|
The Motorcyclist
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
THE MOTORCYCLIST
The day was warm; the sun high. The sleek black machine
sped along the macadam, hugging the tight curves and cruising
over the long straight-a-ways. My destination? Nowhere.
Everywhere! I was on my own; free. No questions to answer; no
explanations to make up; no strings attached. Traveling light --
that's me! All I had was packed in the saddle bags. There were
no regrets. A few happy moments to remember. A whole world out
there to explore.
The bike felt good under me. The rhythmic vibrations of
the motor, the constant movement of the two wheels over the rough
surface -- all these gave me a sensuous feeling. Leather encased
thighs tingled as they wrapped themselves around the steadily
oscillating gas tank. Warm air rushed though my denim covered
crotch, cooling it. My balls savored every motion of the bike,
sending sensations upwards to an ever responsive cock.
Yeah. It was a warm one. And I knew it was going to
get hotter. That morning I had decided not to wear full leather:
I had put on chaps. Besides, I liked the way they looked. The
sleek black leather reaching from my boots to where they rode low
on my hips; underneath, the faded blue Levis showing off my tight
firm ass, and good sized basket always ready and willing! Last
piss stop I had stowed my shirt in the saddle bag. The leather
vest was cooler; and protected my back from the sun. It would
catch the wind. Flap against the well developed pecs softly
beating the nipples to a state of tantalizing attention. I felt
good. Next to sex this was the greatest feeling going. Opening
the throttle I really began burning rubber.
Caught up in my own fantasy, the real world slipped by.
A wailing sound jolted me back to earth! "Shit! Where the hell
did they come from?" I asked myself, looking down the business
end of a siren screeching police car in my rear vision mirror.
"Too late to try to outrun it," I thought, as I eased back on the
throttle and drew to a stop.
"Well, what do we have here, Hank?" the driver said as
he slid from behind the wheel and walked towards me, hand on
holster.
"Better play it cool. These local yokels look like they
mean business," I mused as I waited for them to reach me. "No
sudden movements, not the way that guy is fingering that rod!" I
tried to smile.
The driver was a big bruiser; well built. If a good
body in a glued on uniform were the qualifications, this guy was
a real hunk. Hank, the other guy, was no slouch, either. A
little less muscular, but lean -- and hung! These boys did mean
business. "Hit the ground. Face down," ordered the driver.
"Spread eagle!" I wasn't going to argue with this goon. I did
as I was told. "Now ain't that a sight, Hank?" He roughly
kicked my feet further apart as he stood over me. "Moving kinda
fast, weren't you, fella?"
"Guess, so," I answered.
"Oh, you guess so, huh? Maybe you was tryin' to put a
little distance between you and Jake's place," he growled at me
(I was to later find out that Jake's place was a gas
station/store that someone had ransacked the night before).
"Cuff him and let's bring him in."
My arms were yanked behind me. I could feel the cold
steel close around my wrists. None too gently, I was pulled to
my feet and prodded back to the waiting patrol car. "Hey, what
about my bike? What about my gear?" I asked.
"We don't steal out here," the driver mumbled.
Hank, for the first time spoke, "We'll pick it up later.
It'll be OK." Off we sped, back from where I had come.
We came to a wide spot in the road. There was a four
corners; a gas station on one of them; no more than a dozen
houses at best, and the police station (what there was of it).
It was a real dump -- a small wooden building sturdy enough to
withstand little more than a loud noise. Once inside, it was no
better. A large room, part of it away from the door partitioned
off by little more than heavy chicken wire and two by fours; the
rest of it was bare except for a couple of wooden chairs, a desk,
something that looked like a gun rack (no guns), and
miscellaneous assorted hardware fastened to the walls. The
"cell" had an old mattress thrown on the floor. At least the
place had been swept out sometime in the last six months!
"Strip him, Hank." Hank moved towards me.
"Hey, what're you guys up to?" I asked.
Hank half grinned. "We gotta search you. Drugs and all
that crap," he said as he unbuckled the chaps. Then he knelt in
front of me, reached under my crotch to unzip the chaps. His
hand lingered just a moment too long under my balls. It sent a
shiver up my now limp tool. He must have noticed the movement.
Pursing his lips, he softly blew warm air at the growing bulge.
Then, unzipping the inseams, the chaps fell to the floor.
"Get those Levis off him, Hank."
"Sure thing," as he quickly unbuttoned the fly. One
yank and they were to my ankles.
"Sit down," I was ordered. The chief honcho gave me a
shove, hand on my chest, and I went down with a thud.
"Take it easy. I still got these damned cuffs on!" I
retorted.
They both ignored me. Hank pulled off my boots. Honcho
(never did find out the guy's name) roughly pulled me to my feet
and threw me down on the bare desk. My head hit with a thud,
dazing me. My limp prick slapped against the side of the desk.
Some one was probing my ass. "He's clean," I heard Hank say.
There was the sound of a key turning; I felt the steel fall away
from one wrist, then the other.
"Stand up." Confused, I did so. Honcho spun me around
facing the open "cell" and gave my ass a fair boot catapulting me
inside. Hank started to toss my belongings in after me. Honcho
snatched the Levis from him. "Not these," he said. "Have you
gone through them, yet?" he asked. Hank shook his head. "Give
him the rest of that crap. We'll hold these out." He winked at
Hank, who grinned back. They let me have my boots, socks, and
chaps. I still had the vest on.
Feeling a little foolish, I decided it was best to put
on what I had. At least it was better than standing around bare
ass naked. Not much better, but some. Slowly I pulled on first
one sock, then the other followed by the boots. Finally I put on
the chaps. They fit snugly; but they left my tight ass
protruding as a tempting target. My long dick hung down in
front. "Now ain't he just something!" Honcho sneered.
"Sure is," Hank grinned. "We sure got ourselves a live
one this time," he added.
"You trot on over to Jake's and pick up some of that
grease stuff you like to use. I'll watch this here desperado,"
Honcho laughed. "I don't think he'll be going nowhere. Not like
that." He laughed again. This guy was making me nervous. He
had something up his sleeve. Hank disappeared out the door.
Honcho turned one of the chairs back to me, straddled it and sat
facing me. Tipping his uniform cap to the back of his head, arms
folded on the chair back, he said, "What's a nice looking fella
like you doing around these parts?"
Cautiously, I answered him. "Just passing through." I
didn't want to rile him -- any wise answers might not go too well
for me.
"Just passing through," he repeated. "Now ain't that
just dandy. Oughtn't someone know where you're at?" he added,
almost a little too solicitously.
"Nope. They know where I was and they know where I'm
supposed to be. So, I reckon they'll figure out where I am when
I don't get there." It may have been the wrong answer. But I
didn't want to play him for a complete fool and tell him of
course someone knew where I was. That just didn't fit the scene.
I knew it. And I was pretty sure he knew it. He just sat there
staring at me.
"Well, I wouldn't worry none about it if I were you.
We'll take good care of you. Now a good looking young fella like
you ain't going to go get himself lost, now is he?" Getting up,
he walked over near the wire separating us. He'd picked up a
ruler somewhere, and he was tapping it slowly against one palm as
he spoke. "That's a big one you got there, boy. One of the
biggest I ever seen," starring down at my dangling cock. Not
knowing what direction this nut was about to veer off on I said
nothing. A minute or more must have passed. "Hank, you know,
the other officer, he's my brother-in-law. Married his sister,
the slut. Hank's taken a hankering to ya," he laughed at his own
play on words. "Yeah, I think he really goes for you." Boy, was
I dumb. Why hadn't I seen their game before -- not that I could
have done much about it. "Yes sir, Hank's real queer. Had a
problem with him couple of years back. Made him my deputy. Now
he ain't got no more problems. Yeah, he's real taken with you,
fella."
Honcho turned, walked back to the chair he had been
sitting in; tapped it with the toe of his boot. "Yeah, I watched
Hank set in this here chair. He'd rub himself up something
fierce when he thought he weren't being looked at." He just
seemed to drone on, now. "I told him it weren't no good, just
rubbing it. Gotta play with it if you want relief." He kept
drumming the ruler he held against the palm of his hand. I think
he liked the slap of it. "He'd set there, play with it. He'd
really like that." Sitting on the desk, he continued almost as
though he was talking to himself. "It growed pretty big. Real
hard like, and then it would shoot. Yes sir. That sure was a
sight. Him jacking off and shooting load after load till it just
ran down his fingers." This guy's dancing through a daisy field
without all his petals!
Swinging around, he advanced slowly towards me, still
slapping that damned ruler. "He used to beg me to let him lick
mine, while he jerked off. But, hell, I ain't one of them
perverts. Kept at it, though." Looking me squarely in the face,
he added, "Tell you what I did do, though." He laughed. "Had
this here guy in here from the city -- like you. Figured it
wouldn't hurt none to let Hank try it on him. "Repositioning the
chair close to the wire mesh, he sat astride it again. This time
the hand holding the ruler resting on the back; his other hand
fell to his crotch. "Happened right about where you're
standin'." He was sighting down the ruler right at the head of
my arching cock. "Hank took that guy's pecker, licked on it real
nice until it growed awful big. Put the whole thing in his
mouth, then. That fella sure shook and groaned like he was
having the time of his life. Fact is, he seemed to be having so
much fun the next time Hank asked I figured I'd let him take
mine." Looking up at me, he quickly added, "He'd have to beg for
it, ya know!"
The door opened. Hank came bursting in. "They didn't
have none of that grease you wanted. But Jake said this'd do as
well," holding up a plastic jug of corn oil. "Better for ya,
too, he said." Hank laughed as Honcho thought this new turn of
events over.
"He don't know shit!" Honcho mumbled. "You didn't tell
him nothing?" he added almost in panic.
"No. You said I wasn't to tell," came the dutiful
answer.
"Get that guy out here. You wanta have some fun, now,
don't ya," he winked at Hank. Looking back at me, Honcho added,
"You don't give him no trouble and you won't get none. You
wouldn't give our guest a hard time, now would you Hank?" The
snickers told me just how hard a time I was going to get.
I'd had some wild times; real sex orgies. Real swinging
parties. Ass, tits, cocks, cunts -- the whole gambit. But these
two were a little strange. I'd been in tight spots before.
Playing it cool always seemed to be the best bet. Just play
along with them. Like judo, you go with the action and let them
throw themselves -- then run like hell. That seemed to be the
wisest move, for now. They had the upper hand. There were two
of them, one of them armed. If sex is what they're after, I
could play that game. And, like I said, they both were real
hunks. The missing marbles was what worried me.
Hank unlocked the door to my cell, motioned me to come
to it, "Right there, fella," he said as I stood in the doorway.
Honcho leaned back on the edge of the desk fingering his gun (the
real one). Before I knew it, Hank had snapped his bracelets
around one wrist and had hooked the other end to an eye bolt
embedded in the door frame. I started to raise one boot to kick
him. "Wouldn't do that, fella," I heard Honcho's calm voice.
Like he said, I didn't. My other wrist was secured to the
opposite door jam. "Now ain't that a pretty sight, Hank. Look
at them balls hanging there. And that pecker. You ain't just a
gonna let that hang like that are ya?" With that encouragement,
Hank took my cock in his right hand, squeezed it. His left was
stroking his own tool. Mine responded to his touch.
"It'll be OK," he whispered to me. Honcho couldn't hear
him. "We ain't gonna do nothing real bad," he added.
"You got that thing hard yet, Hank? Want to see it
hard; want to measure it." Honcho brushed Hank aside. He had
done his job. My prick was at least at half mast. There was
enough of it for Honcho to get his jollies. He put the ruler to
it. "Humm. Only seven and a half," he commented almost as if he
were reading a water pressure. He took the ruler and not too
gently slapped my rod back and forth. "Gotta make it grow. You
can do it fella," he said as he continued.
Hank had removed his uniform shirt and trousers.
Underneath them he had been wearing leather straps that came from
around his neck, down across smooth, hairless chest (almost
hiding the nipples on his well defined pecs), to a "V" at his
rock solid cock. The shaft and the balls underneath were snugly
held by a cock ring. He'd put his boots back on. The sight of
him made my rod grow another inch! "Eight and a half!" Honcho
exulted. "That's more like it. Hank, you get over here and
service this thing. I want to see at least nine inches out of
it." With that he pulled the chair over near the partition. He
took off his uniform shirt, left his visored cap on; sat on the
chair watching me from a profile position. Hank had come over,
knelt on one knee in front of me. He gently massaged my balls
with one hand as he gripped my upright tool with the other. His
hands were warm. They slid up and down the shaft effortlessly.
They were covered with the oil!
Honcho, bare chested, was fingering one of his nipples
as he stroked possibly the largest hardon I'd ever seen! His ham
sized fist barely covered half of it as he rhythmically moved it
-- back and forth, making the well rounded head swell even more.
His balls lay in the open "V" of his fly. His hand would pound
down against them, rebound up the shaft -- over and over.
Hank had reached under my balls, expertly inserted his
well oiled fingers between the cheeks of my ass, into the waiting
hole. He reached inside, gently probing with first one, then two
fingers. I could feel his whole hand deftly guiding itself
through the opening; now it was in me! The touch of his gently
probing hand sent sensuous thrills to the tip of my cock. It
must have grown to ten inches by now!
"That's it, boy. Make it grow!" Honcho now had both
his fists feverishly working that wondrous shaft. And there was
plenty of it left over. Fingers, white from the intense grip he
held, flew up and down with fantastic speed.
Hank's lips slipped over the throbbing head of my now
ten and a half inches. The lubricated hand firmly milked the
shaft as the other explored deep inside me, touching all the
right spots to send me into orbit. The hand seemed to relax. Oh
no! He's beginning to remove it. I moaned with the pleasure as
it slowly retracted. I didn't want it to leave. I didn't want
him to stop. I didn't want to cum. As gently as it had entered,
the hand now withdrew sending an ultimate spasm of joy through
me. The other hand had also been removed, and now his lips were
sucking all of me deep down his throat. I could feel it close
against my aching knob! He held my root firmly as his tongue
stroked it.
My cheeks were being spread wider and wider. I could
feel his fingers at my butt hole again. "Oh please put your fist
up my ass," I silently pleaded. Instead, he was inserting a
large dildo. It vibrated sending rhythmic vibrations pulsing
through me, right up my cock to the very tip, still buried deep
in his sucking throat! In, and still further in, the dildo slid.
Each pulsing oscillation sent me further and further into orbit.
I threw my head back and moaned from the sheer joy.
"That's it, boy. Get him real hot!" Honcho's hand was
flying now. The knob bounced in its fury for relief. I
marvelled at how long he could keep that up without shooting. It
must be the tight grip he has on it. The cum can't get out, I
thought.
The dildo had slipped completely inside me. My
sphincter had closed over almost the entire enormity of it. Its
rhythmic movement continued. Hank slowly slid his lips along my
cock, my aching pulsing cock which was throbbing in unison as the
dildo massaged every sensitive spot inside me -- all at once. A
roaring hardon, freed against its will from those practiced lips,
stretched skyward. Hank gripped it in both of his hands, gently
applying more oil. He then stood, turned around, bent over. The
strap down his back had a second cock ring by his butt hole.
Reaching between his legs, he grasped my tool, kneaded it and my
balls through the ring steering the shaft into his anxiously
waiting hole. As his tight ass closed over the head I thought I
was going to fill him right then and there with hot cum. But the
shaft glided onward, deeper and deeper as his greedy ass clutched
at every last inch.
Honcho got up, tool in hand moved closer to Hank.
Releasing his swollen member, he presented the bulbous end to
Hank's parted lips. They covered it with warm, moist breath and
then sucked it in, pulling the entire length right to its base
after it, in one continuous motion.
Each thrust I made at Hank's tight ass he returned,
convulsing the entire anal cavity around my steel hard rod. The
dildo up my ass pulsed; I could feel the cum welling up in my
balls. With every stroke they flew against his ball sac. I only
hoped it felt as good to him as it did me.
It must have, because his oil drenched hand reached back
to massage them. He held the pouch, and then he held both
pouches in his warm, tantalizing fingers, stroking all four balls
in unison. His other hand held his long swollen cock, bending it
so the head pointed towards the floor. He pumped it in a full
sweeping motion from its base to the engorged cockhead, rubbing
and massaging its well lubricated firmness, and then back to the
base of the shaft; again and again his hand teased his inflamed
piston.
Hank's sucking lips slurped aound the head of Honcho's
cock, drawing juices closer and closer to bursting forth from the
tiny slit at the end. Honcho moaned and cried out. He was going
to cum. Hank took it all as Honcho released load after load.
Hank continued to suck as hot cum escaped the corners of his
mouth, ran down his chin dripping in large globs to the floor.
Hank pushed harder and harder against me taking every
last inch I had deep in his ass. I could feel my knob swell as
his grip on it increased with each thrust. The dildo continued
vibrating inside me, gently massaging me over the brink of
sanity. I couldn't hold it back any longer. I was going to
come. With explosive force, I shot my juices into that grabbing
cavern, trying to fill it but never succeeding. It sucked for
more and I gave it more. Load after load disappeared deep up his
ass; and yet he wanted more. He was insatiable! I slowed to a
trickle. He continued riding my pogo stick, begging for another
ejaculation. "Just one more time, please," I heard him moan.
His mouth was now free; dripping white juices, but free,
pleading for me to satisfy him. Oh how I wanted to! He was
still fondling both sets of balls as he pumped on his own piston.
Letting the two pouches hang free to rub and massage each other,
his fingers reached under them and found my plugged hole.
Deftly, he began moving the vibrating dildo back and forth inside
me. New excitement began to overtake my resting rod. It
quivered, began stretching to its full length again -- and
shooting. Slowly he began extracting the pulsating implement
from my ass. Each inch it retreated sent new spasms of cum
shooting deep inside him. As the dildo neared the end of its
travel, I drove my cock home in one massive thrust. Oh God!
This was it! He was coming! And so was I! Together we shot
load after load. This time I did fill him to satisfaction. His
limp tool hung in his motionless hand; although momentarily
spent, it would rise again.
"Get him down. We're through with him, for now," Honcho
growled. "Throw that creep back in the cell. And while you're
at it, clean up around here." He was still bare chested, but had
stuffed his well serviced rod back down his pants leg. The
tell-tale bulge left little doubt that it was a repeater.
Although soft, it still had an inviting outline, showing off all
its best features immodestly displayed under the strained twill
cloth.
Hank turned towards me with a hang dog look. His eyes
would not meet mine as he approached to remove the cuffs from my
wrists. His lean, well defined chest rubbed up against mine as
he reached for one of the bracelets to release it. I could feel
his long cock, weighted by its well formed head, hanging lazily
between his legs as it thumped against my thigh. As he fumbled
with the keys, his eyes met mine. There was a pleading there
that was beyond a desire for any physical release.
"Why do you let him bully you, Hank?" I whispered.
"You don't need that crap!" He smiled slightly, dropped his eyes
from mine. Still fumbling for the right key, I felt his manhood
press more firmly against my leg. "You sure as hell can do
better than this," I added under my breath.
"What the hell's taking you so long there? Get to it,
Hank. Get your faggot friend back in there." He turned, started
towards the door. "I'm going to take a piss." Hank turned and
watched him go. He continued to stare towards the door long
after the screen had slammed shut.
Quietly, I repeated, "You don't need this. You gotta
get out of here worse than I do, Hank," I added.
"Ain't got nowhere to go," he said as he turned back
towards me. He reached up with the keys to release the other
arm. With my free hand I gently grabbed his cock, stroking it
gently.
"You'd have no problem. You'd do fine.!" I slid my
hand the full length of the still oiled shaft, gently fingering
the slit at the end. "No, you'd have no trouble at all."
"Gee, I dunno. Can't. Gotta stay here," he said as he
released the other arm. I rubbed my hands and wrists. It felt
good to have them free. Placing my hands on Hank's shoulders I
looked him squarely in the eyes. I was going to take a chance.
"Hank, look at me." I shook him. "Look at me!" His
eyes slowly met mine. "I'll help you. I'll help you get away."
His eyes widened. I wasn't sure if it was fear or anticipation.
It was neither.
"How?" he asked. "He's got you here. And he's got me
right under his thumb. What can you do?" The resignation with
which he said it -- I was afraid the conversation was through.
"Where's my bike?" He looked up.
"Oh that's OK. When I went out earlier I told Jake to
pick it up. I heard him pull up with it a while back, so its
outside," he said.
"It rides two," I pointed out. "We can double pack and
split. There's nothing holding you here."
"What're we going to do with him?" as he nodded towards
the door.
That was no problem. After all, what did they do with
me -- and now the tables were turned! The door burst open.
Honcho strode in, stopped. "What's going on here. How come you
ain't got him back in there yet?" That was all he said. Hank
planted a haymaker to his middle and an uppercut to the jaw that
would have gotten at least a bronze at the Olympics! Honcho
folded.
Hank stood there looking down at his mentor. "Want to
have some fun?" I asked. Surprised, he looked back up at me.
Let's give him some of his own medicine before we split." I took
one of the cuffs from Hank, snapped it around Honcho's right
wrist. Hank followed my lead. There was an overhead water pipe
at just the right height. Boosting the dazed Honcho, we were
able to snap the cuffs over it before he fully regained his
senses. His feet just touched the floor. Some rope coiled in
the corner resolved that problem. We tied each ankle as far
apart as possible to joists on opposite walls.
Honcho began bellowing. I was afraid the noise might
bring help, but Hank was right on the ball. He opened the desk
drawer and pulled out a role of adhesive tape. That properly
applied quieted things down quite a bit. He was a lot more meek
than before. Now his eyes bulged more than his cock! "You know,
Hank, I don't really think he got his rocks off the last time, do
you?" Hank shook his head and grinned. He was beginning to shed
his subservience; the "slave" was changing stripes!
I unbuckled Honcho's belt; pulled it clean out of its
loops. It thudded on the floor. One quick yank at the front of
his pants did the rest. Pubic hair sprung out in little curls,
but his rod remained firmly trapped in the pants leg. Hank
laughed. From his pants hanging over the nearby chair he pulled
a small pocket knife. Grinning from ear to ear, he slowly opened
it and ran a thumb over the razor sharp blade. Cautiously, I
watched as he approached the immobilized figure. "No, Hank," I
said, stepping towards him. I feared the worst.
He looked back at me and laughed, "We can't service the
son-of-a-bitch with them pants on, now can we?" With that he
slipped the blade between Honcho's flesh and the skin tight
pants. In one clean motion the left leg was free; another swipe
and the pants fell away. Honcho's balls and cock swung like a
large pendulum. Hank snapped the knife shut, replaced it in the
pocket from which he had drawn it. He was enjoying the
situation. His cock was rising slowly. Taking the oil
container, he poured it over Honcho's head. With his hand he
smoothed over the taut muscled back as it strained to get free.
On down the back glided the hands, lubricating the ass. And then
the hole itself. First one finger, then two. The pendulum now
swung higher. Honcho seemed to be torn between wanting to get
free and wanting to enjoy this new experience.
Noticing the ruler still lying on the desk, I could not
resist the impish temptation. "Turn about is fair play," I
laughed, picking up the ruler. As I approached Honcho, Hank had
removed his fingers from the cleft of Honcho's ass and was now
rubbing the oil on his pecs, squeezing the nipples. Hank's fully
extended cock was teasing the crack between the two cheeks as he
slid his body up and down the well lubricated captive. I reached
down, took the pendulum, measured it. "We can do better than
that," I said as I bounced the head of Honcho's swinging tool
gently on the flat edge of the ruler, like a spatula. The
swollen knob kept bouncing upwards with each slap of the ruler.
"Let's see, has it grown any?" No longer dangling downwards, the
robust monster was starting to show some life. "Nope, that's
less than before. You've got to try!" It jerked upwards, almost
as if he were.
"Maybe this will help." Hank had handed me a cock ring.
"Ringer!" as I flipped it over the knob on the end and
slid to the base of his cock. Gently, I forced the ball sac
through. The balls throbbed. The shaft quivered.
When getting the ruler, I remembered seeing some clothes
pins in the partially open desk drawer. Two of them applied to
the nipples might encourage him to get it up, I thought. The
plastic clips grasped the nipple, closed on it, holding it
firmly. The other one kept slipping off. Too much oil, I guess,
as I wiped some of it off with my dry palm. This time the clip
held. I wasn't sure which I was supposed to believe -- the look
on Honcho's face (wide eyed disbelief) or the evidence between
his legs (it was standing straight up, swollen and red).
Hank had picked up the belt lying on the floor, flicked
Honcho's ass with it. The response was instantaneous. Cheek
muscles tightened creating large dimples. Each slap produced the
same reaction. The already upright tool slapped crazily against
the rippled stomach. Honcho groaned -- was it in pleasure or
pain? Will we ever know?
Hank was slowly penetrating the spanked ass, his hands
placed firmly on Honcho's groin, pulling him onto the anxious
implement. He nodded for me to do the same to him. First I
knelt behind Hank, tonguing the long crack and slowly spreading
the cheeks. Reaching deeper, I found his butt hole, reamed it
with my probing tongue. Reaching between his legs, I fondled his
balls in their oil soaked sac. He was in -- I could feel a
second pouch slapping against my hand. The cock ring was still
holding it in place.
Rising slowly, my swollen prick glided between their
legs, the end rubbing their balls. Hank gripped it between his
legs holding it tightly. "Why don't you put that thing where
it'll do the most good?" he said over his shoulder. I quickly
inserted it just inside the hole I had so recently reamed. I
wanted to tease him, however, and very slowly continued. Each
movement inwards caused my cock to jump with joy. Hank's
reaction was obvious pleasure.
With his hand circling the ringed cock, Hank thrust hard
against Honcho's tight ass, fucking him for all he was worth.
The motion was so strenuous, Hank flew up and down the length of
my own shaft. I placed my arms around him, played with the two
taut nipples on his chest. "Oh God!" Hank cried out as he
thrust himself forward and held motionless except for the
convulsive action as he shot load upon load. Hank's ass
tightened around my elongated rod, wringing flood after flood of
warm, sticky juice from it until I fell exhausted on his back.
My spent tool slipped from Hank's grip. I stepped back.
"Plop!" Hank's cock came free. Walking around in front of
Honcho, I noticed his shaft was still upright, a small drop of
white just running down its head. I pointed at it. Hank
laughed, "He's good at taking care of that, himself. Besides, he
told me to clean this place up!" With that he began wielding his
dangling manhood like a fire hose. Pointing it at Honcho, he let
loose with a long, golden stream. It splashed off of Honcho's
chest, running down those well formed pecs with their nipples
still captive. I reached over to remove the clips. But Hank
shook his head. "Let him enjoy himself. Help me." With this he
directed the stream at the base of the still upright cock.
Taking careful aim at the crack between the cheeks where Hank had
found so much pleasure, I sent a second stream of warm, yellow
liquid cascading over is ass. It felt good. Just the relief of
taking a piss felt good.
The golden shower completed, we left Honcho where he was
to dry out. Hank pulled on his trousers over his oil soaked
legs. "We'll clean up somewhere's else. My bible reading sister
may show up -- she brings us lunch sometimes. And there'd be all
hell to pay, with her preaching and all." I grabbed my pants and
we made a bee line for the door. Before opening it, I grabbed
Hank, felt that loving piece of meat harden between his legs as I
wrapped my hand around it. He bit my ear lope as we clenched.
Fortunately, the bike was just outside; the key still in
the ignition. Balls flying, I swung my bare ass over the saddle.
It started. Hank slipped in behind me and we were off leaving
dust flying back through the still open door. Hank wrapped his
arms around me hanging on as we sped down the highway. His hand
gradually slipped down to my open crotch and took my balls and
cock in his hand. "Can't let them get cold," he shouted in my
ear. With one hand, I reached behind me, unzipped his fly, and
pulled out (to my surprise) a very stiff pecker. Giving it the
right angle with my hand, I slowly pushed back on the saddle. It
slipped inside. The full length reached up, vibrating from the
engine and the road. I could feel the head thickening as it
swelled. His hands now held a stiff and excited shaft. His
fingers wrapped tightly around it moved with the bike.
I don't know how many miles we must have gone before we
had to stop to clean the windshield. There were many such stops,
many such "hard" miles before we reached L.A.
|
|
