Curses

Chapter 5: Motorcycle Mamma - Goin' Down the Road

Olivia swabbed her crotch with a towel, and laughed when she saw me pick up my shirt and pants, all completely shredded by my movie-type werewolf transformation.

"Flasher wear, huh? Anything in that bag you brought?"

"Sure. Dirty socks and underwear, plus..." I tugged out my red dress and held it up. "Um, yeah. Size three."

"Me too. We can work with that." She closed her eyes, and I felt myself changing again. And as I did, it occurred to me that it was well past dawn, so basically she was re-booking me. I'd thought this wasn't possible.

Glancing in the mirror, I was not surprised to find that this girl and I now shared more than just dress size. Swinging my red tresses over my bare freckled shoulders, I said, "So I'm Olivia now?"

She paused and gave me an odd look. "You're newly gifted, aren't you? Sorry. I suppose I should have guessed. Did a tall, black-haired woman curse you? Dressed in a hippy-peasant sorta style?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, that'll be Sheila. Irish - odd sense of humor. You'll be fine. Anyhow, today we're Olivia. Take whatever you like from my closet ... teal looks great on us. Especially given our fondness for golden accents."

My piercings had stuck around through four body changes so far, and I wondered if they were a permanent addition. "Thanks!"

While I pulled on the gauzy little dress Oli handed me, she said, "You can get around town better like that. Dressed, I mean."

Taking her own advice, she grabbed a ragged robe off a hook, and pulled it on as she trotted up the stairs. "Listen - the only thing you need to know is that you have veto power over your transformations. It would be great for us to play some more. Come back this way anytime. Love ya!"

So the curse had loopholes - or unwritten rules, at least. And Olivia was somehow aware of them. Something new to think about. I scooped up some energy bars from a big basket by the door and let myself out.

>< >< ><

It was Sunday morning, and I would be Olivia until the next dawn - and longer, if I steered clear of people. I found my way to a little neighborhood park and sat on a bench to enjoy a little normalcy. And breakfast. What to do next?

What, indeed. Olivia had called my affliction a gift - but she'd made no suggestion it could be reversed. And she clearly knew other things about my situation that I did not. I was so discombobulated, I'd come away with only the clothes on my back - that sexy little blue-green dress and sandals. Even the notion of panties and a bra had not entered my mind. Regardless, just a sack on this body would generate more wicked fantasies in two blocks than my original self could have done all the way back to Frisco.

Idly fondling my left tit, I contemplated ... well, to be honest, I contemplated getting laid - as always, now. But I also I thought that, just maybe, forgetting all my stuff with Oli meant I wanted to stick around. I had no real ties back in the city. Also, I'd have far more control of events in this town - which really did have a college nearby. I'd hugely underestimated Olivia but, on the whole, middle class fantasies were probably easier to predict ... if I actually wanted that.

"Hey, Olivia. Long time, no see!"

I looked up to see a good-looking dude dressed in tee-shirt, jeans and leather jacket. He and all his clothes were black. "Hey you," I improvised. Then a bit of my body double's memory surfaced - or maybe I was feeding off this guy's fantasy. "How's it hanging, Randy?"

"Left side as always, girl."

"Cocky," I said. I wondered how far beyond banter these two got, and my wet pussy promptly answered that question. He was hot, alright, and he obviously knew it. I put him as a little older than my present status, maybe twenty. "Wanna do it on your bike again?"

Again? I was confused. Technically, I was still assigned to Olivia, if I understood this curse thing. Was this his fantasy, or had I triggered one of hers? Or was I free to go solo? Just now, it hardly mattered. I certainly did want to do it - although I wouldn't normally have thought of a motorcycle.

"Girl, I wanna do it wherever I'm at."

He must have seen my happy nipples pushing against my thin dress, and I could certainly see his jeans bulge. But I just stuck my tongue out at him (which had never been my go-to response to anything) and then I honest-to-god scampered toward his bike, my hair streaming behind. When I got to the sidewalk, I stood admiring his machine - a vintage air-cooled V-twin, displaying pink sidewalls and discrete rhinestones.

I thought about asking Randy about the girly touches, but then I became seriously distracted - I felt my skin crawl and knew I was changing again. Looking at my arms, I realized my skin was rapidly darkening and getting glossy; and feeling a breeze on my neck, I reached up to feel my hair reduced to a spiky crew-cut. I also recognized the now familiar weight of my boobs growing two or three sizes.

By the time Randy got there (he hadn't troubled to run at all), I looked like I had been lightly dipped in black latex. He grinned, and pulled my dress up over my head. I was shiny and now naked, but no one seemed to notice. To confirm this, I tugged on my enhanced, fat nipples and then spun in a circle while holding my labia wide spread - nothing. Not that I was invisible ... an old lady had to steer around us, with a vague smile and nod. But unless Oli had brought her neighbors to an unusual level of what was considered normal, these folks weren't really registering what we were up to.

Randy brought me back to the business at hand by riffling my bristly hair; and I knew what to do next. Unbuttoning his jeans, I pulled his cock free (from his left trouser leg, as promised) and proceeded to lick and suck on it. While I suspected the guy I'd fucked on Friday had upgraded himself with his fantasy, Randy seemed pretty self-assured about the substantial meat he was flourishing.

Having brought his 'extra leg' to a state of rigidity, I stood up so that he could lift me over the thing and fuck my shiny black cunt, then and there. I was so hot, what with being magnificently drilled in public - even (or maybe especially) if nobody paid us any attention - that I came almost right away. And I kept coming, as he stretched my borrowed cunny and filled my belly with his hot flesh. All the while he was squeezing my ass cheeks (which he was using as handles), and teasing my tits with his tongue and teeth whenever they bounced within reach.

When he finally came himself, I felt his hot spunk surge deep inside me, and I screamed. Several people finally turned to look, but even staring straight at us, they seemed not to grasp what we were doing.

Chuckling, Randy unwrapped my arms from his neck, tossed my dress and sandals a little saddlebag and said, "Time for that ride, now."

As ever, I seemed to know what to do just as I was meant to do it. Now, I climbed onto his pink-trimmed Harley with my crotch on the saddle just behind the smallish gas tank. Then I lifted my legs nearly horizontally to prop my feet onto pegs fitted high behind his. At the same time, I leaned forward onto the tank, so that my breasts were squished out on each side and my neck nestled onto a padded bit of handlebar, between speedo and tach. In that position, I was able to grip handles mounted low on the forks.

All that was left to do was arch my back to lift my butt, so as to present my leaking pussy to my lover. I wondered how long I could hold this position ... and then I felt my body meld into the machine. My hands simply merged with the grips they held, and my elbows became springs alongside the bike's shocks; while my chest sort of blended with the tank, so that my tits finished up boldly thrust forward into the open air. At the same time, my legs thinned out, fairing along where Randy's legs would cross over mine, and my ankles flowed into my foot pegs, finishing up bolted to the frame with my toes pointed straight back.

As each of my bits settled into place, I felt them become rigid, and when the view from my fixed, open eyes become tinted, I knew that from the outside they were as shiny and black as all the rest of the bike. I had become both a structural and ornamental part of the thing.

"I'd love to see a picture of this," I said, and then "Oh!" as I realized my mouth still worked.

"Good idea," said Randy, with a laugh. He pulled out his phone and circled me, taking photos from all angles. "Try not to shout, 'Yahoo' or 'FUCK ME!' like last time, okay? There, done. Maybe I'll post them, later."

The thought of him sharing these images caused me to cream a little, which revealed that my squirting pussy was (unsurprisingly) still open for business. Also - last time?

When my man boarded his bike, he boarded me - thrusting his glorious cock deep into where I craved it. That maneuver - and my gasp, in spite of his request to keep the volume down - brought grins of approval to a pair of local girls just within my field of vision. 'They can see us,' I thought. 'Now everyone can see me!' I suspected that they had staked out Randy's familiar machine, just waiting for the moment when I became visible and this hot biker mounted me. A fresh orgasm was definitely starting to build.

He straddled my saddle and gripped my brake and throttle, and I felt a boot drive down hard to kick-start me ... and then I was thrilling to the roar of my engine as he gunned me. The girls waved and we launched off with a spray of gravel flying from under my tires. We were rolling ... and I was coming!

He steered me downtown, which was great because there'd be lots of people to see us. And while he chose to keep the entirety of his cock sheathed inside me, the throb of my engine and the feel of my cunt milking the length of him worked together to keep him delightfully hard. Plus every time he braked, his body was thrown hard against my shiny butt to deliver just that little bit extra.

So there we were, tooling down main-street, my throaty roar announcing our arrival - and, hopefully, drowning out my helpless gasps as my orgasms rolled on. Thus alerted, people watched me cruise past, as I displayed first my gleaming chrome headlights and my proudly erect head and nipples. Then, as we passed them by, they could see my shiny flanks and elevated butt - which together guided their eyes to the spot where my handsome rider's unseen member was lodged inside my grasping cunt.

Soon, we were out on a highway, and my exhilarating speed - and my much louder roar - brought me to an even greater level of excitement. Weaving past slower traffic and cumming continuously, mile after mile, I was wailing now, with my pussy locked hard onto its prey.

Eventually Randy began having issues steering me - which at one hundred miles per hour was a bit distracting - and had to swing into a lay-by. He'd barely stopped, with my engine still idling, when he managed to put all his focus on thrusting into me properly. He quickly came, big time. His powerful spurts of cum launched in an arc out of my mouth, which served to quiet me at last, in spite of my own orgasm. It tasted fine, though.

After he'd shut me off and we both settled down a little, I said, "Um. There's cum on my chin. And a bunch more on my boobs and front fender."

"And?"

"And there's a hose hanging on that fence."

"Fair enough." He pulled himself free of my still twitching depths and gave me a thorough rinsing - dust, bug-splatters and cum were all washed away. Then, after giving my damp ass an affectionate rub, he came back around to my front end to show me his now drooping member. "I'm not sure I can force this into that clenching cunt of yours."

"Bring it closer, then."

He straddled my fender and offered the tip to my mouth. Then, gripping the slightly sagging middle, he eased the thing forward, spreading my lips ever wider with it until he could lean in and begin to stroke it down my throat. I couldn't help him, of course, except to work his length with my tongue and throat muscles. Nor could I so much as blink to acknowledge my pleasure, although he was well aware that he was already hard enough to breach my other end.

After blasting another load into me - which I could feel leaking out onto my saddle - he drew his tool back out, and showed me the re-invigorated shaft he was about to restore to my pussy.

"Oh, God! Yes! Please!"

Nodding to the shocked couple at a nearby picnic table, he strolled around me and gave my ass a pat. Then he climbed back aboard me - putting his cock back where it belonged - and gave me the throttle. With a roar, we launched back onto the highway, and I launched back into another extended, rapturous orgasm.

After maybe twenty more miles flew past, he took the next exit to launch me full speed down a quiet secondary road. I think I might have been singing or, more likely, chanting "Fuck ME!" ... despite orders to the contrary.