Curses

Chapter 6 - Motorcycle Mamma - Coming Up the Road

We were hurtling down a country road, and the echoing rumble of my engine's snarling roar was synced with my orgasm - I'd been cumming almost constantly since he'd first kick-started me this morning. After we'd put some barely noticed farmland behind us, Randy launched me along some exhilarating twisty roads. But eventually we had to pull into an old-timey gas station.

The single pump was being used to fill another black bike - by a beautiful blond girl who was dressed in black leathers, much like the man who rode me. My well-hung hero simply shut off my engine and waited until she was done fueling her own ride. Once she'd fully focused on us, he eased his stiff pole out of my stylishly molded tank-cunt and crossed the ten feet toward her.

I saw her gobsmacked expression, and could imagine how the sight of his bobbing manhood was mesmerizing her. Gently, he undressed the unresisting girl right in front of me - allowing me to see her generous curves. She dropped to her knees, just as I had earlier, to worship his scepter; but, given that he was already hard, he soon lifted her back to her feet and led her by the hand beside me. They were now out of my line of sight, but I heard his voice, a quiet murmur ... and then I felt her silky belly land across my saddle and her thighs slide against my side frame as she opened her legs to him.

This was followed by the weight of him as he thrust his cock, now most thoroughly greased by his juices and mine, to the hilt inside the girl. She cried out at the impact - and I would have been far more jealous than I was, but that I knew who he'd be fucking all the way home.

To brace herself, she reached back to grip my taillight in one hand, and my up-thrust ass with the other. The only handhold in that vicinity was, of course, was where my hard plastic shell transitioned into my soft and yielding cunt. She hesitated, probably not having previously noticed that detail, and then she tried to get a better hold. Between the puddle of cum already on the saddle, and what was still flowing back out of me, she had no luck ... until she wedged her hand right inside me.

Having been shut down, I was pretty placid; but even so I couldn't help but clamp my pussy hard onto this most welcome intrusion. She squealed, I moaned, and Randy laughed as he fucked on. I could feel her wrist rock against me with his thrusts, and I could also feel her fingers exploring my depths.

She was soon in the throes of an impressive orgasm, for which I chose to take partial credit. After some flailing and yelling, she settled down enough for him to yank free, reposition her on my back, and then slam his iron cock back inside her - in about the time it takes to tell.

Now she was straddling me, with her back against my pussy, oblivious to the cum still leaking from inside me to mingle with her own juices pooling on my saddle. He too was astride me, pounding deeply into her. His bullish thrusts were being transmitted to me, and soon my gasps were joining in with hers. And then she threw out her arms to grasp my handlebars, the better to push her crotch against him - which had the effect of driving her lower spine hard onto my cunt.

I lost it yet again and whimpered as my pussy lips, squished between us, tried to grip her vertebrae. She was well into her third or fourth orgasm, by this time. It was when her next one came round that she started to shout.

"Yes! Yes! Put a baby in me!"

"Fuck, yeah, Roger! Give her a load of your sperm-stuffed spew!" So, okay, I was drawn into the moment. Up until then, I'd always assumed this sort of dialogue could only be found in bad porn movies. Not that she reacted to my yelled input - she wouldn't have noticed if I'd licked her ear.

Five minutes later, she'd been played out. He left his wang in her for a bit, and I could feel her body twitching on top of me. But then he told me, "Looks like she's down for the count."

"Damn," I answered. "I was looking forward to a lip-lock with her."

"Ha! Which end?"

"When you put it that way, each of mine with each of hers woulda been nice."

Randy unplugged himself, saying, "That would take until dark. We've got some miles to go yet." Then he carefully carried the girl to the bench in front of the place's little office, and set her down so her head was cradled in the lap of the old man who'd watched the whole thing. The guy just stroked her hair, so gently that I figured he'd manage to sort her out when she came around. Randy must have thought so, anyhow. He nodded to the old dude, then went inside and paid the kid more than enough cash for two tanks of gas. After that, he came back to finally give me the premium we'd stopped to get.

Once he'd rolled me to the pump, he unscrewed my gas cap. I'd been completely unaware that the thing was there, fitted high in the middle of my back. The sensation of the cool fluid streaming into me, flowing first into my belly, and then swirling up to fill my breasts and chest, was absolutely fantastic.

Having resealed my gas cap, Randy proceeded to mount me and fire me up. Between the fueling, and my receiving the length of his relentless cock back inside me again, and being kicked and throttled back into roaring life, well, I came right then and there ... and started honking my horn. I heard Randy laugh, but he also swatted my plastic bum. I took the hint and stopped, although of course it didn't hurt.

The pavement was warm in the sunshine - it felt good under my wheels. My tire pressure was good, and so was my oil pressure and volume. I was topped up with gas, and we were good to go. We continued along the scenic route - Randy was obviously on board (so to speak) with making a day of it. I purred down the new-to-me roads, taking in the sights along with the marvelous sensations.

Once, a police car approached us from the opposite direction and slowed down enough to give us a look-over. Randy eased off the throttle and the cop approved of his stylin' ride (me) and gave us a small wave - while I'd been worrying whether my registration and insurance was in order. But then he was gone.

My owner gunned me, and I felt alive, the racing wind blowing hard on my face and boobs, and nicely cooling my V-twin heart. That is when I finally registered that I had no heart beat, only the pulse of my engine. Yet here I was, and if stayed this way, well, I was fine with that - preferably if Randy was one of those single guys who kept their machine in their living room. Then I could watch him screw his girlfriends until he fired me up again.

Whatever. There was a long fucking road ahead of us.

>< >< ><

It was nearly dark when we got back to town. Randy asked me to bring myself down to a dull roar, but I knew he was teasing me. With my little muffler I was already as close to stealth mode as possible. A rain squall a few miles out had given me a fresh rinse so I was feeling clean again, and ... satisfied. Randy wheeled me into Olivia's carport, and shut me down. Then he unsheathed his valiant tool and climbed off me.

I lay there, mildly confused at the lack of vibration and noise. And then I realized I couldn't feel the concrete floor under my wheels. My heart was ticking over quite nicely, and my neck had just enough of a crick to account for all of two minutes in this uncomfortable position.

Randy slipped his hands under my chest and thighs and lifted me off the bike, but I was way too wobbly to stand.

"This usually seems to help," he said, as he leaned me forward over the saddle and took me once more from behind; but this time he drove hard and fast to successfully draw one last come for the day out of both of us. This time he licked my pussy clean and, when he stood me back up, I proved him right by staying that way.

I was back to my own or, I should say, Olivia's shape - and I'd seen the reflective shine of my skin fade while I was doubled over. He handed me my stuff, gave me a hard kiss, and then got back on the bike, saying, "See you next time, lover!"

Bet you say that to all your motorcycles, I thought, as he sped away. Before the echo of his machine had faded, Olivia herself came around from her back door - starkers, as usual. I was likewise naked - and also a bit wobbly, standing there holding her dress and leaking some leftover cum Randy had missed.

"Hiya! Cool, you're still black ... oh, and let me lick off the rest of Randy's cum before you put our dress back on. He's not as thorough as he thinks."

"How did you ... Oh, right, everybody around here must have heard me coming," I said, as I spread my legs for her.

"You weren't squealing that loud - I've never had much left in me either, by the time he drops me off." She applied her tongue to my pussy and thighs while I thought about my day.

"Did he really think I was you?"

Olivia finished her chore, smacked her lips and stood up. "For sure - he sent me these photos with a message saying, 'Here are those pix you wanted. Take you out for a ride again soon'." She held out her phone for me to see myself.

"Oh my God! Look at me! I didn't realize ..."

"Yeah, he makes you into a sexy custom fairing and tank, and puts you in charge of his bike. But you can't tell how pulled and stretched you are. Look at yer tits - they're like Cadillac bumper bullets!"

I gave her a look, and she added, "As my old man used to say ..."

"Uh-huh," I said.

"Ha! If you liked that shot, check out this one ..."

"Fuck!" It was a photo of my butt. My outer lips were as black and shiny as all the rest of me, but my well-exposed inner pussy flesh was a deep shade of pink. And just like my other end, my big clit-ring flashed in the sunshine ... and drew even more attention down there.

"Hee hee! That's the first thing I thought of, too. But most of the time, you were doing exactly that - fucking! So, you know - everybody could see that, too. Don't tell me it didn't turn you on ..."

I didn't need to answer - my leakage had increased and was lubing my thighs.

"Hey," Oli said. "I just finished licking you clean down there. Oh, well ..." Just before she bobbed down to re-visit that chore, she handed me her phone and said, "Look at this one!"

I found myself gazing at a side view that showed me in all my gleaming steel, plastic and chrome-spoked glory. And, fastened along my leg molding from knee to ankle, I saw a stretch of gleaming trim script that read: 'Lady Godiva'.

>< >< ><

Olivia and I (Black Olivia, for the time being) fucked pretty much the whole night, this time keeping those bodies, although this included the occasional elongation of tongues and clits. In the early hours, we took a snuggle break and I told her about my first two 'clients'. She listened without comment - barring a few stifled laughs when I told her about my embarrassing struggles with that hose the day we'd met. After my confessions, my first question was, "How do the rules to this actually work?"

"Rules?"

I recited the curse in full: "'Should someone entertain a sexual fantasy in your vicinity in the future, you will fulfill it ... until dawn, should they wish it so.' Only it's a bit thin on detail."

"Oh, that. Yeah, the thing is, they're more what you'd call guidelines, than actual rules. Let's go back to how this happened. You ran into Sheila, who was in a mood. All I know is that she's some sort of super powerful sorceress, or maybe a demi-goddess. For some unknowable reason, she comes to town once in a long while and slums as some sorta hedgerow witch. And she's chosen to transfer a load of mojo to you. To us."

"But ... what are we?"

"Good question. Enablers, I suppose. In a good way, actually. I've turned down gigs when they were gonna go to bad places. Your first experiences were a little weirder than most, for sure. And they were newbies. Those folks rarely grasp what happened to them, even when we're still there. But they all get a warm glow out of it."

"And Randy?"

"He's a repeat customer. I've had quite a few of those, over the years."

"Years? This isn't reversible, is it?"

"Not so far as I know. And like I told you the other day, I'm older than I look."

"Um - I must have missed that." I'd begun to guess as much, though.

She just shrugged, and then I heard a stomp from above. "Olivia! Its way past midnight - turn down the TV!"

I glanced up. "And your mother?"

My host smiled warmly. "Grace is absolutely one of my regulars. She lost her only daughter, a long time back. Not every fantasy has to be sexual, although I've always figured she gets some vicarious thrills from my activities down here. I don't even have a televisory receiver." She winked. "Anyway, now I'm her permanently teenaged Olivia."

I noticed that Oli hadn't told me her actual age, her birth gender (for whatever that was worth), or even what her original name was - and I decided that I too would adopt a nom de gare ... tomorrow.

In the meantime, I rolled Oli onto her knees and, while stroking my swiftly growing clit-cock, said, "this time, you're the motor-velocipede!"