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“Happy Valentine’s Day Jack,” I cooed as I rolled out of bed, “Time to rise and shine!”
Jack, my 5 year old basset hound, lifted his head, yawned at me, without opening his eyes, and laid his head back down on my pillow. I reached over to grab a treat to bribe him out of bed with, as I pulled my dark blonde hair out of its night time ponytail. I shook my hair out, loving the way it brushed across my face, while I pushed Jack out the back door.
I started peeling off my sleepwear — the oh so sexy Ramones t-shirt of my high school boyfriend, and the green velvet boy shorts from my most recent grown up boyfriend. Shane might have had good taste in panties, but horrible taste in shoes. I have no patience for men with bad shoes — Teva? Really? — So that relationship didn’t last long.
As I stepped in the shower and began to lather up, my fingers brushed up against my lower lips. Feeling the thick juices left from my passionate night of self induced nipple pulling, clit flicking and finger fucking of the evening before, I sighed as my fingers began to probe deeper. Pressing my left hand up against the wall of the shower to support myself, I could feel my nipples begin to tighten, wishing I had an extra hand to play with the heavy ache in my breasts. With another sigh, I gave myself a few more good thrusts with my fingers and resolved myself to another Valentine’s Day of red hearts, pink cupids, and me, myself, and I.
I stepped out of the shower, quickly toweling off my body and then twisting up my sopping hair. Loving the rush of possibly getting caught, I walked naked over to the back door to let Jack in, then headed over to my dresser to get ready for the day.
In spirit of the holiday, I slipped my pale legs into pair of soft pink lace panties and matching bra. What God failed to give me at birth, Wonderbra was able to provide years later. I slipped on my favorite pair of bootcut jeans, and pulled a black tissue weight tee over my head. Finally on went my black boots. At 5′ 3″, these boots were not just to make my legs longer, but to allow me to stand my cruiser. At 33, I had no desire to ride the sportbikes anymore, however if given the opportunity, I’d take ANY kind of ride on a Hyabusa.
I quickly dried my hair and threw on my jacket. After slipping my head into my helmet, I strode out to my bike and gave it a few loving caresses before throwing my leg over. I gave the throttle a few good yanks and then made my way out to the windy Texas country roads near my home. Now to anyone looking at me, there is no question as to my sex. My helmet is pink, my jacket is pink, but hey, don’t think I don’t have a biker’s tough side. There are the smoke breathing dragons on my helmet!
I lifted my face plate and relished the breeze on my face and the vibrations between my thighs. I kicked my speed up a notch and pushed myself deeper into the seat hoping to get myself at just the right angle. Humming on a high, I pulled over to my favorite café and hopped off my bike to stretch my legs. I pulled my helmet off and shook out my hair.
After, combing out the kinks, I entered the store and headed up to the bakery counter to buy myself a Valentine’s Day sweet.
“See anything you like?” there came a soft purr in my ear.
Taken aback, I turned toward the voice but couldn’t see who the baritone belonged to, so I headed up to pay for my heart shaped brownie for two. (It’s a pity that Jack can’t have chocolate), and the voice came again, this time with a heavy weight against my back.
“No strawberries and whipped cream?” cooed the deep voice against my neck.
Now that wasn’t fair! I stood frozen in place for a minute until the lady at the register leaned my direction and said sharply, “Miss? It’s your turn!”
I felt a blush creep across my face as I stepped up to the register, glancing around quickly to apologize t those around me. I saw a pair of black Chucks walking away from me as I struggled to regain my composure. I juggled my helmet, backpack, and brownie, grabbing everything into one big pile. I scanned the inside of the café for Mr. Sexy Shoes. Not seeing him, I dashed out to the patio trying to look cool and collected while trying to avoid mashing my brownie into my helmet. I took a seat in the corner of the patio and surreptitiously started checking bursa escort out the shoes around me.
Hm… Cole Haan’s, nice shoes, but he was not my guy. Ohh, there’s a pair of Chucks. Glancing upwards, putting a smile on my face, trying out a new sexy pout mouth, I lifted my eyes to find myself staring at a 13 year old boy. I start to choke and dropped my head to get a slug of water. ‘Please, oh please God, let it not be the prepubescent boy with great taste in footwear!’
I continued a quick glance through the rest of the shoes, not find any other Chucks. I started packing up my bag for the ride home, and with a sigh of relief, watched the 13 year old head off to a mini van with his family. I began to pull on my helmet and just as it reached my ears, I felt a pair of strong hands on top of mine, stopping the progress.
“Leaving so soon?” I heard, no, felt, as the statement came with a quick nip of my earlobe. “I had plans for us… You deserve the romance that comes with today.”
As I listened to that voice again, I could feel my nipples begin to press against the thin material of my shirt. My heart raced as the stranger finished pushing the helmet down onto my head. His hands did not stop however, and he continued downward with his arms wrapped around me.
“Nice,” he murmured against my neck, as he caught my nipple ring between his thumb and index finger with a gentle tug.
I gasped as I finally acknowledged the dampness beginning to spread between my legs. He finally let go after tweaking my other nipple.
“I didn’t want it to feel left out,” he said and cupped my mound through my jeans.
I turned around to find he already had his back to me and was putting on his own helmet. I felt the heat rise between my thighs and shook my head to regain my senses.
“Oh no,” I said. “You’re not coming with me!”
He turned and I took in his long lanky figure, he looked strong and sexy in his leather jacket, and black converse. I looked to his face and into his … He was wearing a mirrored face plate. I couldn’t see his eyes!
“You’re right, I’m not. You’re going to follow me,” he growled as he nodded to his Ducati Sportbike.
Curiosity got the better of me and I scrambled onto my bike wanting to rip of my companion’s helmet to see his face, kiss his lips, and grasp his hardness right there behind the café.
I followed the Ducati out onto the country road but my Vulcan 900 just didn’t have what it took to overcome the other bike and I resigned myself to either riding along side, or behind the masked man. I watched as my suitor slowed and turned off the road. I followed him and felt a lump in my throat as I saw a soft looking blanket laid out in the distance. As I lifted myself off my bike, a printed note was pressed into my hands.
“Happy Valentine’s Day. Love, Your Secret Admirer”
I looked up quizzically and the only response I got was “Take off your helmet, jacket, and gloves.”
After having removed my helmet, I was torn between trying to do a sensuous striptease, or stay clothed against the slight chill in the air. I guess I took too long to make up my mind because my consort made the decision for me by slowly lowering me to the blanket with his hands on my shoulders.
“Please do as I say,” he asked as he rose to remove some items from his saddlebags.
I removed my glove and jacket and felt my nipples pebble as the cold air hit my skin through the thin shirt.
The man with the voice returned and I sucked in a sharp breath as I saw the dark material in his hands. As he reached toward my face, I reached out my hands.
“Please,” I murmured. “Please let me see your face first.”
He continued moving forward tying the material behind my head with a tight knot.
“Then I wouldn’t be a secret now would I?” he breathed heavily into my ear.
The next thing I knew he was no longer against me and silence filled the air. Panic began to creep up my spine just as I felt his rough cheek against mine, his head tilting toward me, and the soft heat of his tongue as it licked the outline of my ear.
“Give me a minute beautiful and I’ll be right back with you,” he whispered.
I waited for what seemed to be hours, but was more like two minutes.
“Relax,” he said as his hands encircled bursa escort bayan my waist. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I nodded cautiously.
“I’m going to celebrate you,” and with that statement, he pushed my legs open, lifted me up and into his lap facing him.
I could feel him thrumming between us. The heat we were generating keeping me warm. I felt his hand slip up under my shirt caressing my curves, then moving up, flattening my breasts. I started to relax into the sensations as I then felt him grab my bottom lip between his teeth and slowly teasingly, run his tongue along it. I slipped my tongue from its warmth and tasted the salt on his upper lip which he seemed to really like, as he took the opportunity to fill my mouth with his tongue, stroking, teasing, making me ache, wanting him to fill all other areas of my body. I felt his hands expertly unhook my bra and tweak my nipples which just became harder at the additional attention.
I felt his lips break away from mine as he kissed along my jaw line; licking and sucking down my neck. He had my shirt half way off before I realized what he was doing.
“Arms up,” he ordered.
I complied; feeling the soft material against my skin as he carefully maneuvered it over the blindfold. H slipped my bra over my shoulders and I pulled myself against him as a cool breeze caressed my naked flesh. He pushed me away slightly and ran a finger down the length of my body.
“No, let me look at you.”
I felt the heat of embarrassment cover my body and then I felt the warmth of his lips against my collarbone as he pulled me close to him again. I pushed my hands under his shirt and ran my fingers over the tautness of his belly, feeling him quiver with the strokes. I started to pull his shirt upwards, and he paused his activities to grab my hands.
“Not yet. Now please behave, I don’t want to have to tie up your hands also.”
The thought of being bound and defenseless brought a new wave of throbbing to my clit, but I was enjoying touching him too much.
“I’ll behave,” I whispered, with my head lowered.
He lifted my head as he began to kiss me again, splaying his large hands over my back. I placed my hands back under his shirt, “accidentally” rubbing my thumb over the tip of him poking out from above his jeans.
“Ooh,” he moaned and quickly lifted me off of his lap.
“Do you want this to be over all ready?” he growled at me.
“No,” I shook my head.
I felt soft material bind my wrists together as I moaned.
“I warned you!” he breathed against my breast where he had resumed his exploring.
I pressed myself hard to the ground unable to resist the fire in my core any longer. My admirer noticed my grinding and swiftly reached down to unzip my jeans. I felt his fingers slip into my panties as I raised myself up slightly to give him easier access.
I heard a chuckle from deep in his throat.
“Anxious aren’t we?”
I nodded as I felt him slip one finger between my lips and groan at the wetness he felt there. He slipped his finger back up over my tender nub and then used that finger to draw lazy circles around my areolas. I heard my breathing start to grow ragged when he slowed for a minute and said, “Slow down, drink this,” as he raised a glass to my lips.
“To your beauty of body and soul,” he said.
I could feel the bubbles tickling my nose and smell the fermented grapes as he slowly tilted the glass for me to take a sip.
He removed the glass and the next thing I knew I felt the cold bubbly liquid being poured carefully onto my collarbone. As it began to overflow, the coolness dripped down my breast, making my nipple tighten with the sensation. My admirer ducked his head to get his drink from my neck and continued to follow the path of the spill with this tongue.
“Now for something sweet,” he held something up to my lips and I slowly stuck out my tongue to taste whipped cream against the hardness of a strawberry. I could smell myself as well on his fingers so I took his fingertips into my mouth with a sharp suck along with the small strawberry.
“Yum,” I purred which I guess was more than he could take.
He reached behind me and undid my wrist bindings. As I reached for him, however, he grabbed my wrists in front of escort bursa me, wrapping them with the binding again. I groaned as he captured my nipple ring in his teeth and pulled. My hands reached out for anything they could touch, finding nothing. I finally felt my feet being lifted and my boots and socks being removed. I felt a gentle kiss on each instep before feeling those strong hands grasping the waistband of my jeans, pulling them off, and toppling me backwards into- a scream caught in my throat – something soft and fragrant?
Again, I heard that voice in my ear “Rose petals,” he explained, picking one up and proceeding to rub its velvet over one nipple then the other.
I now felt skin against mine; hairy muscled legs pressed along side mine his boxed covered hip, bearing against my naked one. Again I reached out, but just barely grazed the top of his leg with my fingers. I felt the rose petal be replaced with his mouth, his tongue swirling patterns of Kadinsky across the canvas of my body. I began to writhe under his movements moving my hands upward to my lips, seeking relief from this torment.
“No,” he said again, as he replaced my hand with his.
His hand moved my panties aside as I felt first one finger, then two gently enter me, slowly he thrust his fingers in and out, every now and then rubbing his thumb up and over my clit.
I bucked against his hand.
“Please,” I begged.
“More!” I gasped.
“Harder… Faster,” I panted.
I felt his smile against my stomach and he stopped. Slowly, I felt my panties being lowered down my legs and tight male muscles settled between my legs. I felt three fingers slam into me thrusting harder and faster than before.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked me, continuing the torment between my legs.
I felt the roar in my ears as the orgasm began to course through my body. And then as suddenly as it began, it stopped. He had removed his fingers, and then I heard his voice again “Or is this?” and I felt his tongue flick over my clit.
I felt his mouth licking, and biting my lips, thrusting deep, then returned to shower attention on my bundle of nerves. The orgasm that had been so rudely interrupted before came crashing back. I convulsed as my motorcycle man continues his ministrations on my body and finally needed him inside me. I pulled on his hair until he understood I wanted his attention.
“You in me now!” my voice croaked between spasms.
“But this is all just for you,” he protested, continuing the thrust of his fingers.
“Seriously, NOW!” I demanded loudly.
It only took a brief pause and I felt his tip press cautiously against my entrance.
“Please!” I begged again.
I felt the bindings around my wrists release and I reached out to touch him, to stroke him. I felt his first thrust fill me as I gasped for air.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, tightening my grip on his back.
I felt his fingers brush a lock of hair back from my face as his thrusts intensified.
“I won’t,” he grunted. “Anything you want.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer; he dipped his head and began suckling my breast, looped his tongue through my ring. He grabbed my other nipple rolling and pinching. When I felt his teeth clamp down and tug that was the end of me. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through me. It seemed as though my contractions were all he needed as I felt the last thrust and then tremors.
I reached up to take off the blindfold and he stopped my hand, “No, please don’t.”
I grudgingly conceded as I felt him pull my panties back on me, and then my jeans. My socks and boots were next. He placed a soft kiss on each breast before lowering my shirt back over my head
“Almost done,” he said with a kiss on my lips.
I could hear him shuffling around for a few minutes more, and then finally those magnificent hands reached around me to untie my blindfold. I blinked a few times adjusting to the light and looked into the eyes of… myself.
He’d put his helmet back on and was offering me a hand up which I gratefully accepted.
I stood there as he walked over to his bike, flashed my bra at me.
“I’ll be keeping this,” he said, “Until next time.”
He then turned, got on his bike, and sped away.
I chucked to myself as I got my own coat and gloves on. Staring at the retreating motorcycle that I’d followed here, the motorcycle I’d been following for months; the motorcycle with the personalized license plate that read “SHANE”.
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