Midnight Ride

© 2001 by E.Y. Cain

 
I wasn’t really sure how it happened, but I was finally riding by myself.
I’d just gone out and bought a brand new Sportster. It was a honey of a
bike, chopped all to hell, purple pearl paint job, black leather seat,
purple suede saddlebags. My first bike and it was paid for.

I was free, but the cost of that freedom was way too high. My bike, bought
and paid for by Jamie’s insurance money, was a costly gift from beyond the
grave.

It was so sweet to be out on the highway, midnight in midsummer, the heat
from the blacktop finally easing and all by myself. I had my headphones
on, listening to some Stevie Ray, there wasn’t a car coming at me for
miles and miles and I didn’t have to be back at work until I decided to go
back. I wanted to wander as far as I felt like, camp when I wanted, and
let the highway, and the days roll away under the thunder of the motor and
through the slash of the wind. Maybe that would ease some of my pain.

I’d left that afternoon, not telling anyone but my nosy neighbor, Ellie
Fishbourne, what I was going to do. She promised to keep an eye on my
place and have her grandson mow the yard so it’d look like I was still
home. I wanted to get away, far away, so I could think without all the
clutter of my life intruding on me. I had some decisions to make.

My mind had eased, my spirits were starting to rebound, and I noticed the
vibration of the bike between my thighs. It’d been a long time, both since
I’d been on a bike and since I’d gotten laid, and it didn’t take much to
make me tingle all over. I noticed my nipples were rock hard under the
tube top and the denim jacket I was wearing over it.

I saw a roadside picnic spot sign and decided to pull over and give myself
a bit of a break. By that time, my pussy was wet, my knees were shaking,
and my nipples had been so hard so long they ached. As I slowed down and
pulled into the roadside park, I was relieved to see they had a camp
ground, and that there was nobody there except another biker who’d pitched
a pup tent under the trees at the back. The fire was still glowing and,
combined with a gibbous moon, gave off enough light to see my way to
another clear spot a few dozen yards away.

As I pulled up to the spot I’d chosen, someone crawled out of the tent and
stood peering in my direction. After I’d shut off the motor, swung my leg
over the seat and stood to stretch, I heard a low baritone voice call
softly over the sounds of the night, “Nice night for a ride, i’n’t it?”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind sharing the park, but I needed a break.” I
took my denim jacket off and folded it over the seat, then turned to face
the man who’d spoken.

“Tango? Is that you, girl? I’ll be damned!” He hurried toward me and I
stepped around the bike, putting it between us. I was groping in my
saddlebag for the lead weighted sawed off shovel handle I kept in it for
protection as I tried to make out his features. All I could see was long
hair pulled back into a ponytail or a braid, a beard, and the moonlight
shining off his glasses. “Who’s’ there?” I know my voice was sharp and
wary.“

"‘S me, Foxtrot O’Neil. I metcha several times when you an’ Jamie…” His
voice trailed off. I guess he realized that might not be a real good line
of conversation to continue with. “I saw you last winter at the wake and
the funeral, but by the time I worked my way over you were leavin’. Honey,
I’m so sorry. Jamie was a good man.”

I relaxed as he identified himself, then that all too familiar grief
washed over me again. I really hated to waste time in cryin’, but a girl’s
gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Foxtrot was good people, I knew that both
from Jamie’s friendship with him and from my personal experience. I had
nothing to fear here tonight. FX wouldn’t let anything happen to me and
anything I said or did, like breakin’ down and cryin’ my heart out,
wouldn’t go any further. He came around the bike and wrapped his arms
around my shoulders, enfolding me in a bearhug that was so reassuring and
comforting that I couldn’t handle anything more. I broke down and the
flood of tears stormed from me.

“It’s okay, Tango, it’s okay. Let it all out, lighten the load a little, I
won’t tell. Cry all you need to, little girl, just cry it all out. Let me
help you with this, just for tonight, just for a while.” His crooning
voice washed over me like a warm summer shower, and just for a moment, I
felt safe and secure, warm and comforted. “Just hold on to me, let me help
you through this, honey. You just cry it all out. I know you’ve been
brave, but tonight you just cry as much as you need to. You’re safe here,
so just let go…” The litany went on and on as he held me tight and ran his
large, callused hand over the top of my head and down my braid.

I don’t know how long we stood there, his arms wrapped around me, my head
buried in his chest as my entire body shook with the force of my sobs. “I
thought I was over this. It’s been six months and I still find myself
breaking down once in a while. It’s been hard to go on alone, but I don’t
have any choice now, do I.” He walked me over to the fire as I poured out
my heart and my grief, and yes, even my rage at Jamie for dying, for
leaving me here with a rip in my heart that I couldn’t stitch up.

“I know you and Jamie were tight. All of us knew it, and Jamie was just
the kinda guy who’d joke about it in an amazed kinda way. He used to laugh
and say somethin’ about how he didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky as to
get you, but he wasn’t gonna do somethin’ stupid to screw it up. When he’d
tell us stories about some of the things you two would get up to, there
wasn’t one of us that didn’t envy him beyond all words. You even pissed
off some of the old ladies, mostly ‘cause their men would come home
wantin’ them to be more like you, y’know, daring and adventurous. Some of
us thought we’d like to take you away from him, but one look at the two of
you together an’ we knew it wasn’t gonna happen. You gotta watch it, babe,
some of those assholes are gonna start hittin’ on you hard, and they ain’t
gonna take no for an answer. They don’t care that you’re grieving, they
just want some of what Jamie and you had goin’ on.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s already started. That’s why I’m on the road by myself.
I didn’t want to get into a big hassle with anybody about it. I’m lonely
as hell, mad as hell and I just might have to take it out on anyone who
really wants to push it. Damn, I wish that jerk had kept his mouth shut!
Why’d he have to go mouthin’ off and braggin’ like that, FX? Couldn’t he
have just kept his trap shut?” I was crying so hard I was hiccuping and I
think he could tell I was a half a hair away from hysteria. He took a
bandanna from his hip pocket and wiped my eyes and cheeks. He handed it to
me and told me to keep it.

He sat me down on a log he’d rolled up by the fire and put a cup of coffee
in my hands. He got a bottle of jack out of his tent and motioned towards
my cup with it. After I nodded and he splashed a healthy dose into my
coffee, he set the bottle on the ground next to his battle-scarred boots
and leaned back on his elbows. “I don’t think you could reasonably expect
any man to keep his mouth shut, even if only part of what he said was
true. Hell, I don’t know that I could keep from braggin’ about it if I
coulda got Cherry to fuck me on my hog while we were blastin’ down the
highway doin’ 80 miles an hour. Hell, woman, that’s damned near every
bikers dream ride! Some of the other shit was just as wild, and just as
fantastic. I guess it’s gotta be a guy thing, but I don’t know anybody who
coulda kept it quiet. I do know you two were the envy of everyone who knew
you. You did what we all wanted to do, you lived and loved wild and
wicked, and didn’t let anything stop you. I know I had a hard time
stoppin’ my own fantasies when I got to thinkin’ about what I’d want…” His
voice trailed off and he got a dreaming kinda look on his face.

I had to know. I’d had a few impure thoughts about FX over the years.
After all, he was 6’2”, wide shoulders, lean hips, hard bellied, and had
the worlds most beautiful set of light blue eyes. I knew if I hadn’t
hooked up with Jamie first, I’d’ve latched onto him like bees onto
flowers. His hair was almost as long as mine, a deep dark sable brown,
almost black that hung almost to his waist when he didn’t have it braided.
His beard was nicely trimmed and he had a cookie duster that was nothing
short of luxurious. He made me hot just lookin’ at him, and he always had,
so I asked, “Like, what kinda fantasies are we talkin’ about here, FX?”
What can I say, I always have been too curious for my own good.

He smiled a bit, light a joint and toked deep and hard, then handed it to
me and said, “Tango, honey, I don’t want this to sound like I’m hittin’ on
ya, ‘cause I know you have enough on your plate to deal with without that,
but I had some ideas that woulda made your toes curl.”

I hit that jay hard and smiled after I exhaled and told him to keep goin’
and that I wouldn’t take it as a come on, unless I was really interested.
After all, a girl’s gotta take care of what she wants taken care of, and I
was still horny from the ride and the wind and the night. It had been six
months since I’d had a good hard ride, and I was restless, irritable, and
discontented. Mr. Buzzy just wasn’t the same as a strong hard man. That
was just one of the reasons I missed Jamie so much.

“You asked for it,” he smiled as he passed the joint back to me. “I
wondered what it would be like to have you wrap those long legs around my
waist and ride me while we rode my hog down the road at midnight, but what
I really wanted was to tie you with either hand on the bars, then eat you
until you screamed for mercy. I wanted to pose you like a centerfold on my
bike, cover you with chocolate syrup, then lick you clean. I wanted to
blindfold you, take an ostrich feather and stroke every part of you until
you whimpered for mercy, then bend you over the seat and take you to
heaven. Mostly I wanted to see how many times I could make you come before
I absolutely had to slide deep and hard into your sweet little pussy.” I
knew my mouth was open and my eyes had gotten glassy. I couldn’t help it.
He had to’ve read my mind. I checked, and yep, my toes were curled up
tight as could be.

I had to swallow several times before I could reply. “FX, I never knew.”
Weak and wimpy, I thought to myself. You sound like a wuss. He knows what
you want, you know what you want, now get off your ass and go get it,
bitch. I stood up and met him halfway. Those long, strong arms came around
me again and I knew, whatever else happened, that this was right, it was
good.

He licked my neck and hit that spot, you know, the one where your neck
meets your shoulder? I quivered and felt my nipples go rock hard. He
grazed his teeth over it and I shuddered all the way down to my curled up
toes. When he bit it, lightly but firm enough that I knew his teeth were
latched on to me, I almost collapsed. My knees went weak and I found
myself all but draped down his front. My, but it was a nice front! When he
finally got around to kissin’ me, I almost lost it right then and there. I
didn’t know who taught that man to kiss, but I owed her a debt of
gratitude. He was a magician with his tongue.

He sat me down on the log again, went to his tent and pulled out a double
sized sleeping bag. I sat there, all bemused, as he yanked his shirt off
over his head, loosened the laces on his boots and toed them off, then
stripped his jeans down to his ankles. He turned to me and held out his
hand and said, “Tango, if this is what you want, I’ll do my best by you.”
If? IF? I jumped to my feet and put my hand in his.

“I gotta tell ya, FX, I’ve had some wild dreams lately, but I sincerely
hope this isn’t one of them. I’m tired of feelin’ sad. Make it go away,
please.”

He pulled me close and stroked my back with his other hand. “I will, baby,
I’ll make it all better for a little while.” I toed off my boots,
unbuttoned and unzipped my pants and almost fell on my butt when he slid
his hand between my thighs as I bent to take off my socks. His other hand
steadied me and I tumbled to the bedroll, dizzy with desire and the
effects of the weed and the Jack. He helped me sit up, then peeled my tube
top over my head and unfastened my braid. The calluses on his fingers
caught a bit in my hair as he finger combed it out over my shoulders, and
he sighed as it stroked his chest when he leaned into my back. Those large
hands slid to my breasts as I settled into his chest, and I moaned as he
traced his fingertips around and under, spiraling inward. When his
forefinger and middle finger pinched my nipple, I almost screamed and he
bit me, again, right on that neck spot. I couldn’t help it, I gave in to
the orgasm that thundered through me.

He whispered in my ear, “That’s one.” Then he got diabolical. He used his
teeth on my neck, one hand on my breast, while the other slid down my
belly and through my short clipped curls. His calluses were slightly rough
and the contrast between them and my soft skin was astounding. I know I
whimpered, but it all seems kinda fuzzy in my memory. I know he stroked my
pussy lips and found that little spot right in the crease of my thigh,
then he found my clit. I remember him calling out something about two, and
then I really lost it. He had my clit under his thumb and at least two
fingers inside me and I was shaking uncontrollably when he did it. He hit
that G-spot.

I came totally unglued. I was coming so hard I know it was almost a
convulsion. I screamed at him not to stop, swore I’d kill him if he
stopped, begged him not to stop, and generally got my point across that I
wanted that sweet torture to continue. I lost count of the times I went
over the edge, but I came like Niagara Falls, endlessly.

Sometime later, no, I don’t know how much later, but the moon had set and
the fire was down to coals, I could feel him holding me and stroking my
hair and talking to me in a soft voice. “Tango, baby, it’s alright, I’ve
got you. I’ve got you baby, everything is okay.” I moaned and shuddered
then tried to talk, but could only rasp out the words.

“Sugar, it’s better than okay, it’s fuckin’ wonderful!” He rolled me
towards him and I let him do it, pliant and moveable as a marionette. I
cleared my throat and blinked several times as I whispered, “FX, if I’m a
very good girl, do you think we could do that again sometime, real soon?”

I felt his chest shake as laughter rumbled up. “Honey, we can do that any
time you want, and you don’t have to be especially good, either. From what
I’ve heard, when you’re good, you’re really good, but when you’re bad
you’re even better.” His smile almost blinded me as I started getting the
feeling back in the rest of my body. I could feel his cock, rock hard and
insistent, throbbing in the hollow between my thighs. Unbelievably, I
sensed my own desire rising again. As I walked my nails over his
goose-bumped skin, I made sure to scratch, lightly at first.

He raised up a bit, I shifted a bit and we slid together like we had done
this all our lives. I can’t explain it, we just fit together perfectly. I
almost sobbed when I realized how good it felt, how good he felt as we
stroked each other with our entire bodies. He seemed to know when to go
slow, when to speed up, how hard to push, how deep to drive. I was bucking
against him in no time, begging him to push me over the edge, craving to
pull him after me. I came again, then when the tremors had died down to
mere quivers, he rolled me over and pulled me to my knees.

“You know, you have the sweetest ass. Heart shaped and round, tight and
muscled. I’ve been wantin’ to take you like a dog for a long while now. Do
you like it this way?”

I moaned and bucked backwards. He must have been positioned just right
because he slid all the way in, seated deep, all the way to the hilt. He
groaned and started hammering into me, I could hear the force of his
thrusts as well as feel them. He slid his hands up my back the around to
hold my breasts, tweaking the nipples and squeezing in time to his
pounding. I could hear our bodies slapping together, feel his groin
beating into mine as I thrust back into him. I felt wild, like a bitch in
heat, and I gloried in it. I know I screamed, and I could barely hear him
chanting encouragement and then it started. That feeling that’s like a
runaway train on a downhill slope.

My body started to shake, my mind to explode. I could dimly hear my voice
climbing higher and higher, and I could feel him desperately driving as
deep as he could, and his muscles clenched as did mine and we exploded
into a flurry of bucking and quaking and clenching and thrusting and then…
the world blew up.

I remember that when I finally came back to myself, we were lying there,
spoon fashion. He was still gasping for breath and so was I. My entire
body was quivering and drenched in sweat and he wasn’t in any better shape
than I. I was warm with his arms around me, one hand loosely clasping a
breast, the other tangled in my hair. He twisted my head around and met me
halfway in a kiss, one that was as wonderful and wondering as I was. As I
lay there trying to think of what to say, how to explain how I was
feeling, he rumbled into my ear, “My god, woman, it’s a wonder we’re both
not burnt to a crisp! You caught on fire, and took me with you.”

I rolled to my back and looked him in the eye and said, with a straight
face, “I guess that means you were well done then, because that was, well
done I mean.” We both burst into laughter and relaxed, drifting off to
sleep.
 
Copyright © 2001-2002 by E.Y. Cain - All Rights Reserved This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this work are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. No part of this work may be reproduced by any means or used in any form without expressed written permission from the author.
 
Read the fourth installment of this story in September 2002
 
About The Author:
Like name of the site, I'm erratic, neurotic and erotic. I like writing smut for a living, not that I'm making much more than a pittance, but it satisfies my inner woman. I'm 42, married for 17 years, owned by two neutered male cats, both of whom consider me to be a fine mattress and wonderful scratching machine, and a bit on the scattered side, especially when I'm writing.
 
I'm childless on purpose, (with 2 cats and a husband, who needs kids?) and have far too many books for my house to hold. We're currently considering adding on another room to our house just to hold books as we've run out of shelves and walls to hang them on. I've even gone so far as to tear out the panelling in one room and nail boards between the studs to get extra shelf space.
 
I live in a house that started its life as a chicken coop, was added on to 5 times and is bursting at the seams with craft junk and books. I read, write, draw, watercolor, sew, crossstitch, embroider, weave, make jewelry, and paint glass to look like stained glass.
 
I have Fibromyalgia, which leads my DH (darling husband) to keep sharp things out of my hands or leave the room when I'm intransigent enough to play with them. I'm also a recovering alcoholic with 7 1/2 years of sobriety and a practicing paranomasiac. All in all I'm a mess waiting for a place to happen, and quite happy with that.
 
I've had works on this site and on the ERWA (Erotica Readers & Writers Association) and am currently looking for a buyer for the rest of the Ride series. Yes, Tango has many more stories to tell.
 
If you want to contact me, please feel free to email me. I love to hear what people think about my stories and I can tell you now, the answer to the most often asked question is yes, I have road tested the sex scenes to see if they are possible. They are. (sorry about the pun, but what can I say? I told you I was practicing. Sometimes I get it right! LOL!)
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