Ecstasy on a Motorcycle

Photo by Harley-Davidson

I saw Marty standing near the motorcycle dressed in jeans, boots, and leather jacket, and felt a rush of heat. His black hair and beard, with just a touch of grey, seemed to complement the sleekness of the black tank and chrome pipes — a sexy image that would invade my dreams for the next two weeks.

It was late summer. Marty, and his older brother Carl, had packed their bikes with camping gear and provisions ready to head out on their adventure ride from Denver to Florida. Carl’s wife, Alice, and I would fly to meet them in Orlando in two weeks, to ride with them to Key West, camping along the way.

This was goodbye until then, it was a hard one. I was not only fearful for their safety, but I would miss the hell out of this man whom I had grown to love deeply. He made me very happy in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Especially in bed, or in the back of his van, or on a log while camping, wherever the desire hit. Our sex life was spectacular and two weeks of abstinence would be tough. But I sucked it up and wished them safe travels. Marty promised to contact me when possible. Those were the days without cell phone coverage.

Then, they were off.

True to his word, he called when he could find a payphone, which was not often, telling me that they were safe, a little about their trip and how much he missed me. When he told me that he had to jerk off each night just thinking about me, that made me squirm, and rub myself between my legs.

Just to get back at him for what he was doing, I began describing going to bed in my satin shorty nightgown with no underwear, thinking about him. Pretending my massive vibrator was his cock I’d produce body-jerking orgasms.

I put my hand in my panties as we were talking so that I could rub my crotch while I described my nightly orgasms, to him. I could tell my descriptions were having the desired effect, from the heavy breathing I could hear on the other end of the phone.

“Thank God this is a private phone booth,” he panted, “because you are driving me wild.”

Then I heard the groan and his moan of release, and I gasped and jerked from my own explosion.

We shared a brief moment of heavy breathing before I could ask, “Did you just cum at the payphone?” He muttered an affirmative.

“You are terrible to be doing this to me!”

Time spent away from Marty ticked by at a snail’s pace, and I couldn’t seem to speed it up with work, but the nights were the worst. Taking care of my sexual needs with my vibrator only worked if I envisioned Marty and his magical body parts, but it was not as satisfying as the real thing. I fantasized about getting my hands and mouth on his cock. While massaging his balls I’d bring them to a state where he had to have me as much as I had to have him. remembering our phone conversations, I didn’t think that would be a tough task, though.

When the day finally came for Alice and me to get on the plane to meet our absent men, I was antsy, excited, nervous, and horny as hell by the time we landed.

When I ran to his arms our kisses were forceful and eager. He held me so tight I felt the bulge in his pants, which made me happy as I was equally eager to get naked and fuck.

The guys had reserved a motel for the night, instead of going to a campground saying they preferred a more comfortable bed. I suspected it was the privacy aspect that was the real motivator, and I was glad about that.

Planning to reconvene in an hour to go eat, we burst into our room. Instead of shyly unbuttoning and easing into getting naked, we stripped off our clothes as if they were Velcro. I could hardly contain my eagerness to wrap myself around his naked body, which was phenomenal. He’d showered and shaved before coming to the airport, I appreciated the gesture, but I loved his normal, male smell over a bar of motel soap. We kissed hard and eagerly with tongues doing what other more important parts would soon be doing. We hit the bed. Marty plunged his cock into my very wet entrance to heaven. Our connection was explosive — And short. It didn’t take long for either of us to get off. But that was okay, I planned to have him for dessert after dinner. Before we went to clean up to meet the others to go eat, we laid facing each other touching, kissing; just appreciating the fact that we were together again. We’d planned to walk to a diner just a block away, not needing to ride someplace farther, which was good.

Photo by LOGAN WEAVER

After dinner, I was really ready for the dessert I’d been craving through our meal, when I would sometimes reach under the table to fondle him and the bump I’d raised into a throbbing lump that really needed attention untethered. We walked into the room, and after hearing the deadbolt latch, before I could turn, Marty came up behind me. He started to nibble at my ear, while reaching around to undo the buttons of my blouse, one by one. He soon slipped his hands into the opening, gently flicking my nipples, before caressing my breasts, making lustful noises as he kneaded and stroked the soft flesh. He was getting hard again, I could feel from his bulge that was poking at my butt from his closeness behind me. I was getting more and more eager to turn around and take out that hard member, but he held me firmly into place.

“Not yet,” he whispered in my ear.

I moved my rear against his eager cock — it seemed ready to burst from the confining seams, while Marty continued unbuttoning my blouse and pulling it off my shoulders.

He’s torturing me with his slowness, I kept thinking, and wanted him to hurry, but I could tell from his guttural groans that he was going through his own torture. He slipped his hand from my breasts, over my stomach, and into my shorts and bikini panties, then beyond the curly thatch of hair. His fingers slid easily into the crevice and began rubbing my clit. My moans could’ve been heard next door, but I didn’t care, nor could I help it. He eased his fingers deeper and pushed one, then two, fingers inside, wiggling those digits while sliding them in and out until I was ready to scream.

I reached around and gripped the bulge in his pants and began massaging. Marty escalated his own groans, especially when I broke free of his embrace, turned around to face him, and dropped to my knees. Jerking down his shorts and underwear, I took Marty’s cock, now standing at attention into my mouth. The hardened smoothness slid easily over my tongue as I took half of the shaft to the entrance of my throat, and back out. My tongue lapped at the edge of the head, just before I rammed it back into my mouth and sucked. The moans I received were a reward for my efforts.

Before he got to the point of near explosion, I pushed him onto the bed and straddled him. I wanted to ride him harder than I would the motorcycle while feeling the motor running and pistons pounding, but all too soon we were at a point of no return. Marty grabbed me around the waist, threw me to his side, and climbed on top. He rammed. Hard. Again and again.

“Oh my God!” I screamed as we both exploded simultaneously, but continued the ride until Marty plopped down on top of me, spent and breathing heavily. We slept.

The next morning, unable to resist a quickie before getting ready, we had to hurry to dress and meet our biking buddies for breakfast. After which, we all packed up, hopped on the motorcycles, and headed down the highway. Marty’s Honda Sabre was as quiet as his brother’s BMW which made conversations easier and riding through quiet neighborhoods less attention-grabbing.

We followed Carl down a road that passed sugarcane fields and palm tree groves out of the city. These and the heat were reminders that we were in Florida. I was excited and glad to find the long stretch of road practically deserted. There were very few cars passing by. Marty’s brother and sister-in-law were barely in view ahead of us, so I took advantage.

I eased down my tube top, lifted Marty’s shirt, and pressed my breasts against his back while resting my hands in his lap. I began rubbing my naked breasts back and forth on flesh and felt his cock react. I reached to rub at the hardening bulge.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” Marty sputtered. I didn’t answer, just kept rubbing. When I began to feel results with the fabric tightly stretched, he stood up on his footpegs

“My pants are too tight,” he complained. I reached his zipper and pulled it down.

“Damn!” Marty groaned, “There’s no place to stop.”

“No need to stop,” I cooed

When he sat back down, I told him, “Just keep your eyes on the road and I’ll do the rest.”

I reached into his open pants, pulled out his heated and hardening member, and slid my hand around it. I began moving it up and down, stroking, it soon hardened into a huge shaft while we sped down the asphalt. I kept wishing my head was in his lap, but, of course, that was impossible at this speed and with my lack of acrobatic skills, so I made my hand movements, faster and faster, in time with his breathing and moans.

Although preoccupied with my mission to get Marty off with the help of the motor’s vibrations, I began experiencing those same sensations down deep into my wet crotch, until I thought the moment was about to arrive for both of us. I began moving my butt over the hot leather seat in sync with my hand movements, until exaltation! Marty’s roars of ecstasy were louder than the engine’s, and together with my yelps, we made some field workers raise their heads as we sped by.

Our climaxes were phenomenal. The bike jerked, swerved, and slowed, but Marty stayed in control. He kept repeating “Oh my God! Oh my God!” until he was spent. Thankfully, the highway was quiet, and we didn’t have to worry about dodging cars. With Marty’s impressive driving abilities, I was thrilled that my capricious antics worked, he got a release, so did I, and we rode it out together, safely.

Marty’s semen had slathered the travel bag on the gas tank, and my hand was sticky and slimy. I knew we could clean up when we stopped, but I eagerly licked the semen from my hand and helped Marty put his pants back in place. I zipped him up and handed him a bottle of water,

“I am on a cloud, and you are the love of my life. You are an amazing man. Thank you for being so adventurous!” He gripped my hand in concurrence and started to speed up.

We slowed when we came to a curve and rounded a grove of trees. We saw Carl and Alice parked and dismounted at a turn-off. But what made me smile was how they seemed to be struggling to get their clothes in shape. Did they see us, or did they just have ideas of their own? I asked myself.

We eased to a stop.

Marty asked, “Everything okay?”

“It sure is,” Carl responded. “And for you two?”

“Everything is perfect,” we said in unison, as Marty looked at me and smiled.