"We should take the Harley out."
Steve grinned, drumming his fingers on the kitchen table. A suggestion like that may have been phrased as such but suggestions with his grandmother had become orders -- particularly when one took into account that a bike like that would never have been anything that she would have at all considered, not even once, buying for herself. No, the true Agatha loathed motorbikes and the culture they entailed but his Agatha smiled and went along with anything he said, as long as the words slipped from his lips and no one else's.
Of course, there was only one answer she could give, happier and more amenable to his whim and will and that had been to buy the bike, the monstrosity that she would never have allowed in her grounds before, immediately, along with a biker outfit that was, safe to say, not from a bike enthusiasts store. No, that one had had to be custom made and, well, her credit card had a high enough limit on it with her rating to easily process the rush fee too.
On his order, she went to change and Steve followed, though he was less interested in putting his own clothes on than he was about watching the sexy show of his grandmother changing before his eyes. Her skirt flowed down to her ankles as it dropped, although it had not covered very much at all otherwise, and was replaced with a pair of leather pants suited to the road and protection but with a custom zip in the crotch for, well...that much was obvious!
Her underskirt was a mesh was close enough in the knit to get away with while her leather jacket stayed open, showing off the round of her tits, pulling down without the support of a suitable brassiere. Knee-high leather boots that rendered her entirely a sex goddess extraordinaire completed the ensemble and she stood up straight for him, waiting for her grandson to admire her as Agatha, most uncharacteristically, giggled and posed, turning first one way and then the other.
"Very nice..."
Steve smirked and brushed his fingers back through his hair but he was more interested in the ride at that point, his cock throbbing up, pulsing through with the blood that allowed him to become so hard. Outside, in her small grounds and garden, resided the Harley beside the garage, gleaming in the sunshine. She went to get on it but Steve put his hand out in the nick of time, his plan coming together as nicely as ever he could have liked.
"Wait..." He tapped his nose cheekily. "Safety first! You have to sit on my dick for safety here, grandmother."
He raised his eyebrows as if to say how silly she was for not realising the very basics of motorbike safety and Agatha giggled, slapping her forehead lightly.
"Oh! I didn't realise!"
Yet Steve had everything in plan and in hand as he positioned her in front of him on the bike, confident that the security gates at the front of the property (overkill but, hey, he wasn't going to complain about what she put on her land) would open when required. His own biking pants boasted a similar zip to hers on the crotch and he grunted as he slung his leg over, his grandmother sinking down onto his cock as if she really wanted to take him inside her. Her pussy wrapped itself around him and sucked him deep, her cunt already wet -- it was as if she'd been waiting for him to grind back inside her all over again!
"Unnff..." Steve grunted, biting his lip, struggling to come back to himself. "G-great. But your tits too... Uh, they need to be in my hands. For safety, yes... Safety."
He wasn't even sure that he was buying his own words anymore but Agatha happily wiggled her chest for him, letting her breasts sway and jiggle wonderfully, an open invitation for the groping caress of his hands. Her nipples brushed through against his palms and he grunted, fingering the mesh that truly did not cover anything at all, low-cut too so that he could drag her tits out at a moment's notice, however he pleased.
It could not have been more perfect.
With his cock inside her, Agatha seemed to know just how to operate the bike, handling it like an experienced rider as he revelled in controlling her. Of course, he could have just had her buy the bike and then take it out himself but just where would the fun have been in that? No, it was much better to fly along the road with his grandmother in his lap, cock grinding up into her pussy where it belonged, tingling on the edge of orgasm already even from the light shift of her body during the very start of their ride.
It could not have been more exhilarating as they shot through the suburbs, cutting through the idealistic view of reality with a wild whoop and a shout that carried -- oh, how it carried. Agatha's hair streamed from under her biking helmet (if he was going to go for the leathers, safety was needed in that regard) and she could have been a much, much younger woman in the moment as her grandson squeezed and groped her tits, massaging them with his hands. He was more than comfortable on the back of a bike, although his own was an older model and most certainly not the coveted Harley, but something about having Agatha control it was lewder still to him, fulfilling a deeper-set fantasy in his heart and soul that Steve had not even known that he'd had. And it was those very desires and fantasies that he was set on bringing forth into the sweet light of day at long last.
She rode his cock as they flew down the road, cutting through a lightly more rural spot, although it could not be denied that they were still close to the city, the throbbing life-force of concrete streets and glaring lights. The day concealed them from view, of course, but they flew by a park set along with black railings, autumn leaves whipping by their wheels. They could not help but turn heads, cutting through a flare of exhibitionism, and Steve laughed out loud, breath whisked away on the wind of their passing.
Orgasm whistled upon him so subtly that it took him a moment to recognise and lean into it, eyes strained with watery joy. Again and again as they took their liberty with the ride, he fucked her, ejaculating all he had to give into her, revelling in his youth and vitality, all that allowed him to do as he pleased. Maybe a male body was indeed more capable of rising to the occasion than he gave it credit for but that most certainly was not something that Steve was at all about to complain about as her teasing pussy gripped and twitched around his cock, though he could not be sure whether she was doing it actively as Agatha coaxed climax after climax from him, one after the other. Moaning into her ear, he leaned into his grandmother, heart pounding. Never before had he experienced such bliss!
His cock ground up into her, seated right where he wanted it to be but he did not dare lick his lips in such a position, heaving for breath, chest tight with passion. He wanted her and he had her and he lusted for her, squeezing and massaging her tits, the flesh of her breasts squashed between his fingers. Her jacket covered most of what he was doing but, truly, someone with a keen eye could not help but notice just what was going on as he roared on by, a police car darting out from a side street with lights on and sirens blaring.
It took him a moment to realise what had happened, anger snarling up, clawing up through his chest. Just who did they think they were to try to stop him from having his fun? It wasn't as if he was doing anything wrong! Of course, his perception of wrong and right in that instance was not quite the same as what the law deemed to be so and the car shot up behind them, a flash of Agatha's buttocks on show as she lifted herself up a little higher.
"What do we do, Steve?"
He clenched his jaw, fingers digging into her tits.
"Lose the fucker!"
And so it was done, Agatha gunning down on the throttle and taking off as if the hounds of hell were after her. Though Steve would have personally considered the cop more of a pig in the moment, snarling and growling at his retreating car, the bike zipping away as if it was much lighter and more ethereal than it actually was. He had no real beef with the police but, god damn -- did he know how to spoil a good time!
Of course, the car zoomed after them, their head start only temporary as he shouted and drove Agatha on into a high-speed chase, heart pounding, her tits hot and heavy in his hands. Her pulse jumped in her throat and he screamed at her to keep going, orgasm after orgasm crashing over him, though not even Steve could truly have understood as it was happening just how exhilaration could course through his body, affecting that part of him too. One orgasm or a continued milking -- none of it mattered, just the whistling throb of pleasure pushing them on over and over again, seething through where it could. And Agatha climaxed right along with him, her pussy pulling at and massaging his cock as if she was striving to pleasure him, her moans lost in the wind and his shouts of delight.
A chase... Who could have thought that something like that could be so erotic, could get them off so many times? Agatha whimpered, pussy tight, sopping wet and still trembling on the edge of yet another climax. The police car dropped back behind them as she worked the throttle, speeding off into the distance, although they had ridden into a more urbanised area. Concrete and parking lots, however, allowed them somewhere to hide and a distraction, at least, from how good his cock in her pussy made her feel.
It was hard to concentrate but, of course, not impossible as she sped around, whipping down a side street and scattering a pushbike -- the kind that had to be pedalled along manually. Boring! Her heart leapt and twisted as she swung around, tipping the bike, yet neither of them could feel a lick of fear in their hearts for it all, ducking down into an undercover, underground car park where artificial lights illuminated their way in glaring, unflattering strips.
