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From: "Nobby Nobbs" <nobby.nobbs@virgin.net>
Subject: {ASSM} RP {NobbyNobbs} "Heaven in Leather" (MF, motorbike)
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This story was first posted in November 1998 by the me under a diferent name.
Since then I has moved on with my life. I have moved in with my girlfriend,
moved to a new town, and got a new job. I feel that a change in pen name is
appropriate.
Let's face it, motorbikes are sexy. All that power throbbing between your legs.
A beautiful woman on a motorbike is even more sexy. That's what this one is all
about. Read and enjoy.
Revision 1.0
Original posted in November 1998
Comments can be sent to nobby.nobbs@virgin.net
**Disclaimer
This story is of an adult nature, ....blah, blah, blah.... intended for people
over the age of 18.... blah, blah, blah.... don't read if offended ..... blah,
blah, blah......
**Special note
I'm English not American, but still, with the bombardment of American images
that we receive in this country on TV and in films, I get confused from time to
time. It's not my fault, blame the media!!! The name Nobby Nobbs comes from the
Discworld(R) series of books by Terry Prachett.
<------------------------------------------------------------------->
Heaven In Leather
by Nobby Nobbs
© Copyright 1998 Nobby Nobbs
It was a warm spring morning and the light streamed into the room through the
crack in the curtains. I was feeling especially horny. I had woken up with a
raging hard-on after a particularly good dream which, as with most dreams, was
quickly fading as I awoke. I just to had to reach down to my cock. I wrapped
my fingers around it and began to stroke it slowly. I reached over to the
bedside table and fished a tissue out of the box. I needed a wank and it is
always best to make as little mess as possible early in the morning.
It's always good to start the day off with an orgasm, even if it is
self-induced. But if I'd thought that having an early morning wank would quell
my urges for the day, I was sadly mistaken. Young, horny and under-fucked was
the best way to describe me.
About an hour or so later I was driving along the dual carriageway, heading for
work, when a sleek black Suzuki motorbike overtook me. I have always had a
fascination with motorbikes, and this was a fine machine, but what caught my eye
was the long blonde hair flying from underneath the helmet of the rider.
Instead of black leather, the rider was dressed from head to foot in red. The
one piece suit hugged the slim figure of the rider, leaving me in no doubt this
was a female rider. As she sat atop of the bike, pulling away from me, I
unconsciously pushed down a little firmer on the accelerator and began to tail
her down the road, thankful that the traffic was quite light in this part of
town.
I am normally quite careful on the road, but there was something about that
vision in red atop that bike that had me driving like Schumacher. Unfortunately
my little Citroen was no Ferrari, but driving like this was still an adrenaline
rush and I started to get horny again as my levels of testosterone raised.
I lost her as the traffic began get heavy and with her bike she was able to
weave in and out among the cars.
"Damn." I thought.
I didn't have a clue what I would have done if I caught up with her, but my cock
had a good idea.
All morning at work I couldn't get the thought of that woman on the Suzuki out
of my head and I was troubled by an annoying erection. Eventually had to beat
off in the bog. I would have preferred to satisfy my needs with one of the
girls working on the checkouts, but even if I had the authority to get them a
few minuets break, I doubted any of them would have obliged me. As I was locked
in the cubicle, cock in hand, I was hoping nobody would come in and catch me. I
didn't know how long it was going to take me to come, having already done so
once that day. In fact I shot off really quickly, and powerful, healthy squirts
they were, too. It seemed that my gonads had a touch of spring fever.
At lunchtime I had to go to the bank to pay a couple of bills. The girl who
served me had long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. I stared closely at her
while she processed my documents.
"I wonder?" I thought.
She finished up and I thanked her and bid her good day. I walked out of the
bank and surveyed the street. Nothing. I began walking back to the
Supermarket, which took me past the car park at the side of the bank. Sure
enough, there was a sleek black Suzuki parked in one of the spaces reserved for
employees of the bank. I stopped and read the number plate. I couldn't be sure
be I thought it was the same as the bike that had sped past me that morning. I
re-entered the bank and queued up all over again.
When I got to the front of the queue, the girl I wanted to talk to wasn't the
next available cashier, and I had to let three people past me before she was.
"Hello again." she said pleasantly, "Forget something?"
"Oh, No." I said, " I was just wondering.. Do you have a Suzuki?"
"Yes, why? You haven't hit it, have you?" she asked, frowning.
"No, of course not, nothing like that. I just saw you on it this morning. It's
a nice bike. I'm thinking of getting one myself," I lied, "Any chance I could
meet you when you finish tonight so you could tell me a little bit about it?"
My brain was disengaged and it was my cock talking. She was looking so very
demure, in a little white fluffy jumper, its short sleeves showing off her
slender, pale, upper arms. She looked nothing like the leather queen I had seen
this morning. To my astonishment, she agreed to meet me.
My cock gave me no rest all afternoon. Checking stock levels of fish and tinned
soup is hardly stimulating, and my mind kept wandering to images of what might
happen. I had a permanent hard-on. I kept thinking of her swelling breasts
inside that soft angora sweater. I imagined her in a lacy bra, the same shade
of red as her leathers, her cleavage as soft and white as marshmallow. I
imagined her strong tanned thighs, with the throbbing engine of her bike
vibrating between them. I imagined her neatly trimmed bush under red knickers.
I imagined myself in place of her bike, thrusting into her pussy.
"You're being daft," I told myself, "What makes you think she'd want to screw
you?"
I met her just after half past five. She was already clad in those scarlet
leathers, standing by her bike, looking up and down the street for me. She
smiled when she saw me.
"Fancy a ride?" she asked, tapping the seat of her bike, "I've got a spare
helmet."
I grinned like a Cheshire cat as I took the helmet from her. She put on her own
helmet, her long blonde hair flowing from underneath it, and climbed onto the
bike. I pulled on my own helmet, slapping firmly into place on my head, and
climb up behind her.
She fired the machine into life, and I could feel its vibration between my legs.
She revved the engine a few times, and called back to me, telling me to hang on.
I could barely hear her through my helmet and over the roar of the engine. She
revved the engine some more, and as I placed my hands on her hips, she put it
into gear and we zoomed off down the street.
Riding pillion, gripping her around the waist, I wondered if she could feel the
hardness of my erection through the thick leather. The scarlet hide was molded
so tightly to her body that her arse looked like a split tomato. I longed to
stroke my hand over its shiny curves but she was driving too fast and I had to
hang on tight. It was strange, feeling so out of control. Usually I was the
driver. I felt as if my fate had been taken out of my hands as I clung to the
warm leather that hid her soft body.
We rocketed down the dual carriageway, weaving in and out of the cars, and
eventually turned off down a side road which led out of town. The road past
some farm fields. She stopped the bike in a gateway and took off her crash
helmet. I did the same and we began to talk about the bike.
"That's a hell of a ride." I said.
"It's not too bad," she replied, "It's nippy and it handles well, but It's not
the best bike on the market by a long shot. I've got my eye on Norton tourer,
but it's maybe out of my price range at the moment."
"Well I like it, after all I'm only a beginner on the bikes."
"Fancy a walk? It's a nice evening," she said suddenly.
The sense of role reversal was even stronger now. She was making the
suggestions, not me. But then, with my cock struggling inside my underpants, I
was incapable of anything except blindly following in the wake of this amazing
woman. She climbed over the gate and I followed. We stood in the middle of the
field, admiring a sunset which was as red as the leather she wore.
"Red sky at night.." I said
"Bikers delight." she finished off the sentence for me.
She turned to face me then grasped the toggle at her neck and slowly slid her
zip down, revealing an inch of flesh at a time; her collar-bone, then the full,
creamy roundness of her breasts and the crevice between them. I moved towards
her as if in a trance, my arms outstretched reaching for her hips, but she put
out a hand and stopped me in my tracks. With a sexy glint in her eyes, she
reached up and peeled the suit off her shoulders, one at a time. She took each
arm out of the suit, and let it fall to her hips. Now she stood before me,
hands on hips, naked from the waist up. Her breasts were full and round, with a
large pink nipple sitting on each on like a cherry on a fairy cake. Her arms
looked as soft and slender as they had done earlier that day under her fluffy
sweater. Then she pulled the zip further. The leather parted in folds around
her slim waist. Her smooth, curvy hips emerged, her soft belly, then a curly
wisp of pubic hair. She was stark naked beneath her biking suit. She looked
like a snake shedding its scarlet skin. She stood now with the suit around her
ankles, her succulent figure silhouetted against the setting sun.
Finally, she undid the ankle zips and stepped right out of the leather suit, her
pale skin bathed in the last pink glow of the sunset. I stood there immobile
except for the twitching of my cock inside my kegs. I was paralysed, I didn't
know what she wanted me to do. She solved my dilemma by coming over to me and
undoing the buttons of my shirt. She continued to remove my clothes until I,
too, was stark bollock naked in the middle of this field.
She took hold of my cock and led me towards the gate by it like a puppy dog on a
leash. She unfastened the gate and led me towards the bike. She climbed
astride it, naked, her long blonde hair hung in coils over her shoulders, like
Lady Godiva on a motorbike. Then motioned for me to get on too, patting the
pillion seat behind her. I hesitated, but this women was in total control. I
would do anything she wanted. Hypnotised, I climbed onto the bike myself.
"Naked biking! Ever tried it?" she yelled over her shoulder, as she gunned the
machine into life.
I took hold of her glorious hips as she skidded the bike around and raced
through the open gate into the field. My cock was jabbing against her soft
bottom as I hugged her smooth, warm waist. Then my hands grew bolder and slid
up her body to hold her tits as we roared around the field, the Suzuki jolting
over stones and lumpy ground. It was exhilarating, wild, crazy and the most
kinky, erotic thing I'd ever done. My cock was dripping precum, my balls fit to
burst. I'd never felt hornier.
After a couple of laps of the field she hit the brakes and brought the bike to a
shuddering halt. She kicked the stand into place and I dismounted as she leaned
back against the black leather pillion seat.
"Fuck me," she said, a dreamy smile on her face, her nipples standing stiff in
the evening breeze.
The wet patch on the bike's leather seat testified that she was as turned on as
I. This time I mounted both the bike and her, guiding my throbbing prick into
her slick, wet slot. She put her legs either side of me and propped them on the
handlebars. She threw her head back so that her hair dangled down by the back
wheel. Reaching behind her to use the bike for leverage, she arched her bum off
the seat to meet my thrusts as I pounded into her. I fucked her hard and fast,
and she moaned with what I assumed was pleasure. I was more turned on than I had
ever been, and despite my efforts that morning, I felt my knob expand and knew I
was going cum.
"I'm gonna cum." I said, almost at the point of no return, "Are you safe?"
"No, shoot it over me," she ordered, "Shoot it over my tits."
I just had time to whip out my cock before spraying her with great, arcing
streams of cum. I tried to aim so that each squirt hit a different tit, but the
angle of her body meant that it all ended up in the same place anyway. Rivers
of cum flowed down her tits, and came to rest on her stomach, forming a pool in
her navel.
By now the full moon was high in the sky. It glimmered on the silvery pool of
cum in her navel, on the river running down her cleavage, on the droplets
dripping from her nipples.
As I got my breath back I climbed down off the bike, and looked around for my
clothes. I couldn't find them. She had had the forethought to leave her suit
on the gate, but my clothes were still in the center of the field where she had
disrobed me. While I was searching in the moonlight, she clambered back into
that red leather suit without even stopping to wipe the cum off herself first.
She climbed back on the bike and called out to me.
"You've been in the red, and you obviously know all about withdrawal and
deposit," she said. "Now try to get back in the black."
And that bitch in red leather roared off into the darkness, leaving me stranded.
<------------------------------------------------------------------->
**Copyright Notice
This work is Copyright 1998 Mark G. Everitt. You may keep a copy in a personal
archive, electronic or otherwise, as long as it is for personal use only
(Personal being you and friends/family/partner, but not the general public).
Feel free to repost in the newsgroup you found it or any other appropriate
newsgroup, but I would appreciate an e-mail telling me you have reposted :->
This story should not, under any circumstances be used to make a profit by
anyone other than the author and copyright holder.
This story may or may not be based on actual events, real or otherwise. The
names of the people and places involved may or may not have been changed to
protect the innocent and/or guilty. It may or may not be based on material that
the author has or has not read, seen, or otherwise experienced, in the past,
present and/or future. Any similarity between actual people and/or places, real
or otherwise, is probably coincidental, but on the other hand....
----------------------------------------------------
Until an unfortunate axe incident, Gloria had been captain of the school
basketball team.
-- (Terry Pratchett, Soul Music)
----------------------------------------------------
nobby.nobbs@virgin.net
http://members.tripod.com/~e_space/index2.html
--
If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments
are their only payment. Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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