wants to be a, um... shit. What's that word? Cock something. Cuke?"

"Cuckold," Morgan muttered.

"Right, cuckold. See, that word ain't in my

lexicon

. It's a foreign concept to me. Not that there's anything wrong with that."

Shit, man. So these people wanted me to be their...

magic negro

. The mysterious black stranger who can satisfy all their needs and keep their marriage together. Great. I will just

Bagger Vanc

e them, I guess. That's that movie where Will Smith caddies for Matt Damon, giving up his own needs to help the white guy self-actualize.

Magic Negro

. It's a trope, look it up.

Well, she's gorgeous enough for me, and if it gets me a ride into town then I could play along. I drank the rest of my Pliny and asked for another water.

"We've got a satellite phone, it's part of the rental." Morgan got up and searched through some drawers. "Found it. We've got roadside assistance, let me call."

He stepped outside for better reception, we heard him talking to a customer service person.

"This is really weird, Miss Jennifer."

"I know, I'm sorry." She went over to a small cabinet, which turned out to be a closet, and grabbed a small little kimono. "We'll take you where you want to go, help you get your bike fixed. I'm really sorry we embarrassed you. You're such a decent guy and we're trying to drag you into our crazy problems."

"Well now, hold on a second," I said, rising out of my chair and taking the kimono from her hand. "You really want this? You want me to dominate you? Have him watch?"

She looked me straight in the eye. "With all my fucking heart. I love Morgan dearly, but I just need some things he is wholly incapable of giving me."

I reached out and laid my hand on her hip. She flinched at my touch, then visibly sagged. She reached out and put both her hands on my hips to steady herself.

"You've been with a black guy before?"

"I've never been with anyone else. I got married when I was eighteen. I was pregnant, pretty much a shotgun wedding. I've been devoted to him ever since."

I dropped her kimono on the floor. I got out my cell phone and tapped the camera app, putting it into video mode.

"I'm recording. Tell me this is all of your own free will."

"Ahem. Okay. I, Jennifer Cherryh, want this man, Dante..."

"Walker."

"Dante Walker, to fuck me as much as he wants. He can tie me up, do anything he wants to, including fuck my body however he sees fit. I have no limits, I am his slave. We uh... we found him on the side of the road. He isn't forcing us at all. He can... hit me, or tie me up, or do whatever he needs. I... understand I might get bruises or cuts and that's fine, I want it all. I am his. I mean I don't want any broken bones or permanent damage, but he can do what he wants to me"

I clicked off the phone. "I think that will hold up in court. And he's... what? He's like, a sissy or something?"

"Yes. Just degrade him, humiliate him. Use me all you want, please. Have him watch, but also deny him. He will love it, I promise."

"Okay, I sort of get it. I'm not bisexual, but I'll think of something. Now, let's see about you."

I pocketed my phone and pulled her close to me. Being maybe five foot one or two, the top of her head came just to my chest. I tilted her head up to me and kissed her gently.

Her lips melded into mine and she slumped into me. I reached down and grabbed her naked ass cheeks, hoisting her up so she could wrap her legs around my waist. She kissed me harder as her legs hugged me close. She weighed maybe a hundred pounds, practically nothing to me.

The RV door burst open and Morgan came bounding up the steps.

"Good news and bad news, Dante... there's... there's a..."

I stopped kissing Jennifer, but I kept her up on me.

"Morgana, that's your new sissy name. Come over here and hold your wife up, I gotta take my shirt off."

He wasn't a strong guy, probably never lifted a weight in his life. But he was average size and had to have

some

muscles, right? He struggled but kept Jennifer from falling as I removed my shirt. She gasped as she saw my muscular chest, lightly running her fingers over my pecs. Like I said earlier, I grew up on some mean streets. Weaklings got run down hard, you learned about weight lifting at an early age. I kept at it throughout my life.

"Thanks, Morgana. I got her, you can let go."

He visibly sighed as he gave up the huge amount of weight he held, maybe half of that hundred pounds as her legs were still wrapped around my waist.

"Take off my boots and socks."

He dropped to his knees and helped me get them off. Fortunately, these weren't tall boots and we got them off pretty easily.

"Yeah, boy. Smell 'em, sissy boy."

Jennifer smiled and gave me an

I can't believe you just did that

look at me. I shrugged, then winked back at her.

"Yessir," he whispered. And he did.

What a weirdo

, I thought. But his loss is my gain.

Jennifer's legs held tightly to my waist. "Baby, relax a little but don't let go. I'm going to hook my arms underneath your legs." I worked my arms so my elbows locked in behind her knees. This put more of her weight on my arms, but I could control her better this way.

"Hey, sissy bitch. Take my pants off."

"Yes... sir."

I felt his hands undoing my buckle.

"And don't touch nothin'."

"No

sir

, of... course not. You're only for her."

I stepped out of my jeans. "Boxers too. What did you think?"

He carefully tugged on them, pulled them off me without touching me at all. The whole time, Jennifer and I were face to face, her smile radiating enough energy to light up half of Utah.

When he got my boxers off, though, her face went wide-eyed as my rock-solid dick sprang up and landed against her left butt cheek. I squeezed her ass hard, adjusting her so he lay against her crack. I knew Morgana had never picked her up like this. And I was certain if he did, his dick would never whack her ass like this.

"Alright, Morgana. Strip. And uh, put on a pair of Jennifer's panties, your choice of color." Jen's eyes widened at that and she tried not to laugh.

"Y-y-yes sir!"

Jen and I kissed again, hungrier this time, the passion rising high in both of us. Our tongues fought hard inside each other's mouth. She breathed so hard, though, she was nearly hyperventilating.

"Calm down," I soothed. "You're gonna get fucked, don't worry. Can I assume you're on the pill?"

"Tubes tied. Years ago." She didn't want to waste words as we kissed hard.

Eventually, I commanded her, "Reach around, grab my dick."

She did, and her eyes closed as she felt it throbbing in her hand. "Oh, God! It's big, even bigger than I hoped it would be."

"Move him under you, you know where. Get yourself ready."

She flexed her legs and rose up a little to accommodate me, then slid the fleshy mushroom head over her wet labia. For not doing any foreplay other than kissing and holding her, she was still wetter than any chick I could remember.

"Let yourself down, baby. Just relax and take me in."

I looked around and saw Morgana standing there stroking his cock while wearing his wife's white cotton panties.

"Hey, Morgana! Stop that stroking right now, you understand me? Am I

speaking well

enough for you?"

He stopped and looked down.

"Go sit at the dinette where I was sitting. You can watch but you can't touch."

"Yessir."

Looking back at Jennifer, I nodded my head, as if to say go ahead. I held her ass, and let her down slowly. She flinched for a moment when my dickhead entered her and clenched her legs on me so it wouldn't go any further. She paused for a few moments, then let herself down more, moaning in disbelief. Her eyes widened again and her mouth opened silently as a look of pleasure swept over her face.

Pulling her back up a little, I tried to help her adjust to my cock by giving her a little breathing room.

"No... please... don't take it out... give me more of that... that beautiful cock..."

I let her drop several inches and caught her again. She shrieked, which turned into a long wail. I had to remind her to keep holding onto my neck. She fell forward on me but lost all control of her legs. I let her drop again and my dick impaled her completely. She screamed again and shook violently. Wetness poured onto my thighs as her body jerked several times while she came.

I spun her around and pressed her back up against the refrigerator. Pinning her there with my chest against hers and my hands holding her thighs, I began working my legs. Flexing my knees, I lowered my dick until it was almost completely out, then straightened up, forcing all ten inches of my dick inside her little body.

Jennifer panted like a dog, like a bitch in heat as I stroked in and out of her. She may have still been cumming, it was hard to tell. This pussy of hers couldn't be any tighter, she felt so incredible on my throbbing cock. The whole RV began rocking slightly as I fucked her hard against the refrigerator, the insides creaking and squeaking.

Morgan, err... Morgana, watched with great interest but he kept his hands on the dinette table, away from his cock like I told him. I thought he might enjoy a closer look. Picking Jennifer off the wall, I walked her over to him and laid her down on the table in front of him.

I held her legs together straight up and stroked her hard as her ass sat right on the edge of the table. Morgana nearly swooned when I pushed his head to the side so he could get a better view of this big black cock fucking his pale wife. The squishy sounds coming from us contributed to the overall erotic vibe, not to mention the body slapping noises from my thighs pounding her ass cheeks.