Bikies

We'd been driving most of the day and were still hours away from our destination. Right now we travelling along a lonely highway the last town fifty miles behind us and the next one at least fifty in front of us. We had trees in front of us, trees behind us, trees to the left, and more blasted trees to the right. Coming over the crest of a hill the road was a long thin ribbon running dead straight to the horizon and beyond. As far as I could tell we were also the only car on that road.

"There's a truckies break area up ahead," I told Scott. "Why don't you pull in and we'll have some coffee and stretch our legs."

"I'm good," Scott said.

"You won't be if you don't pull in," I calmly advised him, "because if you don't I'm likely to pee my pants."

Taking the hint Scott pulled into the rest area and I promptly used the facilities there. Coming out I found Scott walking around, getting the kinks out. I promptly joined him.

"Want to take a short walk in the forest?" Scott asked. "There's a trail over there. We could wander down and see what we can find."

"Probably lions and tigers and bears," I told him. "I'm staying here."

"Oh, come on. Get real. We don't have any lions or tigers or bears."

"Only because the crocodiles have eaten them all. That track undoubtedly leads to a nice river just loaded with the beasts. Even if there aren't any crocodiles then we'll meet giant iguanas, poisonous monitor lizards, and snakes of all sorts, each one more venomous that the others."

"So that's a no?"

"That's a no. I will have some coffee, though. Want some?"

It was iced coffee, but with the current heat iced coffee was what was called for. I poured a couple of cups and we relaxed a little, enjoying the break.

It was overly hot now that we weren't in the air conditioned car. I was starting to perspire lightly. I undid an extra button at the top of my blouse, exposing a little more cleavage than I normally do, and rested the cold cup against my chest. Quite a lot of cleavage, actually, as I wasn't wearing a bra. Scott wiggled his eyebrows, giving me a lascivious look. I just smiled and ignored him.

We were about ready to resume our journey when we heard the thunder of engines and two motor cycles pulled into the stop. They were beautiful bikes, big and black and powerful. The riders dismounted almost in unison, taking off their helmets and placing them on the saddles. I quite liked those helmets. One was painted as Hulk while the other was a tiger's head.

The two men walked past us towards the facilities, looking me over as they passed and making sounds of appreciation in a rather crude manner. I pointedly ignored them while Scott fumed. My husband is rather short-tempered and jealous where I'm concerned, even though I've never given him cause for jealousy.

"Button up," he snapped at me. "How dare they speak to you like that?"

"Relax," I told him. "They didn't exactly speak to me. Just made pointed comments to each other, loud enough for me to over-hear. In their own way they were just being flattering."

"Yeah, but if they say anything else I'll be flattening them," snapped Scott, looking belligerently towards the amenities block.

Scott was quite proud of his prowess as a martial artist. He practiced regularly and told me about several awards he'd won, not that I ever went to watch his fights. I'm not a fighting enthusiast.

"Yes, well we were about to move on anyway, so let's go," I said peacefully.

"What? Let them think they've driven us away? We'll wait until they leave."

Scott had the pig-headed note in his voice that meant he wasn't changing his mind any time soon. If I had time I could talk him out of it but not in a couple of minutes. I threw my hands into the air and made sure that our stuff was packed and any rubbish was in the bin provided.

The men came strolling out of the facilities a couple of moments later. They glanced towards me and one of them gave me an evil smile. OK. He smiled. I just interpreted it as an evil smile.

"What's with the buttons, gorgeous?" he asked. "Undo them again and give a couple of lonely men a treat."

I smiled and shook my head and Scott erupted.

"Alright, that's enough. Get on your bikes and get out of here."

They both turned to look at him, both of them now smiling. I guess I could understand that. Even though Scott was fairly big both of these characters were bigger and heavier than him. They probably thought him challenging them was hilarious.

"And if we don't?" asked the man who'd queried my buttons.

"Then I'll dump you on your bikes, bruised and bleeding," said Scott, sounding extremely confident.

"Woah. We have a fighter on our hands. Do you want to fight, Mike?"

"Not particularly, Frank. You?"

"I'm with you in this matter. See how he stands. He's probably one of those martial arts experts. He might just kick our butts."

"No might about it," snapped Scott. "A couple of scumbags like you wouldn't stand a chance."

"Scumbags? Fair go, mate. We're a couple of respectable citizens. No harm in us admiring a pretty young thing, even if she is wearing too many clothes. I'll bet she's sensational in the nude."

For a moment I thought Scott was going to attack them. He took a big breath and glared at them.

"Just go," he practically hissed at them.

"Ok. Ok. Go easy, mate. No offence intended. We're leaving. I can see you're a born scrapper so we won't put you to the trouble of proving it. Shake."

He grinned and held out his hand and before I could yell out to him stupid, stupid, Scott actually went to shake hands with him.

As soon as Frank's hand closed over Scott's he jerked him forward, his knee coming up smartly at the same time, connecting squarely with Scott's testicles. Mike and I both winced in sympathy (and outrage where I was concerned) and Scott went this odd shade of pale and sank to the ground, clutching his gonads in a death grip.

Frank and Mike both picked up Scott and carried him over to the car and tossed him in. Frank turned to me, holding up Scott's keys.

"Is your car a single lock or a double lock," he asked me.

I just looked at him blankly.

"Ah, the locks are on the doors. You just press the button on the key too lock them."

"I know," he said dryly, "but do you press the button once or twice?"

I shrugged. "I press it once," I admitted, "but Scott presses it twice. He says it give extra security which is silly. Locked is locked."

"There is a small difference. Pressing the button once locks the door. Pressing it twice double locks it. A double locked car can only be opened with the key, even if you're inside the car. The internal openers won't work."

I didn't know why that mattered but then Frank showed me the reason. He pressed the button twice and I heard the clunk of the lock followed by a second smaller clunk, presumable the second lock whatever it was.

"I'm afraid your boyfriend is now stuck in the car until we give you the key to let him out," Frank said smiling.

"Husband," I snapped. "Give me the damned key and I'll unlock the doors as soon as you're on your bikes. He's going to be fighting mad when he recovers. That was a dirty blow."

"It was, but effective though. He was being excessively rude. We were just passing a few compliments and he could have just ignored us and we'd have gone on our way. As it is he threatened us and called us scumbags."

"You goaded him," I pointed out. "You know you did."

"Only after he started it," Frank defended. "Anyway, I assume that he told you to fasten up your buttons. He seems the kind of asshole who would insist on that sort of thing."

I refrained from commenting.

"Now that he's out of the way I'm sure you want to get more comfortable. Feel free to undo those buttons again."

"Not going to happen," I said with a laugh "Keys, please."

I'd been talking to Frank and watching him, ignoring Mike. I'd seen him wander towards their bikes and forgotten about him, assuming that he was getting ready to depart. Turned out I should have been watching both of them. He just reached around from behind me, his hands closing over my elbows and holding my arms against my sides.

Now Frank was laughing as he strolled closer to me. As soon as he was within reach he started on my buttons. He undid the first two and then stepped back.

"That's where you were when we first arrived," he said. "However, I feel that we deserve a small reward for our troubles."

With that he casually undid the rest of the buttons, upon which Mike pulled the blouse off my shoulders and down my arms, tossing it over onto the car. The two men then took an arm each, holding them away from me while they looked me over.

"Very nice," said Frank. "Don't you agree?"

"Too right. A nice size and shape and no sag. They stand right out, pointing at a man."

"Do you think the rest of her measures up to her breasts?"

"Bound to, Frank, but there's only one way to find out."

I was all, "Hey, what? Don't you dare", finding that they casually ignored my protests and started taking my slack off.

Comfortable things to wear, slacks, especially when driving long distances, but not exactly hard to take off. Once again Mike held me while Frank calmly unbuttoned and unzipped and pulled them down, taking my panties with then to my chagrin.

It didn't take them long and I was naked, bar a pair of sneakers. Good for walking around but not much use in covering me. They let go of me and my hands immediately snapped to covering positions.

"No," said Frank, speaking very firmly. "You will keep your hands by your sides. I'd hate to have to smack your bottom for disobedience."

I suspected that I'd hate it too so I let my hands dangle at my sides while the two men looked me over, walking around me and making some very personal remarks. It was totally embarrassing, even if all the remarks seemed to be in approval.

The two men marched me over to stand in front of our car. Scott and recovered and his face was plastered against the front windscreen. His face was almost purple with rage and he was trying to claw his way through the glass, screaming in fury.

Mike stood to one side and Frank stood next to me. He was looking at Scott and laughing, laughing even more when he had the audacity to close a hand over a breast and then draw it down my body until he poked me in a very personal way. I screamed and hauled off to slap his head right off his shoulders but he ducked, pushing me forward until I was bending forward over the car.

He held me like that quite easily, deriding my struggles.

"Forget it. You're not going anywhere until I say so. I also have a little bit of bad news for you. I'm going to touch you up a little while your precious Scott watches. I want to see if he has a stroke."

With that his hand closed over my vulva and he started rubbing it. There was nothing tentative about his touch, he went right to work as though he had every right to touch me there. I tried to squirm about but that hand on my back just held me firm. Basically all I could do was let it happen.

He touched and played, fingers busy exploring, leaving me to squirm and fume. Oh, god, he just kept on touching me, seeming to know all the right spots to get a reaction out of my reluctant body. (To be really accurate, I was reluctant, not my body. It seemed quite happy to accept these attentions.)

"Oh, come on," I finally protested. "Isn't that enough. It isn't as if Scott is even looking anymore."

He had slumped back in the driver's seat, glaring through the windscreen at us.

"I guess you're right. That does seem about enough."

I relaxed, waiting for him to release me. How gullible and naïve of me. His fingers spread my lips and his cock started pressing into me, sliding quite easily down my passage, a passage that was now well lubricated.

"What the fuck?" I yelled, only to hear him laughing again.

"Surely you didn't think I'd be content with just touching you?" he asked, his hands now sliding around me to close over my breasts.

With that he started to fuck me, very gently. He was just sliding in and out as smooth as you like, his hands rubbing my breasts to the same cadence. Scott, on the other hand, had caught on to what was going on and was going berserk. Not that it helped him at all. He wasn't going anywhere. He even tried to karate chop the windscreen, or something like that, an action that the windscreen calmly ignored.

I was quite naturally moving in unison with Frank. Apart from the fact that I was being raped it was lovely, a gentle vibration as his cock rasped against me, those vibrations sinking deeply into me, bringing all my nerves to expectant life. I could hear myself moaning softly as he ploughed into me, almost purring in my delight.

He went on and on, my bottom bobbing up and down as he moved, my breasts swollen and sensitive to his touch. When he finally decided that his time was up I was more than ready for it. His speed increased, his thrusting cock starting to crash into me, and my response was to lift my bottom higher and push harder, willingly taking all he could give me. Then he erupted inside me and I climaxed, biting my hand so as not to scream.

Now that the assault was over I relaxed. I started to move away from the car, intending to get my clothes on now that they weren't holding me. Did I say gullible and naïve? I'd barely taken a step away from the car when Mike's hand closed over my elbow.

"This way," he said, towing me around to the side of the car and bending me backwards over it. His trousers were already half down and he had an erection, and quite a sizeable one at that.

"Oh, no," I yelled at him. "Once was more than enough. Not going to happen."

"Really? That's interesting. Ah, how do you propose to stop me?"

I just looked blank. If he wanted to I couldn't stop him, not really.

"Um, appeal to your better nature?" I asked hopefully.

Once he stopped laughing he shook his head.

"Right now that asshole is telling himself that Frank didn't really make love to you but just pretended, because he couldn't see the real action taking place. Where I'm concerned he's going to have a far better view of the action, being able to watch as my cock sinks into you. As a bonus, you also get to watch. Isn't this fun?"

With that he moved in on me and I had the rare delight of watching a stranger stick his cock in me, knowing that at the same time Scott would be watching it happen, almost crapping himself in his fury. Not my fault and nothing I could do but watch as Mike sank balls deep with his first thrust.

It's amazing how different men seem to have different styles. I mean, all they have to do is stick it in, wiggle it about, and then withdraw, but no, they all seemed to have their own style. Frank had been silk and honey, a sweet loving that tingled me right down to my toes, whether I wanted it to or not. Mike was all get up and go, humping away with a lot of enthusiasm and absolutely zero finesse.

He banged away, going hard and fast, and I was humping my hips most energetically, trying to stay with him. His hands were on my breasts, playing with them. Where Frank had been smooth Mike was rough. There was nothing I could actually point to and say this is what makes it rough, but rough it certainly was. Not that I was complaining because first, no-one would have listened, and second, I was finding it exciting, especially after Frank's efforts.

Quite frankly after that little work-out with Frank I expected to climax again very quickly. On top of that Mike was going so hot and hard that I expected him to finish off even quicker. Was I ever calling them wrong today?

Yes, Mike took me that point where I was expecting a climax, but them he held me there. For someone who was apparently showing no finesse and just going at it hot and heavy he still managed to keep me hovering on the edge. On top of that this was rape so I couldn't even ask him to stop stuffing around and finish it. I wanted to kill him.

The whole thing was sweet torture and I was ready to scream as time passed with what seemed incredible slowness. When Mike winked at me and told me to get ready I almost screamed with joy. Then he must have pulled out all stops and I simply lost it, my climax seeming to run on and on.

Mike pulled away and I remained where I was, feeling too lethargic to move. Frank already had his helmet on and was sitting on his bike. Mike joined him and was in the saddle when I suddenly remembered the keys.

"Hey. I want the car keys, you rotten swine," I yelled and Frank laughed and tossed them to me. I promptly pressed the button and Scott almost exploded out of the car, charging towards the two bikes. They moved off, going at about the same speed as Scott, near enough to tempt him but far enough away that he couldn't catch them. He was swearing and threatening them something horrific.

I grabbed my clothes and vanished into the amenities where I cleaned up and got dressed. When I came out I could hear Scott's voice in the distance, and I mean distance. They'd led him on for about half a mile, and then just accelerated away, leaving him behind.

When he finally returned to the car I started on him before he could start on me.

"Did you get their number plates?" I asked, knowing that he wouldn't have.

"Ah, no, I couldn't get close enough. Doesn't matter, we have a description of the bikes."

"Well, all I can say was that they were two big black bikes. I have no idea of the make or the size. Did you manage to get that?"

When he just looked blank I wailed a protest.

"How am I supposed to report this to the police when we don't have any information at all? They'll just be all sympathetic and ask for details again and again, probably imaging themselves as the offenders. It'll be so humiliating."

"We'll just tell the police to be on the watch for two men on bikes. They can't be that hard to find."

That was the point that we heard the thunder of motors again and we turned to look at the road, waiting to see what was happening. And waited some more. It took several minutes with the roar of motors increasing all the time, before a pack of bikes tore past. Dozens of them.

We didn't say anything, just getting in the car and driving on. No way would Scott suggest going to the police which suited me just fine. I was going to play the injured woman for a while. Scott wouldn't expect sex from me and would be sure to buy me a few little luxuries while I recovered. Life can be good.