She plants both feet on the ground. “I can do it.”
Over her protests, I grasp the edge of the helmet’s open face and readjust it directly over her forehead. Then I tighten the strap. Already my heart is pounding from our close contact. So I walk around to the left side of the bike and a quirk a finger. “Come over here.”
With a scowl she does. “I can get on myself.”
“I’m sure you can but humor me.”
Again, an eye roll.
I shake my head in her direction. “Extend your right leg over the seat and then slide gently up onto it.”
She does with a slight huff.
“Put your feet on the pegs.” I point down.
“I’m not a child. I can figure it out.”
I try not to laugh because she is acting like a child. But surprisingly she does as she’s told.
“Good.” I’m trying to encourage her.
She gives me a closed mouth smile; I ignore her obnoxious gesture. “Have you ever ridden on one of these?”
“No. But how hard could it be?”
“For you, not very. It’s all a question of balance. Just stay upright and hold on.”
“Where’s your helmet?” she asks as I hop on.
“I gave it to you,” I say over my shoulder.
“You don’t have two?”
“I just bought the bike a few hours ago. I didn’t think I’d have a passenger so soon.” At that she says nothing. I can’t see her expression to tell whether she’s making a face. I put both my feet on the ground and turn my head. “Ready?”
“Are you sure you know how to drive this?” she asks nervously.
“I had one in New York. And besides, I’ve been riding dirt bikes and surfing my whole life. This is a piece of cake.”
But she stiffens when I climb onto the seat. “Hold on to me,” I tell her, as I click the kickstand up. For once she’s quiet. She says nothing as her arms wrap loosely around my chest. I grin as I jam my boot down on the throttle. “Tighter. You have to hold tighter than that.”
She clasps her hands together and I lower them. When I do, I feel her shoulders against my back. It’s something I’ve experienced with her before and this time I’m the quiet one as I ride off the few miles to West Hollywood. She moves closer as I zoom out onto the street and with her so close to me, I can’t push away the memories.
I had her naked before me sitting on the bathroom counter and I had to have her. She pulled my head to hers for a deep kiss. I circled my tongue just to taste more of her. Her lips were soft and tasted like mint. As my hands slid down her chest, her full breasts were too much to resist so I bent down and sucked on them. She still had her heels on and she ran the toe of her shoe up my thigh.
“Take those off,” I instructed.
She kicked them to the ground, pressed herself back against the counter and spread her legs apart before running her bare foot back up the same path on my leg. This time her painted blue toes curled around my hard cock and I stifled a groan. When her hands went to the same spot, she etched my erection with her fingernails. I leaned back and toed off my sneakers then shoved my jeans and boxers down in one swift movement before removing my shirt. Then I lowered my head. “You sure you want to do this?” I asked her as we both stood naked in the bathroom.
She nodded and reached her hand back down to my cock.
“Say it.” I wanted to make sure she wanted this as much as me.
“I want you to fuck me,” she breathed.
“Good, because that’s just what I’m going to do. I promise.”
She hopped off the counter and before I could ask where she thought she was going she dropped to her knees. As her hands explored what I had to offer, I gripped the counter. But when her mouth plunged around me I yelled, “Fuck!”
I heard myself groan loudly as her teeth grazed under my cockhead and her hand grabbed the base. When my throbbing dick hit the back of her throat, I forgot all about where we were and even who we were and just took what she was giving. “Oh yeah, like that, just like that,” I said to her and dropped my head back.