by Hazel Parker
True to my word, even driving safely and abnormally cautiously, even for me, the bowling alley was less than ten minutes away. I pulled up slowly into a parking spot, put the kickstand down, and killed the engine.
“You still alive back there?”
“Oh, man,” Courtney said, leading to a chuckle from me.
She sought words for several seconds as her arms slowly unraveled from me. I hopped off the bike and offered her a hand as I lifted her off as well. She looked at me with an expression I had not yet seen before, but it was one I immediately recognized.
It was the look of strong, almost uncontrolled, physical attraction.
“That…”
She was struggling to get her words out under the intensity of her hormones, the experience, and everything that had led to this very moment. It was hard for me to imagine ever being in that spot—I’d ridden dirt bikes at a young age, so getting on a bike just felt like getting on the adult version of said bikes.
“Glad you did it?”
“Fuck yes!” Courtney said with a vigor she hadn’t yet displayed. “Oh, what a thrill! Oh my God, that was amazing. Holy shit. And you said you were going slow? You were going to go safely?”
“I normally don’t drive like a maniac, I have friends at the shop who drive much more crazily than me,” I said, almost blurting out on the Savage Saints. “But yes, I was driving even more cautiously than normal.”
“Damn,” she said. “When we come back, do me a favor and drive a little bit faster. Or just do something. I was so scared on that, but after the first couple of minutes… wow!”
I laughed as I took the helmet from her, put it in the compartment, and slung an arm around her as I led her into the bowling alley. Before, she had gently leaned into me, but now, it was like she wanted to practically push up into me, like she wanted our bodies to mold into one. She was undeniably horny, and my idea of “inevitable,” which had meant the third or fourth date, now suddenly seemed like the third or fourth hour of this date.
When we got inside, I don’t think her eyes ever left me. It was almost cute; except I didn’t put “cute” and “sexual” in the same context frequently. Whenever I got bowling equipment, whenever I got the balls, whenever I bowled, she had her eyes on me. She made more than a few comments about the “nice ass for a forty-year-old” I had and about the “forearms that could handle some hard and delicate things alike.”
Within one game of bowling, I was all but reassured that I was going to get laid.
If I wanted it.
It was strange to say, wasn’t it? Usually, the guy would want to get laid much more than the girl. In this case, I was pretty sure I could have asked Courtney to fuck me in the bathroom and she would have.
The only problem, though, was I couldn’t shake the words “inevitably tragic” from my mind. I was doing my best to stay present and let things progress as they did, but I knew crossing the line into sex was a very different ballgame. That was the barrier when things went from fun to almost a sense of obligation. It was no longer just fun to go on dates and have a good time; there was a certain duty to be respectful and to give time to the other person.
Right now, from the adrenaline thrill of being on the bike, Courtney was all hormones and all lust. But if we did have sex today, there would come a point where she would want to know more about me. What had I done the last twenty years? Who were my friends? What did they do? Where did my fascination with bikes really take off?
It would be in those moments that my connection to the Savage Saints would come out, and then I would have that inevitable tragedy of the relationship ending.
Truth be told, the sex was going to happen. I knew that unless I had the balls to stand up and confess, it was going to happen. But I was an avoidant person by nature, especially when it came to hard truths with people. I was too good at not saying what needed to be said or finding something else that sounded equally good in its steed.
The one thing I could think of, though, was to change her perception of the Saints strongly enough that when it all came out, the blow would be lessened and we might be able to continue. The odds weren’t great for the reasons I had thought of before, but they were better than what they were now. And there was one way I could think of that would likely do just that.
At one point, having drunk so much water that she couldn’t hold it anymore, Courtney went to the bathroom after she had bowled. Rather than have me take my frame, though, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to Sheriff Wiggins.
“Can you look into a case for me? Nathan Ingles or something like that. Killed a few years ago. Will try and get more specific info later.”
I waited a couple of minutes to see if the good sheriff would respond to me, but his text bubble didn’t appear until Courtney began walking back to me.
“You didn’t bowl!” she said.
I swore the girl’s lust was making her act like she was on five cups of coffee. It was funny how it all worked—how I’d been the one to reach out to her at Alyssa’s production, and now she was the aggressor.
“I wanted you to come back so you could be here for the end of the game,” I said with a smile. “It only felt fair. Besides, you’re assuming I wouldn’t cheat.”
“Oh, you dirty little bastard,” she said, planting a kiss on my lips. “Now bowl!”
I turned around, and she smacked my ass. I looked back at her and about tackled her right there. I’d tried to keep under control, but any man could resist such overtures for only so long before he just said, “fuck it” and went for it.
We had paid for another game after that, but before I got everything set up, Courtney came over and put her hands around my neck.
“Let’s get out of here,” she whispered. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”
I couldn’t believe that this girl had that kind of spark to her. I knew never to judge a woman’s sexual tastes or drive based on her initial appearance, but this was still stunning. I jokingly thought to myself that I needed to tell all the prospects to take girls on their bikes in the future.
“Say no more,” I said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the desk, where we hurriedly changed out our shoes for the ones we wore in.
I took her to the bike, sat down, and pressed my lips firmly on her as I squeezed her ass. Now, it wasn’t just her who was feeling all sorts of sexually charged; it was me too. She ran her hands all over me, feeling my chest, my stomach, and…
“Get on the bike,” I said before we started doing things we really didn’t need to be doing in public.
“Your place or mine?” she said as she swung her leg over and put her arms around me.
“You’re closer,” I said.
She gave me her address and the general directions. I had that engine roaring and my bike speeding away as if I were Krispy, going twenty over the speed limit.
If she wanted an adventure on the bike as a sort of foreplay, then she was going to fucking get it.
Chapter 12: Courtney
Never, ever, ever in my life had I ever predicted that a motorcycle would be the aphrodisiac for me.
But when I got on that bike the first time from the park to the bowling alley… I saw Vance in a whole new light that was indescribable. I don’t know what the fuck it was—obviously, it was my first time feeling his body, and that was great, but it couldn’t have just been the fact that his body felt like a Greek god’s.
It was just… there was a certain aspect to Vance being able to control the bike so easily, having the audacity to throw everything to the wind, the sort of freedom that I only got glimpses of on his bike that was just so incredibly sexually charging. I had liked him before as a man, but on that bike, he elevated himself to something different.
And as a result, I felt very much unlike I had felt since probably middle or high school—but unlike those awkward teenage days, when everything that I did carried a sense of uncertainty and possibly discomfort, now I had the confidence to do wha
t I wanted to do. I wanted to have sex with Vance, and I wasn’t going to stop at anything to do so.
I was a little surprised that it took him some time to warm up, but the ass slap seemed to have gotten him going. It was enough to turn him from cautious and hesitant into a sexual maven, and as soon as I told him we needed to leave, it was like I’d told him his choices were sex or get shot. He moved so quickly and had me on the bike so fast I wasn’t even sure if we’d paid for everything.
But being back on that bike made me forget it all. I didn’t care one bit about what had happened before; I only cared for what was about to happen right there, and I had some really good feelings for what was about to happen here. Maybe when I came down, I would feel different, but right now, there wasn’t anything I wanted to come down to.
The bike ride back to my house was a bit of a longer ride than I think Vance had anticipated, because more than once, at a stop sign, he would lean back and ask if we had missed the turn. Naturally, I would say no, but I would punctuate it with some teasing scratches of his belly. I really, really wanted to reach down to his groin, but I was already terrified enough of something happening on a bike while he rode normally; I did not think anyone, even Vance, could drive properly while the idea of sex was quite literally present.
He finally did pull up to my apartment, and when we couldn’t find any parking, Vance just said, “fuck it” and squeezed in between two cars who had left just enough space for his bike to slide in.
“I don’t think—”
“Hush,” he said, unbuckling my helmet before pulling me into a passionate kiss.
He broke it only to get to the other side, and then he hoisted me up and carried me in his arms. I squealed with delight as I felt myself flying to my apartment, my feet never touching the sidewalk as he led me up a couple of flights of stairs. I couldn’t stop laughing, and I couldn’t stop smiling.
This was amazing. And to think, he showed up this morning looking like hell. Think of how good it would be if he had shown up with some energy!
He came to my door and had to let me down, but only because I had to get my key out to open the door. Both of us were insatiable by this point; when a nearby neighbor opened her door to go downstairs, I had to have Vance move between her and I so she wouldn’t see me pushing my ass into him, practically begging him to doggy style me out here in the open.
I must have fumbled with a few keys before I got the door open. As soon as I did, Vance stepped in, tugged me inside, and shut the door behind me. The keys fell to the ground as my hands lifted to his face, and he pushed me against the kitchen counter. I sat up on it, my butt just inches from the sink, as I then reached for his shirt, lifting it off and admiring his body.
He had some gorgeous tattoos on the front of him, including that of a dragon, his daughter’s name on one arm, and a cross on the far right.
“Fucking hot,” I said.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, almost seeming to be caught off-guard by what I had said.
I wasn’t sure why—it wasn’t like he had exactly resisted me taking my shirt off. The important thing was now reaching to take my shirt off.
I didn’t have any tattoos but seeing Vance with them was enough to make me think of getting my own. Of course, Vance also had the body of a Greek god, and though there were some signs that he had aged, he also looked much younger on the whole. I hadn’t gone on any dates in the last few years, so I didn’t have any naked comparisons, but it was pretty apparent that Vance had a better body than well over ninety percent of men my age or between us.
He moved to kiss from my lips to my earlobe and to my neck, breathing hot air into my ears every few seconds. I shivered uncontrollably as I could no longer resist the desire to reach down and feel him. My hands went to his crotch, and his jeans bulged. He reached his hands behind and deftly removed my bra.
“Fuck yes,” he growled.
His words and grunts, though simple and quiet, had me wet and heated all over. I’d never had sex on the kitchen counter before—frankly, I’d never even thought to have sex on the kitchen counter before—but at this point, I gave no fucks. Kitchen counter, outdoors, on the couch, in the bed; it was all good to me, however it happened.
Vance, though, lifted me off, and my legs went around him as he carried me.
“Damn, you’re strong!” I said while I laughed.
“Where’s the bedroom?” he grunted.
I pointed to the door and he carried me forward, ducking only slightly to make sure that I was able to get in without hitting my head on the frame. The two of us crumbled onto the bed, and it was at this point that he dragged me to the edge and knelt before me. With his eyes attached to mine, he unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down, leaving me in only my underwear.
He kissed my calves and my legs, and I shivered in anticipation. I was this close to yanking my panties off myself, just so he could get to the point quicker, but Vance seemed to enjoy teasing me through his hot-cold pace. One minute, he could be breaking every speed limit in the town to get to our apartment, and the next, he could be kissing my legs one centimeter at a time, heightening the anticipation with every step.
“Vance… oh, fuck,” I whimpered, my voice light and airy.
Finally, he got to my underwear, taking a big sniff. I was amazed at how good it made me feel. He didn’t just like me—he craved me, all of me.
“Oh, fuck, I can’t wait!”
I reached down to grab my panties, but he put a hand on them, holding them in place, looking up at me with a sly grin. I stared at him with intense eyes, and then, as if to prove his point, he slowly took them off. His fingers brushed over my clit as he removed them, sending another rush of warmth through my body.
“Patience, Courtney,” he said with a deep voice. “The climax can’t also be the introduction.”
Oh, fuck, how do you sound so sexy!
He returned to kissing to my legs once he had it all off, but this time, he didn’t go slow. He moved at an acceptable pace, placing his mouth right over me and pausing for just a half second. He looked up at me, smirked, said, “Enjoy,” and then kissed me before pressing his tongue onto me.
I let out a loud moan, way louder than I thought I would actually produce. I hadn’t been touched there in literally years; even I had lost my desire to touch myself in the immediate aftermath of losing Nathaniel. It had gotten better a little bit, but it hadn’t really roared to life until the last week and a half when Vance had come into my life.
And fuck, I sure hoped he came into a little bit more than just my life.
My legs clenched on him as my hips started to shake. He put his hands under my ass, supporting me and squeezing, intensifying the radiant sensation coming from my pussy. I grabbed his skull to try and push him in deeper. He looked up at me with those eyes, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at them for long—not for any bad reason, but because it was so damn good that I didn’t think I’d last much longer if I looked at him.
As it was, he was so good, and I hadn’t been touched there in so long, it didn’t take long before my breathing was intensifying and my shaking was getting out of control. I could no longer control my shaking—I was clenching uncontrollably. My pussy was pulsating, and my whole body just felt like it was going to writhe out of control.
And then it started to approach. I was seconds away. I think I told him I was about to come, but honestly, at that moment, I was speaking gibberish. I was in some sort of different space, like the entirety of my body was concentrated in my clit that Vance was working on.
Then, in a rush, it all hit, and I let out a massive cry. I shook violently as warmth rushed all through my body. By how much I was shaking and squirming, Vance should have let go. But he held on, continuing to lick me and suck on me, prolonging the orgasm to that boundary between pleasure and pleasurable pain.
“Oh, stop, stop, stop!” I finally had to yell, kicking him away on his shoulders as I pushed myself back on the bed, trying to catch my bre
ath.
No one—not Nathaniel, not any of my high school boyfriends, not any of my college casual flings—had ever done anything like that to me. No one. And yet, it had just happened.
I spent several seconds just lying there on the bed, trying to make sense of what had just happened. It didn’t make any sense, but it didn’t need to. The outcome was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had in my life, not anything bad. I was in a different state, a different world of pleasure that had no description. I was… I was in fucking heaven.
I had to be.
That was the only thing that made a modicum of sense.
And the craziest part? I wasn’t done yet. When I came back to, and the orgasm ended, he had only made me that much hornier for him. This wasn’t something like before where one orgasm had finished me and the rest was just waiting for the man to come.
No, this was the best kind of orgasm—the kind that promised more.
I sat up and looked at Vance, who had risen from his knees and stood before me, still wearing his jeans.
“The fuck do you still have those on?” I said.
He shrugged in an exaggerated, goofy fashion, his palms up to the ceiling.
“You needed to come first!” he said.
“Yeah, and I did,” I said as I flopped over to my belly. “Now it’s your turn.”
I crawled on the bed like a panther toward him, smiling and licking my lips. I moved to his belly and kissed his chest and stomach as I worked to unbutton his jeans. But unlike Vance, who had taken it a couple of steps at a time, removing first my jeans and then my panties, I wanted him completely naked right then.
Imagine my pleasant surprise, then, when I did so and his cock, stiff as a statue, too, sprung out of his pants and smacked me in the chin.
“Oh, oh my!” I said, laughing as he helped get the clothes off by kicking them to the side. “You could have warned me you were so big!”
Again, he gave that goofy, casual shrug.