The Bike Messenger

"$900? For a bike?" I turned to the salesman. "My first Schwinn cost $19."

The salesman just rolled his eyes. I guess he had heard that line a million times.

"So, Zeej is out of work until she gets her wheel from you?" I asked.

"Yeah, I guess so."

I reached for my wallet and pulled out a credit card. "I'll take this one. You sure it's the one she rides?"

"Absolutely."

"OK," I said handing the card to him. "Let's get it in my car."

I was pretty proud of myself. The though crossed my mind to stop and get a little bow for the bike, but Zeej was not the bow type. Well, maybe a black bow. Boy, was I going to surprise her.

Cruising her neighborhood I finally found her house and parked in the front. I remembered the stairs and thought that maybe I should being her out to look at it rather than carry it up there alone. No, I thought, I'll surprise her up there.

I pulled the bike out of the back of the Escalade and started around back to the "stairs of death". Grabbing the bike and hoisting it up, I started up slowly so as not to bang it around. No sense delivering a damaged gift. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, I reached the top and found the door open. That was a good sign since it did not occur to me before climbing the stairs with the bike on my back that she might not be home. I peered into the kitchen. It was empty and quiet. I rolled the bike in and stopped when I heard a moan from the next room.

OK, now what? I could walk in there, find Zeej with someone else and look like a fool. Maybe she's alone. Maybe she's watching a movie. I hadn't come all this way to turn around so I moved towards the sound. I peered around the corner.

It wasn't Zeej. Sitting on the couch was young lady, about early 20's, watching the television. She looked completely out of place in Zeej's apartment. Blond, designer jeans, conservative blouse, no extraneous piercings. She was the antithesis of Zeej.

"Who are you," she said startled at my appearance.

"I'm Bill Walters," I replied. "I'm looking for Zeej."

"Why?" She didn't look annoyed but she seemed embarrassed. Maybe it was the movie she was watching. It was showing two women making love to each other, wrapped in a 69 position.

"Interesting," I said as I watched the action on the TV.

"Why do you want to see Zelda Jean," the blond asked again.

" I brought her something," I replied looking back at her. "A bike. She had an accident and needs something to ride. Who are you, may I ask?"

"Diane," she replied.

"I like your taste in TV, Diane," I said looking back at the screen. I watched the action on the TV and felt my cock hardening. "You get off watching this stuff?"

Her eyes were fixed on the TV and she either couldn't or didn't want to respond. I walked over to the couch and sat next to her.

"Do you like that?" I asked again. "Do you like watching two women eat each others' cunts?"

"You guys are all the same. Vulgar," she said turning to me. "'Pussy' is so much nicer." She turned back to the TV and stared. I wasn't sure whether she meant that she liked pussy over cock or that she preferred one word over the other.

"My apologies," I said assuming she meant the later and accepting the correction as graciously as I could.

She nodded. No words, just a fixation on what was unraveling in front of her.

I don't know what came over me, other than male pattern lust, but I reached out and ran my hand along her leg. She looked down, acknowledging that I was touching her, but did not move to stop me. I continued moving my hand along her leg as she watched the two women on the screen probe each other with their tongues and fingers.

Diane continued to watch as I moved my hand further up her leg getting closer to the top and wondering whether I should go further. Who was this girl? Why was she waiting for Zeej and where was she? I was ready to rein in the horses when she reached out, took my hand in hers and planted it squarely between her legs. I pushed gently and her eyes closed at the touch. I knew I couldn't back away.

I rubbed her slowly through Diane's jeans and she closed her legs on my hand. When she opened them, I rubbed harder and faster causing her to close them again. While she had my hand trapped, she unbuttoned the front of the jeans, took my hand and slid them down into her crotch. I could feel her pubic hair and below it a patch of soft wet skin inviting me to explore further. I curled my finger and slid it into her wet pussy causing her to moan softly.

Diane grabbed my hand and started controlling the movement, gyrating her hips and squeezing her thighs together. Her eyes were shut tight and her breathing was ragged and punctuated by grunts. She almost looked like she was loosing control when she gripped my hand with hers and pushed it as far into her pussy as she could. This was followed by a pulsing, throbbing sensation in her vagina as her orgasm consumed her.

"Well, isn't this a sight."

I heard the voice and it didn't come from Diane. I peered over my shoulder and there stood Zeej. God, she was beautiful. Black leather low-slung pants and a black strap T-shirt with her nipples, aroused from watching Diane, poking hard against the fabric of her T-shirt. Black, black and more black. Why did she look so beautiful to me?

I tried to assess her mood. Angry? Upset? Aroused? Pleased? She was like a good poker player keeping her emotions close to her vest.

Diane scrambled to pull my hand out of her jeans and button up.

"Zelda Jean, I'm sorry." Diane was trying to get the words out without success. "I... I..."

"You what?" Zeej replied, still without showing her emotion. "You just decided to cheat on me with a stranger?"

Diane was cheating on Zeej? Now it made sense. Diane in Zeej's apartment. The movie and how it affected Diane.

"And YOU," Zeej continued. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought something for you," I replied. It sounded weak, especially for someone caught with his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. I got up and walked over to where she was standing.

Zeej reached down, lifted my hand to her face and smelled it. Then, looking back over at Diane, she slipped my fingers into her mouth and sucked Diane's juices from them. Diane lowered her head like a puppy caught chewing its master's shoe. When she finished licking my fingers she dropped my hand and stepped back.

"Thanks for the bike," she said still staring at Diane. "Now get out. Diane and I have something to do."

I started for the door stopping long enough to turn and see Diane opening Zeej's jeans and softly kissing the bare skin below her belly while Zeej stroked her hair. They were far more compatible than Zeej and I would ever be.

The next day at the office I tore up her number and got my ear pierced, but I was still way out of my league.

Chapter 5

"Bill, new haircut?"

"Bill, new suit?"

"Hey Bill, did you get a raise?"

You would think I was taking Viagra or something. Everyone thought there was something different about me. Sure, I had an earring, but most people assumed I had it before and they never noticed. Hell, most everyone at the office had earrings. No, it was something else.

I had left, OK, been thrown out of Zeej's apartment after masturbating her lover while watching a porn movie. I missed Zeej, my "walk on the wild side", but I had not given up. The next night I had gone back to the apartment and sat outside for an hour until I saw Diane walking down the sidewalk.

"Got a minute for me?" he asker her. She looked nervous, glancing up at the third floor apartment, but agreed to climb into my car.

"I didn't get you in trouble last night, did I?" I asked. I was genuinely concerned although it did not look like Zeej was going to do anything drastic when I left. Rather, it looked like Zeej and Diane were going to pick up where I left off.

"No," Diane told me. "She wasn't happy but she got over it."

"I like Zeej," I confessed. "I don't know why. If you lined five women in a row, each dressed differently and put Zeej in with them, I would never pick her for a date, never mind a roll in the hay."

"What are you talking about?" Diane asked incredulously. "You've fucked her three times."

"That's what I mean," I tried to explain. "I love making it with her but..." I left the words hang in the air. "So, why do you like her?"

"I guess it's a long story," she said starting to explain but thinking the better of it. "Let's just say that I do and leave it at that."

"But you didn't mind having my hand down your pants rubbing your cunt, sorry, pussy," I said catching myself before drawing her ire.

"I... It wasn't..." She seemed to be trying to say something but couldn't or wouldn't. We sat there for a minute and then it dawned on me.

"Zeej knew it was happening, didn't she?" I asked. "She followed me in and watched us start and let us go all the way."

Diane lowered her head. I knew it. Diane was Zeej's plaything and she let me play with it for a while. Maybe because Zeej wasn't in the mood. Or maybe it turned her on.

"Look, I know you need to go," I said to Diane. "Can you give me your email address? That way I can contact you sort of confidentially." I was really hoping Diane would.

"Don't ever call me here," she said as she pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and jotted down her email address. I gave her mine and with that, she got out of the car and went inside. I watched as she walked away. Diane was a good-looking kid... nice shape, pretty face, and conservative dresser. What did she see in Zeej? What did Zeej see in her? What did Zeej see in me? I couldn't figure it out.

The next day dragged. I thought about Zeej and our encounters. She certainly seemed to know what she wanted. She took control of situations, got what she wanted and then sent you on your way. That was what disturbed me the most. No holding or cuddling in post-coital bliss like most women want. Not Zeej. She got what she wanted and moved on without the emotional strings.

But why did that disturb me? Zeej was not the type of girl I would bring home to mother (assuming mother was still alive). She was a pincushion of piercings, dressed most of the time in black and would scare most men she met on the street. But if you shut the lights out and relied on your sense of touch and smell, Zeej would drive you crazy. She had a tight body with small but perky tits, firm legs and butt and smelled great.

I thought about Diane, a pretty blond who also had a nice figure, larger tits and a round ass. Why didn't she affect me the way Zeej did? Any man would love to be with Diane. I enjoyed my brief encounter with her, but thinking of it did not give me a hard on like the ones I got thinking about Zeej.

I left work at my usual time and headed down Michigan Avenue when a voice broke into my thoughts.

"Hey"

I turned to look out the driver's side window and there was Zeej on her bike holding on to the side of my car being pulled along through traffic.

"Hey yourself," I replied.

"GET OFF THE FUCKIN' STREET," a motorist screamed as he passed from the opposite direction.

"FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE," Zeej yelled back at the irate driver, then turning back to me said calmly "Got a minute?"

I was concerned for her safety so I told her to let go of the car and pulled over out of traffic. I got out of the car as she pulled up on the bike.

"Like the bike?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," was her response. I guess the thank-you the other night was all I would get for my $900. But she surprised me when she leaned over and pressed her lips into mine. Her mouth tasted sweet as her tongue darted and poked into mine. I could smell her scent and, like Pavlov's dogs, my cock started to harden. She pressed her body hard against mine and sucked on my tongue.

"Get in the car," she whispered. She locked her bike to a parking meter and we got in the front seat of my car. She grabbed my hand. "Do me like you did Diane."

I looked around outside the car. The sidewalk was busy, but not crowded. My car has tinted windows so it would be difficult, but not impossible, to see what was happening inside the car. I don't think it was even a consideration for Zeej. She was already opening her pants and in seconds she was stuffing my hand into them.

My hand slipped over her coarse pubic hair and found her opening wet and hot. She sighed as my finger slowly slid up and down the opening searching for her clit. When she gasped I knew I had found it. I started a slow, gentle stroking motion and she leaned back and closed her eyes. It was quiet in the car and the only movement was my hand buried in her pants. I watched her face and except for her breathing, which was slow and steady, she did not move.

Gradually her breathing became more labored and ragged. I continued stroking at a slow pace but she grabbed my hand and started moving it faster. I saw that her sensitivity was increasing as she twitched when my fingers hit the right spot. My hand was moving faster now paced by Zeej who had both of her hands on mine. She was, in essence, masturbating herself with my hand.

The world was walking by my car and I couldn't care less. They did not know what was going on and I didn't care if they did. Zeej was next to me getting off with my hand and that is all I cared about.

"OH, FUCK!" she screamed and suddenly she closed her thighs on my hand. I could feel her muscles contracting as her orgasm exploded inside her. Zeej rode my hand long and hard until the spasms in her pussy subsided and finally opened her eyes. She slipped her hand in her pants and cupped her hand over mine. As she pulled them both out she curled the fingers so they scooped her juices. Bringing my hand to her mouth, she sucked on each finger and licking it clean.

She hadn't looked at me since this started and now only stared out the front of the car as she slid her fingers in and out of my mouth. I turned to look where she was looking and froze. In front of my car was a parking cop. She was standing there staring back into the car at Zeej holding her ticket book with a half written ticket in it in her hand. I looked back at Zeej and she had absolutely no emotion on her face.

Zeej dropped my hand and fixed her pants, never taking her eyes off the woman standing in front of the car. "9:00 tonight, my apartment," was all she said and she opened the car door and got out, never taking her eyes off the parking cop. She walked over to the woman in blue and held up her hand and I watched in amazement as the woman first smelled and then licked Zeej's fingers.

Zeej turned, unlocked her bike and rode off leaving both me and the cop staring at her. Her ability to mesmerize people astounded me.

Chapter 6

Once again, I had been a victim of a hit and run. Even stranger, a cop had witnessed it. What drove Zeej not only to want to have sex with me, but to also not care that a cop watched? And where did she get the balls to walk up to the cop after and have her lick Zeej's juices off her fingers. Was Zeej that good of a judge of character? Well, she sure knew me.

"9:00 at my place tonight."

"9:00 at my place tonight."

"9:00 at my place tonight."

The words kept ringing in my head. That's all Zeej said when she left me. Not "Do you want to..." Not "Can you..." If my daughter had said something like that to me I would have responded with an "Excuse me, young lady."

But not with Zeej. I felt honored that she allowed me to masturbate her to orgasm in front of the cop and anyone else that happened to walk by my car. And her wish was my command.

I got home and showered. The thought crossed my mind to do a little masturbation myself, but I thought better of it. Zeej was a young colt that would like to be ridden long and hard and a guy pushing 50 needs all he can to keep up with someone like that.

No, no fun in the shower tonight. I dried off, dressed and sat down to read my email. I was disappointed that there was no email from Diane. I thought it would be nice to chat with her, but maybe she would send one later. For the rest of the evening I kept checking my watch and at 8:45 headed for Zeej's apartment. I had no idea what I was headed for. My gut feel was it would involve a lot of pleasure for Zeej and maybe some for me. I was not sure whether Diane would be there and, if she was, where she would fit in.

When I pulled up in front of Zeej's apartment my heart was racing. I don't know why but it was. I got out of the car and walked around to the back of house and started up the stairs. About half way up I stopped as my common sense started to rear its ugly head. What was I doing? Why did Zeej, someone I had little to nothing in common with and wouldn't choose for a date, attract me? I was like a skydiver who knew what he was doing could be dangerous but got a thrill out of it anyway.

"Are you coming up or not?"

Zeej's voice snapped me back to reality.

"Hi," I said back to her. She just stood there in the dark at the door waiting for me to either turn and run or go inside. Like a moth to a flame I walked towards her and followed her inside. I looked around and saw candles lit throughout the apartment.

"Power out?"

Zeej was at the counter pouring a couple of drinks and did not answer. OK, I knew the candles couldn't be to set a romantic mood. "Romantic" and "Zeej" never crossed my mind in the same thought. Maybe it was to set some other mood. Satanic sacrifice? Great. I could see the headlines the next day.

"Punk Chick Sacrifices Marketing Executive in Candlelight Ritual."

Zeej handled me one of the glasses and she took the other and downed it quickly. I took a sip. Whisky, straight. I was taking another sip while Zeej poured a second glass for herself and walked over to the table. The three candles on the table gave me my first good look at her.

Her short, black hair blended into the darkness of the room. So did her clothes, which appeared to be a long sleeve black top and tight black jeans. The candles gave the skin on her face, hands and belly a soft glow. Despite the glimmering of light off the rings on her eyebrow, nose and ears, Zeej looked quite pretty standing there.

"I have something to show you," she said, and she took my hand and led me into her bedroom. Candles were glowing around the entire room and the light shown on a figure on Zeej's bed. It was Diane, just sitting there with arms wrapped around her legs, which were pulled to her chest. She was clearly naked but covering herself so nothing showed.

"Hi Diane," I said to her. She made a slight wave with her hand acknowledging that I had spoken to her but did not respond.

"Not her," Zeej said. "Sit down."

I sat in a chair and Zeej walked over and stood in front of me. She slowly unbuttoned her jeans and let them slide down to the floor. To my surprise she was wearing something other than black for under the jeans. She had on a red thong.

"Very nice," I said complimenting her on her choice of underwear.

"Shut up," she replied and she lowered the thong to reveal her pussy which was clean-shaven and smooth.

"Very nice," I said again thinking that was what Zeej wanted to show me. Wrong again.

"Look closer."

Not that I needed a reason to put my face closer to Zeej I nevertheless obeyed and moved my face closer to her. There in the candlelight I could see the sparkle of a diamond stud. She had pierced her clitoris. OK, maybe there weren't many places left on her body to pierce, but her clit?

"Take a good look at it," she said putting her hands on the back of my head and pulling me closer. I allowed my head to move forward until my lips met her puffy outer lips. Zeej lifted her foot and rested it on the arm of the chair giving me a better "view." I leaned forward and slipped my tongue between her legs and flicked at the diamond. Zeej's reaction was to crush my face onto her pelvis.