To a spit and sawdust bar in the middle of nowhere.
To a booth in the corner with a dozen bikers watching me.
To my knees before an Angel who looked to be their leader.
He stood and gripped my hair, a thick length in each hand which he twisted roughly around his fists, pulling my face forward. I could smell him through the fabric of his jeans, thick and sweet with just a hint of sour sweat and my hand obediently moved to his belt buckle, unclasping the rebel flag and tugging. A movement beneath the fabric as his cock celebrated the first hint of freedom, and I unbuttoned the denim, then tugged down the zip.
A laugh behind me. “Feed her, Al!”
Al laughed. “She’ll feed herself. Won’t you, Harley?”
It wasn’t my name but I fixed his eyes with mine and smiled. “Oh yeah.” He sprang out, already hard, and for a moment I simply gazed on him, thick and handsome, the head curving elegantly down to the shaft, the tip already slick. Beside him, the girl with whom he’d been making out looked at me with undisguised hatred and my eye fell to her booted feet, prepared for the kick that I knew was on her mind. And then Al tugged again on my hair, hard, and my face was against his cock, my lips pressed and pressing as I opened my mouth and sucked at the shaft.
I angled him with one hand and, holding him loosely, started to lick, long sweeps around and across his shaft, tasting the scent that hung in my nostrils, raising him with my hand to suck on his balls, and feeling that familiar thrill as he let out a low moan of pleasure.
Then a sudden flash of pain as he twisted one fist and the hair that he held in it strained at the roots. My eyes met his... what do you want?... but I knew. Raising myself slightly on my haunches, I touched the tip of his cock to my lips, and started drawing him in.
His left hand was still twisting, pulling my hair, ripping at it and my head began to bob, faster and faster as he twisted harder and harder; then his other hand jerked and I stopped for a moment. He whispered, “you’re learning,” and the girl beside him laughed. “Yeah, ride that bitch,” and I understood. Left hand, accelerate; right hand, brake. My hair was handlebars, my mouth was the engine, and now I knew why he had started calling me Harley. Because he intended riding me like one. My fingers grasped his cock just a little above the ring, that lovely little nubby, a buffer for my mouth as I fed him in. His cock was average, at least in my experience, six or maybe seven inches (I envy those girls who can measure in their mind), and not so thick that my jaw strained.
Where Al excelled was in its strength; deep in my mouth I could feel his cock straining against my upper teeth, fighting against the grip of my fist, delving deeper, and then pushing in hard as strange hands grabbed both of my wrists from behind and held them behind me, in a grip that wouldn’t quit. Oh fuck.
Other hands held the back of my head.
The girl slipped down beside me and, for a moment, I thought she wanted to share the cock. But no, fingers were at my lips, stretching my mouth wider, pulling uncomfortably as her man drove in deeper - and paused. I froze too, and then the left fist jerked and I would have cried out if my mouth wasn’t crammed with cock and fingers.
I was rocking back and forth, my head blurring as I fucked his cock with my mouth and he started fucking me back, faster and faster as one fist twisted tighter in my hair, then slowing as the other came into play. Accelerate, brake; accelerate, brake.
He was good, pushing deep but no so deep that he choked me, pulling up short of my gag reflex, gliding over my lips and teeth, breathing hard as his hips ground his pleasure, controlling my every movement with his fists. The cock ring hummed against my front teeth, sending unfamiliar sensations through my body as he rode his bike ever harder and harder. Accelerate, brake; accelerate, brake.
The girl’s fingers were gone; I didn’t even notice until I felt her hands on my breasts, roughly squeezing through my t-shirt, twisting the already swollen nipples and then delving beneath the thin fabric, rolling it up to bare my tits to the room full of now leering bikers. I moved slightly to allow her more access, and my rhythm must have shifted slightly for the first in my hair twisted harder than ever... accelerate! Accelerate! There was something on my breasts, something strange but so sensational. A massager. A kiss. A mechanical kiss. A pleasure kiss. I couldn’t see, but I could hear it, buzzing gently and then louder as a switch was flicked and the sensations intensified. I strained myself forward, my nipples crying out for touch, but the girl knew what she was doing, teasing me, torturing me, reducing my body to jello as her man fucked my head to pulp.
A thought crossed my mind. Apparently they chose their sex toys with the same care that they lavished on their motorbikes.
How long could I keep this up for? How long had it been going on for? I opened my eyes, unaware that I’d ever even closed them, and saw Vic, the guy who brought me here watching. Beside him, another girl was almost casually jerking him off and I guessed they weren’t the only couple getting off on the scene playing out before them.
There’s that moment when you know he’s going to cum, that split second where everything gets harder and hotter and I wouldn’t want to swear to it but the flavor changes too, the flavor of his cock becomes one you want to taste forever and, if you’re good, and he’s good too, then you can... well, not forever but long enough to enjoy it before everything goes off, and my eyes met his as his face broke into a grin and he knew we were there.
He gave it more gas, and I reared up, a wild wheelie. My hair felt like it was burning but I didn’t care. My hands broke the grip that held them and I grabbed Al’s legs, wrapped around his knees, pulling him forward as I topped back, and he knew exactly what I wanted, pinning me back in one sweet fluid moment, with his cock still plunging in and out my mouth as his fists released my hair and slammed down on either side of my head. His legs spread on either side of my torso and it was seamless, the way he slipped and I slid and we merged, the ultimate silver dream machine, every gear and piston slick and streamlined and when he came....
He raised himself up. I gasped with surprise at the sudden void in my mouth, then cried out with glee as his cum showered down, slapping hot against my bare tits, up to my chin, my cheek, my lips, thick ribbons of jizz that sprayed and flayed my skin with their heat. Then I reached up and grabbed him, jerking the last of his cum from his cock and sucking it out as well, pulling him into my mouth and gorging. He softened slowly but I continued to suck, draining him and draining myself as well, knowing that the orgasm that had shaken me as I swallowed him was unlike any I had ever experienced. And I lay there on the wooden floor as he shifted his weight and lay beside me, my eyes fixed on the ceiling fan as it whirred above us, my ears noting as the sound of the room went back to normal, then there was a rustle to my left and someone handed him a newspaper. Open to a certain page. Open to my occasional column in the local rag.
Al read my name aloud from the page, then laughed.
“So, girlie. How far would you go for a story?” I sat up, toying with the insignia pinned to his leather jacket. “Answer my questions, and maybe I’ll show you.”
I'm a writer, not a photographer. So just be aware that the pics on this site were not taken by me, and aren't owned by me either - not even the ones that I'm in. If you are a photographer and find your pics on this site, please get in touch - I'd love to credit you (if you wish), and even use more of your work. If you're here it's because I love the photo!
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