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Motorcycle Fantasy

It's evening. Maybe seven. Warm. Not hot, warm. Since I start to get uncomfortable around 83 degrees, it's probably in the mid to high 70's. Slight breeze. The surrounding area is office buildings, not like downtown Chicago, more along the lines of a suburban area with a few corporate buildings around a large parking lot. The lot is mostly in shadow but lights illuminate small portions of the lot.

The parking lot is nearly empty, a few cars parked here and there, but there's only one bike, which has to be His. I pull up next to it and wait. He's late. It's too warm in my car so I hop out and lean against my car. More time passes and the butterflies fluttering in my stomach increases.

This is our third meeting and up until now I hadn't seen his bike. Curiosity gets the better of me. I push myself off my car and walk around it. I circle it a couple times, taking in every detail. I look around quickly, my teeth nipping at my bottom lip before slowly sliding my hand over the cool black leather seat up until I reach the handle bars.

"What are you doing?"

I yelp and jump away from his bike.

"You know better." His voice is firm but I catch the amusement in his eyes.

He's right, I was raised to always respect the bike and never touch one with out permission. It's common sense really but my uncle and his crew were very protective of me back then. Even though they passed me beer and smokes under the table at the local dive bar they ruled. I may not have respected the law but I sure as shit respected their laws.

"Hi." I say.

Reading me like a book he smiles and before I have a chance to blink he pushes me over the seat of his bike. The smell of leather goes right to my head causing me to lose myself for a second. That is all he needs, my ass in the air, my arms trapped under the weight of my chest and his arm is holding me in place.

"Did you ask for permission to touch my bike?" I shake my head and try to push myself up but he's stronger then me. Goose pimples break out along my skin and my lips curve up into a dangerous smile.

"Look at me." He says pulling my head back by my dark, curly ponytail. Before I can get my face under control he catches my smirk. "I asked you a question."

"No. I didn't have permission."

"But you touched it anyway. What happens when you touch it with out permission?"

"I get punished."

"That's correct." He says leaning into me. One hand is on the small of my back holding me in place. His free hand is on my ass.

The previous two meetings were mainly to get to know each other face to face. Mostly consisting of flirting, talking and a quick hug before we parted ways. This was the most contact we'd had and the thought made my shiver. "How old were you the first time you were on a bike?" His voice is calm but firm.

"Seven." I whisper.

"The last time?"

"Twenty four."

"Seventeen it is. Count them properly or I'll start over."

Before I have a chance to react the first blow lands on my right cheek. I squeak and try harder to pull my arms out from under me. The second one hits my left cheek and I realize that not only am I getting exactly what I've told him I want but it's nothing like I ever imagined. It's better. The shock has my head reeling and I forget to count. It takes me a few more good swats before I remember.

"Start over." He says. The weight of his strong hand on my back disappears and for a second I consider standing up. "Good girl." He says when I don't move. "Put your arms out in front of you and let them drop straight down, if you try to block me it will only get worse." I do as he says and thank him. "One more thing before we start." He moves so fast that I don't realize what he's done until I feel the night on my bare ass. I pull my head back and look down. My black panties are around my knees and he's pushed my skirt up around my waist.

My world goes dark for a second. No sound, no light, fear. Fear and heat paralyze me. He starts again.

"One. Thank you Sir." I hear the words but it takes me a second to come back to reality.

"Two. Thank you Sir." The words are being spoken but I don't feel it. All of my attention is on his movements, his breathing and the feel of his skin on mine. My mind and body are fighting for control over the situation. My body wants to give in, drift away and relish in the pleasure-pain.

My brain is screaming warnings. Telling me that anyone left in the offices can see us. That I need to make this stop and that I need to get away from him. To forget everything and get back to my normal life.

My body has other ideas.

By seventeen my legs are shaking, my ass is burning and my face is wet. On that last blow his hand remains on my ass, gently caressing the heat. His fingers slide down until he reaches my soaking center and God help me I smile and push into his fingers. He chuckles and I feel the heat of his body behind me.

"This wasn't exactly what I had planned but it will work out better this way." Then he's inside me and the sound that escapes my body is unlike anything I've made before. He groans against my ear, telling me what I good girl I am and I moan and push my hips back to meet his.

The world around me disappears as his thrusts grow in strength and power. His fingers continue their assault on my clit and with in seconds I'm crying out for him. Begging him for more. His body is crushing mine against the bike. I can't get a full breath into my lungs. The harder he thrusts the more I lose myself. He's taking everything away from me. I start to lose any remaining grasp on reality. He speeds up and I feel like I'm being ripped apart.

The only sounds I hear are his breathy groans. My gasping breath and incoherent moans. And the taunting sound of flesh slapping against flesh. My wet body welcoming his hard, thickness deeper and deeper. I can't be sure but I think I'm begging him to take me further, harder, faster, but that could be in my head.

Then it's over. His lips brush the back of my neck and his weight is gone. I shiver and try to stand up. He gives me

"Step out." He says.

I hold on to his thick forearm to steady myself and with out thinking about it, I lift my legs. I shudder when he slips my panties into his pocket.

"Ready to go?" He asks.

I nod and wait for him to sit down. I slip behind him and cringe at the deep throbbing ache already building between my still shaking thighs. I wrap my arms around him and bury my head in his back. Inhaling deeply I close my eyes and memorize the earthy, leather scent of him. He starts the bike, the vibration tearing a groan from inside of me. I feel his chest shaking as he chuckles. I keep my eyes closed, replaying every second of what just happened until I feel the bike moving. I open my eyes and as we pull out of the parking lot I catch a man sitting in an office, not twenty feet from where we were, with his pants down around his ankles and a satisfied grin on his face. I tap my guy on the shoulder and point. He chuckles and I nearly orgasm for the forth time.

"Thank you." I whisper, assuming he can't hear me.

"Anytime darlin." And we drive off into the night.

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