("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- Copyright 1998 (c) This is an original work of fiction which contains some adult sexual situations. If that sort of thing squicks you, trash now. Free to archive with attribution. -------------------------------------------------------- Auto-Erotic - Harley by SR (parasol_60@yahoo.com) *** The dull throbbing ache of his meat, coiled and animal- soft against the back of her knuckles. Twining her fingertips into the long kinky hairs, seeking the root. Two fingers split, the first and middle fingers slid around the root of his shaft, seeking the soft crinkly flesh of his balls, warm hard knots like textured golf- balls under her fingertips. (MF) *** Vicki. Vicki on the sidewalk. Vicki on the sidewalk with her red satin hot-pants and black leather jacket. Platform heels -- two-fucking-inch thick platforms with five-fucking-inch heels. Her calves flexed like steel tendons with each step; her tight thighs shone like molten gold. Those legs went on forever. Pulled every guy-eye in each place she passed, from the pasty-faced store-keeps to the pimple-faced shop-boys, tracking her down the street past their pleated glass storefronts. Convertible motor-boys cruised on down, fresh from the garages or a day on the lake. Slowed down for an eyeful. Eyes done up. Lips glistening like the shine on a Chevy's tailfin. Cheekbones high as some Injun warrior's. Hair piled high in a silver pin, shining and black against the pale skin of her neck. The wide shoulders of her high-gloss leathers couldn't hide the slip and slide of her shoulder blades, the sway and bounce of her chest. She walked like she owned the street -- like she owned the fucking street. Corner-girls and gum-chewing tramps scuttled out of the way, side-stepping or feigning blah- zay against the lampposts but aware, aware. Vicki's quick glance at her outstretched nails provoked spasms of jealousy, fists balled in pockets, frantic plans to visit to the Revlon counter at Wal-Mart. Vicki on the corner. Pursed lips. Red lights changed. The convertibles didn't move. Half- hearted honks from some displaced suburban yipsters out of place, out of time. Across the sidewalk, down the hill, out of an alley, down the one-way cross-street the wrong way, with a purr like a wildcat in heat. Flaming chrome and black jet, a throb in its heart for each pent-up horsepower in this one-horse town. The city center held its breath as he gunned it, one gloved finger twirling -- slowly, carefully -- the knurled knobs on the right-hand handlebar, slid to a stop. Inches from her toes. A quick nod, impassive and unfeeling behind those jet shades. Her fingertips on his hip, she slid on behind. Her legs spread, her heels came to rest on the footrests, her knees clamped on behind him and her hair pulled free, flowing suddenly behind as he jumped the curb, looped once in the still-empty crosswalk, shifted, and throttled up Main toward the distant mountains. The city let out its breath. *** Her fingertips, cool on the slick leather. Her own jacket fell open between them, her naked nipples teased maddeningly by the rough rivets, the stitching of his colors, the chrome chains draped across his back. Her nipples ached. Her breasts, surprisingly small and soft... almost a little girl's tits... except for those long, thin, protruding nipples. She pressed herself to him, sinuously rubbing, insistent and demanding. From the hard bony knobs of her collarbones, down across the tennis-ball swell of her boobs, to the tight skin over her ribs where it pressed into the small of his back. At her waist, her navel tickled with the droop of a cold silver-chrome chain. A trickle of moisture seeped the soft satin of her pants. Throbbing out of town, an easy pace; riding the yellow line. Her legs started to feel chill in the air, she flexed them, rubbing slowly against the back of his chaps. Leather on skin is sooooo... sweet. Hot, smooth. Leather on skin that screams out its vulnerability, screams "take me, hurt me." Her fingertips snaked slowly into the front of his jacket, at the level of his chest. He wore a tank-top, underneath. Thick, warm fur matted on his chest. Her fingertips twined in his chest hair, tugging at the straps of his tank top, pulling, insistently, tugging the neckline out of shape, twining into the hair up around his throat. Pulling the jacket open, the zipper sliding down, down, down, while her fingers sought his underarms, a hot trickle of sweat she could smell -- dark, sweet -- even through the pads of her fingers. Nails. Nails digging tighter and tighter into the heat of his flesh. Twisting the fabric of his shirt, ripping it. Just a little rip at first, then a larger, more insistent tear... then a wholehearted scream, her mouth opened, bared teeth in his back as she ripped the fabric from top to bottom and raked her fingers extended to the matted fur of his belly. Tickling? No way... this man was steel... leather... she could feel the ripple of his muscles, but she knew somehow, inside, these muscles would never feel her. Not even her nails, twined, tight, coiled, digging in to the taut hard flesh, pulling at his hair, digging into the tight hot skin over his ribs. Seeking the tiny buds of his nipples now, one at a time. Slippery and elusive in the slipstream. Nothing more than cold nubs, stretched and taut in the leather skin over his pects. Fingers strumming them, hard nubs just begging for her palms, warming and soft. For a second her palm in her own mouth, wet with warm spittle. Back to the apple-pit of his nipple, wet for less than a second until the cold breeze of their passage dried on his skin, leaving her hands chill against the molten heat of his chest. Fingertips in the leather waistband of his chaps. His abdomen flexed for just a moment and her left hand snaked its way down. Into those warm, dark recesses of heat and vibration. The dull throbbing ache of his meat, coiled and animal-soft against the back of her knuckles. Twining her fingertips into the long kinky hairs, seeking the root. Two fingers split, the first and middle fingers slid around the root of his shaft, seeking the soft crinkly flesh of his balls, warm hard knots like textured golf-balls under her fingertips. Amazed at them, hard, round and solid under her fingerpads. His shaft slowly uncoiled, alive against the back of her hand, pressing its warm wet kiss into the skin of her wrist. Her right hand, stroking him through the leather, coaxing him to life. "Come out and play... come out and play..." a fingertip stroked the coiled bulge in the leather along the shaft from tip to root, stroking. Then two fingertips, then her palm, feeling his warmth through the leather, seeking the buttons and twisting, twisting them one at a time from top slowly to bottom, freeing the hungry animal at last from his throbbing prison. Her nipples rubbed, rough and insistent, her mouth open, drooling slick patterns in the glossy textures of his leather jacket, her sopping panties a mess of slick juices puddling the leather seat, and his cock at last free. Stroking the thick veined shaft, warm, blood-hot in her hands. The fingertips of her left hand could close around the shaft at the root, but with her right hand she could only cup the bulbous head in her palm. The cock-head's drool of slick juice coated her hand, letting her palm slide side to side, back and forth, circling it wet and sliding over the edges, back and forth. The soft web of skin between her thumb and first finger slid insistently over the throbbing knob of the head. Her splayed fingers rubbed it insistently, stroking back and forth warm and teasing and rough. The skin throbbed under her fingers, seemed to pulse in time to her stroking. A continuous drizzle of his juices seeped from the head, spit-thick. Her mouth open on his back, she imagined the feel of his cock in her mouth, her lips stretched wide to suckle him. Insistently she stroked him, hot in the cold air. With one gloved hand on hers he quieted her hands, positioned them subtly so that the left hand tightened over the root while the right circled the shaft just beneath his bulbous head. She started to stroke him slowly, noticing that with her hands in that position his prick was still so massive that there was a good eight inches of throbbing flesh between her hands. She slowly stroked them together once... a second time... a third, developing an insistent rhythm, stroking the hard, knobbed pulsing shaft in her hands... together, apart, together, apart. Skip a beat... together, apart. Once again with his gloved hands he bade her stop the stroking, to simply hold on tight, right where she was. With a sigh she tightened her fingers, denting the flesh. The clutch screamed; he down-shifted into a turn then throttled up. The cornering force slipped her back along the seat, her hands tightening further on his shaft they slid downward toward the root. A touch on the brake, dropping from seventy down to fifty, momentum pressing her body forward, her chest bouncing into his back, her hands sliding up along the pole, the head throbbing insistently in her grasp until he again touched the throttle and the bike sped up. She was pulled back away from him and again her fingers stroked downward along his prick to the root... then again with the brake, forcing her hands up along his length. She kicked the platform heels aside, they clattered forgotten to the roadbed as she lifted her legs up, surrounding him, straddling his back, her ankles crossed in front of his waist as she pulled herself tighter and tighter against him, pressing her sopping cunt into the small of his back as he insistently jacked himself with her hands. A tight right hairpin turn, her fingers slid on his cock, pointed nails raking against the velvet- coated, steel-hard flesh. Another deceleration, stroking up across the throbbing veins. Rubbing the juicy head again with her palm, making her hands slide slicker and hotter than before. Feeling the throbbing heat of the engine in the small of her back, the roar of the exhaust just inches from her ears Her nipples were hard, throbbing pinpoints in the cold air, her cunt ached with emptiness, longing and raw vibration, her hair streamed behind them, her mouth a screaming red welt as her hands stroked his throbbing fuck pole and the roaring heat and vibration and flames of the iron beast beneath them soared over the top of a hill, cresting. Into the air, silent and smooth for twenty glorious flying feet until they slipped gently to the ground and with a guttural groan he climaxed. Slippery gobs of cum shot forward over the gas cowling, only to be caught in the slipstream and sloshed back onto her hands, making her grasp even slicker than before. Her spunk-slick hands slipped and slid and she lost her hold and slid, her hands slick and slimy with his seed, unable to hold on to his glistening tool and she fell sliding back. Only her clasped ankles and taut thighs holding her to his body as he negotiated a tight left turn and she clasped her hands over her breasts, rubbing the slick cum into the raw, wind-whipped flesh, breathless with anticipation as the chopper skidded to a stop amid a hail of gravel. END * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world contract HIV every year. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 68