tagLesbian SexI Love Her Motorcycle

I Love Her Motorcycle

byClosetbuster©

It's a custom rigid 1970's Harley Davidson. She found it out in the Midwest somewhere, in the middle of a corn field. Literally. It was love at first sight! Oh no, not for me. I've seen the pictures and trust me, it was a rusted heap of junk. The engine was froze, tires cracked and dry-rotted, and I think a family of field mice had made a rather nice home in the air intake. I have no friggin' idea how she even knew of it. Probably some damn online auction or underground swap magazine. Hell, she had to drive clear out west just to see it: and STILL brought it back home!

Over the next several years, she spent all her spare time (and money) customizing this pile of scrap into one mighty sweet machine. Of course, it helps that she runs her own garage. Every spare moment possible, she rolled that bad boy in, raking it, welding on a hard tail, adding a springier front end, custom exhaust, lights, seat: you name it, she did it. Fair to say she had no girlfriend at that time- none would've put up with it, for sure! Who, me? Oh, no way in hell! All this, she had done way before I met her. She used to spend hours during our first dates showing me all the work she put into it. If we had been together when she got it, I tell you I would've been outta there. No way I'd been able to deal with taking a back seat to that heap!

The night we first met, I was out with my best girlfriends. And yes, I mean friends. We were hanging outside our favorite club, having a smoke before venturing in. That's when fate struck. I could hear her coming from several blocks away. As luck would have it, the traffic light at the intersection in front of the club turned, and she was forced to stop.

The rumble of that bike caused a purely visceral reaction in me. I struggled to take it all in before the light released her. Head to toe in black leather. The matching helmet and tank glistened in the street light. Burnt Orange. There was no chrome on her bike. The engine was flat black. Even the exhaust had tape instead of chrome. Retro styled goggles covered her eyes. I must've gasped. Did she hear? How could she? She turned and looked right at me. Peered right into my soul. I couldn't tear my eyes away.

The light turned green. With the slightest head nod, she put her bike in gear and rumbled forward. As I watched, a hole began to open inside me. This mysterious person had touched me like no other. How could that be? How would I be able to find this person again? Then, my heart stopped. I watched her take a turn, doubling back to the parking lot where I stood. I almost squealed and jumped up and down. Well, maybe I did. My girlfriends were oblivious. They stubbed out their cigarettes, ready to enter the club. Mine had been left alone to burn down to the filter, long forgotten. I couldn't move.

My friends pulled on my arms to no avail. I was frozen, as this dark knight paused directly in front of me. No smile. Just two throaty rumbles from the bike, and a quick tilt of her head. I didn't even think. I walked as quickly as my stilettos would allow and climbed aboard. Two more revs of the engine, and we were off. Just like that, I had ditched my best friends for this dark unknown stranger. Without so much as a word between us, we took off into the night!

I guess I've always had a weakness for the "bad boy" type. There is just something about the smell of all that leather; the way it creaks and rubs. I love wrapping my arms around her leather-clad torso and pushing my breasts into her back. The bike rumbling between my legs is the best foreplay I've ever had. When we hit the open road, she stretches her legs out on the highway pegs, and I lay my legs across her thighs. She loves that. A few miles of this, and we usually have to stop.

The first night? Holy shit, did we stop! She drove out of the city straight away. I couldn't help myself, I snuck my hands under her jacket, down her pants... everywhere! It was pretty late (or early, depending on your preference) by the time she pulled into a scenic roadside park. Just us and a view of the valley. She laid me out on a picnic table and fucked me. No introduction needed. Just pushed me down, ripped off my panties and right to it! We've been together ever since.

Now that winter is here, our rides are confined to the indoors. Oh, yes, still on the bike. She wheels it right in and parks it in her efficiency apartment. At first, I was a bit put out that it was there. Perhaps even jealous, that bike gets to stay and I haven't been asked to move in. But I got over it in a hurry.

The first time I'd seen it in her apartment, I was absolutely stunned. Unfortunately, I am rarely speechless. The words were out of my damn mouth before I could stop myself. "Sometimes I think you love that Goddamn thing more than me." I regarded her motorcycle with green eyes. Always spit-shined and tuned to perfection. Sitting right across from the couch. I suspect that was so she could admire it from her favorite resting spot.

"Truth hurts."

Her reply, so concise and accurate. Never a wasted word with her. She plopped back down on the couch with a fresh beer.

That was Christmas Eve. I had come over for dinner and a romantic evening with her. Of course, I had to bring dinner over with me. I could've had her over to my place, but I have roommates who, quite frankly, just don't understand what I see in her, and they are quite vocal in their opinions about her. It is much easier to prepare a meal and reheat it there. Plus, I had an extra special gift for her that night.

After dinner, I shut off the lights and lit some candles. There was no tree, so we put our gifts in front of her TV. After getting some soft music playing, I retrieved her gift and settled next to her on the couch, tucking my legs under me. I was on my second glass of wine. Red. She had nearly finished her six-pack. She opened the box and held out a skimpy teddy. Leather. Naturally, it was for me to wear. Slowly, I rose and gave her my best candle lit dance. Off came my skirt, blouse, bra and hose. No, I didn't wear panties that night. Truth be told, I had learned to leave them at home when I came over to visit! My heels got to stay. Those, she liked on. The lingerie was not much more than a "v" shaped piece of leather with snaps in the necessary places. Very sexy.

She said nothing, just took a slug of her beer. That was my indication to continue. I sauntered over to her on the couch and raked my body down hers, then came back up for a kiss. Her fierce passion betrayed that cool exterior. She shoved her tongue in my mouth. I sucked it. Her fingers snarled in my hair, pulling me into her. I unzipped her fly and released her dick. It sprung out from her underwear. Always ready for me. She made a guttural moan and hastily pushed my head down. My, my, baby was in a hurry now!

I worked her cock with my tongue and lips. Swirling and sucking. Before long, I could take it's entire length down my throat. She loves that. Low moans escaped her throat as she watched me engulf her. I lightly stroked the insides of her thighs and crotch through her jeans as my mouth continued it's onslaught. Then I pushed my hand between her and the couch. I cupped the middle of her ass, as much as I could palm, and squeezed her, quite literally. My thumb pressed through her jeans against her perineum. This never failed to send her over the edge. Her hips were bucking off the couch, slamming her dick into my face while she came. She can be so easy to please!

After kissing, her I stood. I moved back to the motorcycle slowly. It stood lengthwise, out from the wall about a foot. Suggestively leaning against the seat, I positioned my left leg up on the driver footpeg. Now we shall see whom she likes best! I sucked my right index finger into my mouth, then slowly brought it to my crotch. Two snaps, and I was exposed. She had gotten out some lube and started working it up and down her shaft as she watched from the couch. My engorged clit protruded from my thick red labia. I circled and flicked it. I plunged a finger into my dripping pussy. She came up off the couch before I could breathe. Kissing me, feeling me with animal lust. She dropped to her knees before me and worshiped my clit with her tongue. I swung my leg over her shoulder, imprisoning her to the task of my pleasure. My heal dug into the flesh of her back while she pounded four fingers into my pussy. It didn't take long before my climax thundered through me. It never did.

She got up. A gentle push guided me away. She swung her leg over her motorcycle. Kickstand up. Key turned. Clutch in. A look in my direction finally. The devil was in her eyes. She stood on the kicker, and the engine roared to life. After a couple of twists on the throttle, she wheeled it to the middle of the room. The sound was deafening. Her hand was out, and beckoned me aboard.

I slipped on. Not in my usual spot, but in front, practically on the gas tank. Her dildo squeezed between us and bounced against my belly. We kissed. She revved the engine again, then turned it off. We were slower, more sensual in our lovemaking, without the urgency of before. I am pushed back onto the tank, while her hands explored her new gift. She pulled my breasts from their cover so that she could enjoy them, push them together in an attempt to devour them at once. She sucked my nipples into her mouth and flicked my piercings with her tongue. She entered me and our hips met together in a slow, easy pace. Her hands grabbed my knees and pushed them to my chest. As her pace increased, she began to sweat and grunt with renewed hunger. God, it was so good, but it was getting hard to balance.

Pushing her off me, I got up from the bike. I was ready for more, to feel her thrusting deep inside of me. I remounted the bike, again in front, but facing forward over the tank. I griped the handlebars, placed my feet on the pegs, and offered myself to her. She was ready. She entered me, hands on my hips. Her thrusts were powerful. My pussy, beyond wet, was greedily slurping in every inch of her. I could hear the juicy slapping of her belly as it hit my ass. The motorcycle was rocking wildly. She was pummeling my G-spot with her dick and it didn't take long for me to cum again. My pussy squirted viscous juice out around her shaft while she continued pumping. With a final growl, she slammed into me, knocking me off balance and pinning my body against the tank. She pushed her dick unmercifully deeper while her strong arms held me down, as if splitting me apart.

When she had caught her breathe, she sat back, letting her cock pop out of my used pussy. The lap of her jeans was soaked, along with the bike's seat and tank. I think some globs of my cum were running down the side of the engine. I wondered how well my baby liked me now!

I realize it's beauty now. It's potential. Oh, no, I am not jealous of that motorcycle anymore. That bike gets parked smack dab in the middle of her apartment all winter long (and a few nights in the summer too)! That bike and I have a special bond now. I love to sit on the couch and watch as my baby toils over it for hours, polishing and buffing. It makes me smile to myself. I know that soon, I will be getting that motorcycle messed-up again!

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