Black Journal Ch. 18

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Biker.
1.2k words
4.15
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Part 19 of the 29 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 07/05/2014
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Duncan Cyrus, age 24, Biker

I was able to have a free night. My first semester and already I was exhausted from the first month. My life became: job, college lab, and papers. I didn't have time for projects I liked doing. My "social life", which was mainly I meet a nice big girl every once in a while dwindled to zero. I didn't get to see my parents all that much either and I only lived half an hour away from them; an hour depending on time of day and traffic. Which is funny, because of my hermit life away from people, other than co-workers and peers, my pops had set me up on a date with an old teacher of his granddaughter. I didn't mind, not like I was dating or trying to be with anyone.

I gave her a call and she sounded very tough. At least I didn't have to worry about games being played. She was very straightforward. Our conversation was just the usual: names, family, interests, likes and dislikes. She was in love with motorcycling. She was even part of a biker gang. She called it a biker group or association. It's an all-female group. I believe the name was Angels. I was told there was a literal fight over two names. Arc and Fallen were the names that were debated over.

We decided to meet at a bar. Not my scene, but it was where she felt comfortable. I had already gotten us a booth when I arrived. Even over the loud music and talking I could hear the bike rumble. She came in and the woman had to be close to my age or maybe a year or two older. She wore her leather, black jacket. It was unzipped and she was wearing a shirt showing off her exposed cleavage. That was a sight to behold. Her tight, hip hugging, dark blue jeans put on display her chubby ass prominently. She was very cute, in a hardcore chick way. Very dark skinned and a pearly smile. She was about an inch to two inches shorter than me.

So what do you think? Did she consider herself an arc angel or a fallen angel? On the back of the jacket they all have a picture of themselves either with a heaven background or a hell one. The woman acted like a fallen one but she swore she was the arc type. Didn't really matter to me because I was enjoying the view from the other side of the table. She tried to get on my case that I was paying more attention to her boobs than her, but she always made sure she plastered them in my view. Our hangout was cool. We even armed wrestled. She thought she was the strongest thing on two legs. It wasn't an exaggeration really, but I was no slouch myself. I do live by myself and I have nearly been in fights. Mostly I accepted defeat because to appease her. She liked challenging men to such things; especially dominating geeky nerds such as me.

She did like I was back in school, stating that it's sexy doing what I need to do to get ahead in life. I had to admit when she told she worked as an interior designer it threw me a loop. She first went to school as an engineer but found decorating homes more enjoyable.

After a while we played pool. I tried that whole stand behind ploy as she shot, but no cigar on any public display of affection. Me and pool do not get along. She made sure I didn't live down the unbelievable amount of scratches. She did teach me a thing or two to keep my eye on the ball when I shot and to just barely tap the ball so I could get use to the aspect of the game.

We stayed at the bar for another hour or so. I finally saw her bike. It wasn't a Harley and that is my only knowledge of motorcycles. She followed me to my place and then she wanted to give me a ride. Was scared out of my wits to say the least. I will never buy one of those things. She found this stretch of road and rode like a bat out of hell. I finally found my breath after the ride was over, and surprisingly I was sporting a hard-on and some pre-cum had seeped out. I do vaguely remember with the engine roaring and my crotch was getting a pseudo lap dance from her.

Back at her house I finally got a reprieve and sat on her couch. She laughed at my predicament. She definitely got off making geeks like me squirm and weak to our stomachs and hearts. She offered me something to drink but I declined. She sat next to me with a beer in her hand. I hate beer and its God awful taste. She took a swig and sat even closer to me. Beer breath is not my idea of seduction. She forced a kiss from me. She had nice skills but that damn beer taste. She was pretty rough but I handled myself well.

She tore herself away from the kiss realizing she was losing that battle. I smirked out loud on purpose, and called her a light weight. She banged the beer on her table and jumped me. She ripped off my shirt and then bit into my neck. Tit for tat, so I licked her ear and then nibbled it. It was a spot. She relinquished her teeth, and I said some other arrogant line, and then she rode my face with her pussy. I was a lazy fuck that night. I wiggled my tongue in her clean shaven vagina. She grinded into my nose but I had already had enough experience with face-sitting.

I pinched her nipples and when she smacked my hands away I went into her backdoor with my thumb. It made her cum so much; pumping her anally with my thick digit and massaging the inside of her watering hole. She finally gave up. My mouth was soaked, but I was just getting started. I grabbed her by the throat and showed her what a true dominating kiss is all about. I plugged her with my tongue down her esophagus. She tried with all her might to pull away but I had clamped onto her buttocks to keep her in place.

When she became properly sedated I pulled her pants down and she stepped out of them. I only unzipped my own and took my throbbing prick out. I lubed my dick with her saliva. I made her lick and spit on my fingers. She wanted a taste so badly. I guided the tip to the entrance and the rest followed. I started her off slowly. She had never been fucked standing up. Takes a pretty strong person to be able to handle that position. With her right leg held up by my left arm and my right hand kept her face in position as I kissed her through the delirious euphoria of her splashy frenzy. What made my night was how I gently lowered her to the floor as she lied down in a weak and vulnerable state. Much like a fallen angel hitting the ground at light speed.

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