Motorhead

by Kate Gilead

  “Hey…look! There’s an ice-cream shop? I have dinner planned but not till later. I’m kind of hungry now. What do you say?”

  “I…I am kind of peckish, now that you mention it,” she says, flashing those pearly white teeth for just a second. It’s enough to make my heart soar. “Do they have custard?”

  “Yes! Some of the best around!”

  “Okay, sure. Let’s have dessert before dinner for a change…why not?”

  We pull in to find ice cream shop empty, in the lull before the after-dinner crowd arrives.

  Marie orders a small sundae with chocolate syrup and chopped nuts while I get myself a caramel cone drizzled with butterscotch.

  The staff serve us up our order and we sit at one of their outdoor patio tables to eat. I take a big bite, devouring half the ice cream in one go.

  I swallow and then look at Marie.

  What I see makes me forget everything except what she’s doing.

  Her long elegant fingers are delicately running the plastic spoon around the rim of her sundae cup, scooping some of the soft ice cream into it. Then she uses the spoon to make the same sinuous motion around the bottom edge of the chocolate sauce, letting it flow over the ice cream already in place. Finally, she touches the overflowing spoon to the chopped nuts, getting some to stick to the chocolate sauce.

  Now, she’s got a mini-replica of the sundae piled onto her spoon. She lifts it to her mouth and awww…fuck!

  My cock twitches as I watch her full lips close around the mounded spoon. Her lovely hand pulls it gracefully away from her mouth in a smooth, sensuous motion, the action pulling the soft pink flesh of her inner mouth outwards…making me instantly think of what her other set of soft pink lips might look like, if I was thrusting in and out of them.

  Jesus Christ!

  Her eyes close in ecstasy as she savors the nutty, chocolate-y mouthful.

  My cock throbs a bit more.

  “Mmmm,” she says, swallowing. Her warm dark eyes open and sparkle at me as she beams her brilliant smile straight into my heart. “I always like to savor my first taste.”

  She licks her lips and laughs softly.

  I grin back, speechless. I take another lick of my cone and she spoons up another bite of her ice cream, this time setting to it with more gusto. This doesn’t convince my dick to settle down any, and it continues to throb as she feeds herself. We consume our treats silently now, my eyes riveted on her graceful, sexy movements.

  I can hardly believe how gorgeous she is…and how much my body is aching to hold her, kiss her, devour her and yeah…drive my cock into her as hard as I can.

  Damn.

  “You are a beautiful girl, Marie,” I say after a while, shaking my head. “You look delicious eating that ice cream.”

  Her face reddens. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “You’re not too hard to look at yourself.” Her eyes flick downwards and glint mischievously. “Even if you’re about to wear that ice cream.”

  A big glob of melting ice cream drops from the cone… straight down onto my pants.

  “Ahh, crap!” I finish my cone in two bites and then scramble for a napkin.

  Marie giggles as I swipe uselessly at my pants. Then she gets up and goes to the counter of the shop.

  She returns with a cup of water and a handful of fresh napkins. “Thanks,” I say, dipping a napkin into the water. I use it to scrub at the stain on my pants, managing to get most of it off.

  But a wet spot remains.

  “Ahhh,” I growl, “now I look like I’ve pissed myself.” I sigh, looking at her sheepishly.

  She throws her head back and lets out a single peal of laughter. It’s throaty, feminine, smooth and infectious, making me chuckle too.

  “It’ll dry soon,” she says. “But, if you wanna go home and change, that’d be okay with me.”

  “Nah. It won’t matter where we’re going. There won’t be a lot of other people there anyway.”

  “Oh?” Her voice is bright and curious, her eyes dancing. “And where exactly is that again?”

  “You’ll see very shortly,” I say, wiping my hands and mouth with a damp napkin. Finished her sundae, she follows suit, smiling at me impishly.

  I stand up and hold my hand out to her. “I dare you to be seen holding the hand of a guy with a big wet spot on his crotch.”

  Laughing, she takes my hand and squeezes it tight. Swing our hands together, we walk back to the truck.

  We joke about wet crotches and spilled wine on clean blouses and other embarrassing mishaps until I turn down the long driveway leading to my friend Freddy’s place.

  Located just outside Grove City, Freddy’s fifty acre property boasts, among other things, a motocross track custom built by me and Freddy, with the help of his boss, Mason. Mason’s business is robotics, building software and hardware in an industry that apparently pays them well enough to indulge in some damned expensive hobbies.

  We pull into the dusty dooryard in front of Freddy’s house, a rambling old farmhouse, seemingly always in a state of renovation. I notice the house now has new windows and shutters, still sporting the manufacturer’s stickers.

  Before we can even get out of the truck, Freddy comes out of the front door, waving.

  Gilda, his enormous brindle Mastiff, follows closely behind him.

  “Hey Mark! How they hangin’ brah?” Sticking out like an orange brillo pad under an old Yankees baseball cap, Freddy’s frizzy red hair flares in the afternoon sunlight, so bright it almost looks aflame. His eyes drift downwards to the wet spot on my crotch and widen.

  A wicked grin crosses his freckled face. “You, ah…need to use the little boys’ room? Borrow a pair of pants?”

  “No, you asshole.” I laugh. “I dropped some ice cream.”

  “Oh, ain’t you smooth!” He cackles annoyingly.

  “Yeah. Shut it, Red, unless you want me to shut it for ya,” I say, good-naturedly. He puts his hands in his pockets and laughs.

  The big dog waggles her way to my side. “Hey Gilda…hey girl,” I croon. Ears back, her entire body gyrating with joy, the Mastiff shoves her face into my hand and gently grasps my fingers between her teeth, something she’s done since she was a pup.

  Marie climbs down out of the truck and comes around to stand by my side.

  “Hi there! What a fantastic dog!” Her exclamation makes Freddy’s face light up, his grin showing the gap between his big front teeth. “What’s her name?”

  Gilda lets go of my hand and, still wriggling with joy, turns to the newcomer.

  Looking up into Marie’s face now, panting and smiling her happy dog smile, the big canine takes Marie’s hand between her teeth to extend the same greeting.

  I open my mouth to reassure my date, but Freddy quickly pre-empts me.

  “Don’t worry, she won’t hurt ya,” he says quickly. “Her name’s Gilda. She just grabs people like that as a greeting.”

  “Oh, it’s cool,” Marie replies, using her other hand to stroke the dog’s wide, solid head. “I love dogs.” She delivers a satisfying scratch to the thick fur at the dog’s ruff. “Hey, girl…who’s a good girl,” she murmurs, her voice butter-y smooth. That voice…so unique and so seductive…it’s like I can feel it massaging its way down my spine or something. “Yeah, you’re a good girl, arent’cha?,” Marie continues speaking affectionately to the dog.

  Gilda, still holding Marie’s hand, turns her square, muscular body so that she’s leaning against Marie’s legs now, demonstrating her total acceptance.

  Fred’s squinting at them, amused. “Fair warning, she’ll slobber all over you. Ladies don’t usually like that too much,” he adds.

  “Pshaw,” Marie says, earning another of Freddy’s gap-toothed grins. “My friend Brenda’s boyfriend has a…oh! Well, you probably know Mark’s brother Rob?”

  “We’re well acquainted, yup,” Freddy says.

  “Well, his dog Tiny…the Rottie..? He’s my
buddy. We wrestle every chance we get. I’m Marie, by the way.” She flashes him her smile and holds her free hand out to him.

  I’m not surprised to see how her smile hits him right between the eyes, making his own smile wider and even more delighted.

  “I’m Frederick. But everyone calls me Freddy. Nice to meet you, Marie.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.”

  Gilda releases Marie’s hand. Marie unselfconsciously flicks some frothy slobber from her fingers and then wipes her hand across the leg of her jeans.

  Freddy chuckles. “I’ve got wet wipes stashed all over this place for just such an occasion. There’s some in the barn where I keep the vehicles, too.”

  “So, um, where’s Darlene?” I ask.

  “Oh! She might not make it tonight. She’s not feeling well. She said she’d call and let me know.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “She gets hay fever pretty bad. The fields around here set her off sometimes. But we don’t have to wait for her or anything.”

  “Okay, cool. Let’s get the festivities happening. I want to show you what I’ve got lined up for you, babe,” I say, looking down at Marie.

  She looks up at me quickly from beneath her eyelashes, her bow-shaped lips curling up.

  God, she’s beautiful!

  I can barely take my eyes off of her as we follow Freddy and the dog to the barn.

  Chapter Eight

  Marie

  Dying of curiosity now, I let Mark lead me across the yard. What are we going to be doing? Not milking cows, I hope.

  But I don’t smell any manure or see any other signs of a working farm, which makes my curiosity even more intense.

  What the heck is this place?

  Freddy’s barn, clad with the usual barn-board framing, is silvery with age and massive, far bigger than the one on my parents’ property.

  The flame-haired man takes hold of the handle on one of the wide barn doors and, with a grunt, pulls it all the way open. The door creaks and groans as it slides along the track, coming to a stop with a solid thunk.

  Mark and I follow Freddy inside, through a low-ceilinged, dimly-lit area that holds a long row of unused animal stalls on either side. I recognize that the low ceiling is actually the floor of the hayloft above. In this area, I can now smell the ghosts of horses and cows from the past. It’s just the merest whiff of manure, faint and aged but still carrying enough punch to allow no doubt that this was once a working farm.

  We emerge, squinting, from the stall corridor into a much larger, open area at the back. It’s very bright back here, full of the golden light of the late-day sun, streaming in through two wide sliding doors which are standing open to the outside.

  And there, surrounded by shimmering motes of hay-dust, sit two beat-up looking dune buggies with cartoonishly huge tires.

  I gasp and clasp my hands to my chest. Mark and Freddy are both looking at me, smiling expectantly.

  Glancing from one to the other, then back at the dune buggies, I can’t keep the smile off own my face. “Oh, wow! I…Freddy…did Mark tell you that we used to have these when we were kids?”

  “He might have mentioned something, yeah.” The two men look at each other, grins growing wider, and then they look back at me.

  “C’mere,” Mark says. “Check this out.”

  Taking my hand again, he leads me through the open back doors into the dazzling golden sun. Shading my eyes with my hand reveals that the barn sits at the crest of a hill. The land behind the structure dips into a wide valley that leads away from the barn, as far as the eye can see.

  It’s a lovely vista of rolling farmland and pasture that can’t be properly seen unless you’re standing on this side of the barn.

  And…directly ahead, tucked into the valley, is a broad, race track made of dirt, the kind in use at motocross and other dirt-racing events.

  I can hardly believe my eyes! It looks like a really nice track, properly groomed and well-constructed with plenty of thought and consideration.

  There are straight-aways and steep hills for doing air-grabbing stunts. There are hairpin turns and zig-zags and even an oval area that can be closed off to use for laps.

  Big tires from tractors and bales of hay line every inch of the track for crash padding.

  There’s even a little set of bleachers set back from the track at the far end. At the near end, there’s a marshal’s platform with a couple of seats and a holder from which various-colored racing flags protrude.

  “Holy Mother of Motorcross!” I shout, making both men guffaw. “This is fantastic!”

  “Not bad, huh?” Freddy says.

  “Not bad? This is…I mean, wow! Wow! This looks like a professional set-up!”

  “It’s as close as we could make it,” Mark says. “Freddy and me built this as soon as he bought this place. This was like, our dream back in high school. So…you like it, huh?”

  “Like it? I think it’s awesome!” I bounce on the balls of my feet excitedly, unable to restrain myself. “Awesome! I can’t believe…I mean, this is like, the best first date EVER!”

  Turning to each other, Mark and Freddy lift their fists in triumph. “She likes it! Yessss! Score!” Mark yells, and Freddy, laughing, holds his hand up. Mark slams a high-five into it and then they jump up and chest-bump each other joyfully.

  Giggling at their shenanigans, I start to say thank you, but Mark steps forward, puts an arm around my waist and pulls me towards him in a fierce hug.

  For the first time, I feel the immense strength he possesses. It makes me go all still and melty, while my heart feel like it grew about a thousand times in my chest.

  I lean into him happily, hugging him back, and say thank you against his neck, my nose squished and my voice muffled. But I don’t care.

  Arms around his shoulders, I’m aware of how hard his body is, how well-sculpted and solid he feels…and how his muscles move under his skin, seeming to thrum with excitement and power.

  Again I’m struck with an electric, animal attraction. An image flashes through my mind…my legs wrapped around his waist, his cock buried inside me… and, for a moment, I’m stunned by a bright, intense lust.

  Stunned by my own good fortune, I can’t believe how lucky I am that this handsome, sexy, giant of a man seems to like me so much.

  “So, what do you say?” He’s looking down at me, smiling, eyes shining with fun. “You wanna go for a spin?”

  “I just finished spraying the track, so hopefully you won’t get too dirty,” Freddy says.

  “Yes, please! I mean, yes please, could we go for a spin? Right now, I mean?”

  “Yeah, we’re doing it right now!” Mark pulls me towards the vehicles.

  “Oh my God this is so awesome!!” I’m babbling, but I don’t even care. This is the nicest, most different first date ever!

  “Yeah? I’m so glad you like it! I wasn’t sure you’d…y’know, because you already do a lot of driving, but…yeah! When you told me about your childhood dune-buggy capers, I thought I had a chance to score some major points.”

  I look up at his face, marveling again at how handsome he is, delighting in all the warm, fuzzy, sexy feelings coursing through my body.

  Freddy explains that he’ll be seated on the flagman’s platform while we tool around, just to watch and lend a hand in case something goes wrong. It’s not very likely that anything bad will happen, given that we’re both skilled drivers. And even if we weren’t, the vehicles are equipped with roll-bars and safety harnesses along with the huge tires and state-of-the-art suspensions.

  I can’t wait to get out there and start roaring around that fantastic track!

  Mark hands me a pair of goggles and helps me adjust the strap so they fit snugly over my eyes. Next, a helmet, which he also helps fasten under my chin.

  Then, he helps me climb into the seat of the dune buggy. I smile up into his face as he leans over me, his big hands fussing w
ith the harness, making sure it fits properly. His fingers brush against me here and there, and every touch produces a sensation like fizzing in my skin.

  I’ve never experienced anything like it.

  Satisfied with his work, he looks at me seriously, and takes a breath as if he’s about to say something. Instead, he leans forward and plants a quick but solid kiss right on my lips, leaving me breathless.

  “For good luck,” he says.

  Donning his own headgear, he climbs into his own buggy and straps himself in.

  The engine on the dune buggy purrs smooth as silk. I rev it a little, just to see how it feels. Being as light as a feather, these vehicles don’t require a lot of horsepower, but, just by touching the gas to move it out of the barn, I can tell this baby has more than enough juice.

  As usual, as soon as my hands grasp the wheel, a kind of a falling-away starts happening in my head. My thoughts start vanishing, replaced by a sense of peace and quietude. Any nervousness or anxiety or fear or uneasiness just disappears, leaving my head clear and my mind focused.

  I’m slipping into the Zone. There’s something about being in control of something so powerful…the roar of the engine and the way the tires feel on the road, maybe. That, plus the need to be focused and fully present in order to operate the vehicle safely.

  All I know for sure is, it’s a very welcome feeling.

  I hear the rumble of the other buggy engine starting up and glance over to see Mark looking straight at me. Mock-seriously, I raise an eyebrow and incline my head at him. He returns the gesture, but I see the corners of his lips quirk upwards.

  Freddy appears in front of my buggy and gives me a thumbs up. I flash one back, then he stands back and waves towards the track.

  Looking at Mark again, I see him lift a hand and gesture for me to go first. I move my buggy slowly towards the line and stop in front of it, leaving room for Mark to pull up next to me.

  He does.

  No one said we were racing each other, exactly, but the way we’re now nose and nose at the starting line is giving me ideas.

  Just one little race. A teeny one.

  A quickie.