The Ride

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Wife and mother encounters an interesting stranger.
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Anyone watching Rachelle Bannion push her cart full of groceries across the half-empty parking lot could tell that she was not a happy woman. The stress showed in her face and in the little worry lines in her forehead. Oblivious to her surroundings, she mentally went over the last three nights at home with her husband. She had done all the right things and for once in their nineteen years of marriage he had failed to notice. She had shaved her legs and had worn the new nightgown; the one practically see-through with the plunging neckline that showed off her large tits. She had put on his favorite perfume and cooked his favorite meals. Of course she hadn't actually said "let's have sex tonight" but she shouldn't have to. They had been married long enough for him to know the signals.

Rachelle opened the side door of her SUV and started to unload the shopping cart as her thoughts continued. I may as well have been invisible. So this is what sexual frustration feels like, she thought. Should I be worried? Is something going wrong with his job? Or, have I done something wrong? I think I'm still fit and reasonably good looking; although it would be nice to hear it once in awhile.

A low whistle interrupted her thoughts and then, "They told me there was nothing to see in this little country town." Rachelle instinctively tensed and froze. She quickly acknowledged her vulnerable position. She was bent over, leaning through the side door of her SUV adjusting the last of the groceries. Her t-shirt had ridden up her back, and her faded jeans were pulled tight across her butt.

The words were spoken deep and slow from somewhere behind her. They seemed to drip with friendly southern charm. She thought she could feel eyes on her ass. The voice was male, all male; the kind that could make a woman weak in the knees and moist in very private places. She caught her breath. She straightened and turned.

There he stood ... a lone, leather-clad man, at the end of the parking stall next to hers. The only thing separating them was a jet black and chrome custom Harley motorcycle. She relaxed a little. He didn't appear threatening, at least not in the way that would cause her to scream and bolt, however something about him made her instincts switch to cautiously curious. And there was something else, an instant, undeniable chemistry. She could feel it down deep in her belly. "Excuse me?" she forced out, her voice raspy and dry.

He was standing still in his gold and black helmet, his eyes hidden by a pair of dark-tinted aviator glasses. It was disconcerting that she couldn't see his eyes. She felt, rather than saw that he was appraising her body from head to foot and back again; all five feet, nine inches of her. She was tall for a woman yet felt small in his presence. He had her by at least five, maybe six, inches.

"No disrespect intended ma'am. I've been out sight-seeing and that picture right there is the prettiest thing I have seen all day." Rachelle instantly blushed crimson. She glanced around to see if anyone was close by listening to their exchange, but the only people she saw were a couple of skateboarders at the end of the parking lot. She smiled slightly, shook her head as if to brush away the compliment, closed the back door and started to get into the front seat.

"Do you have time for a ride?" The words were innocent enough and yet the kind of ride Rachelle imagined made her blush again. She paused. This was crazy. Was she really being propositioned here in the parking lot of a grocery store? Rachelle was a married woman with one daughter, two dogs and a goldfish. She was a member of the PTA and a volunteer at the high school. Men did not come on to her in parking lots or anywhere else for that matter, including her own bedroom lately. The crazier thought was that there was a part of her who wanted to walk over to that bike and climb on, succumbing to the insane physical attraction that seemed to come from nowhere.

"Um...no...I mean, where would we go?" she stammered and then immediately felt silly. She used to know how to flirt. When had she forgotten? She searched for something clever to say but came up empty. At that, the man graced her with an understanding smile. Odd that the only thing she could see of his face were his lips, full lips, and a chiseled jaw made even more rugged by a two-day dark scruff. An unaccustomed sexual tension started deep in a place she had ignored for too long. Rachelle held her breath waiting to hear what he might say next.

"Girl, do you think if you and I were to get on this bike and head somewhere, that the destination would be important?" he aked. Somehow his question completely disarmed her. In her heart she knew that those were the most honest words she had heard in a very long time. Without thinking she answered defensively, "But...I don't know you, and... anyway I'm not.. I mean I'm married." As if to remind herself, she instinctively fingered the gold band on her left hand, but, she couldn't stop the hot flush and unintended smile that had completely taken over her face.

"All I can say to that is... there is one very lucky man livin' in this town!" His words and his tone carried a not too subtle hint of disappointment. For some reason, his expression and the heated moment were more than significant to Rachelle. This was more than a casual pass, at least she felt that it was. She found herself struggling with the conflicting feelings and forgotten urges. On the one hand, she felt a flash of raw, physical desire. She wanted this exact moment to never stop, curious as to where it might lead. On the other she was relieved to watch him mount his bike with athletic grace, start the engine, and drive off with a quick nod of his helmeted head.

As her emotions returned to normal, she could not help but sigh with disappointment as he disappeared around the corner and out of sight. Climbing into her Toyota, she closed the door with more force than was necessary.

She consciously willed herself to put the exchange behind her. She focused on the rearview mirror and maneuvered out of the parking space. As she turned out of the parking lot and into the flow of traffic, Rachelle glanced quickly at her watch. She would have to hurry to make it home in time for the cable repairman. Then again, weren't those guys always late?

She drove through the sprawling suburbs back to her slightly upscale, single-story rambler and mentally went through the rest of her day. Groceries were done. Next was the cable man and a load or two of laundry. Then came her favorite part of the day as the volunteer assistant cheerleading coach for her daughter Danielle's squad. She continued down the list, dinner on the table by six-thirty then her husband Eric would eat and retire to the couch and TV while she did the dishes and helped Danielle with her homework.

Lately, she had become aware that her days were looking exactly the same. No wonder an "interesting" proposition from a sexy man in black leather had given her a jolt; more than a jolt if she were completely honest with herself. She felt not only an intense and warm ache down low in her abdomen but also the surprising, undeniable moistness in her panties.

Perhaps tonight after dinner she would have to try a new tactic. She would slide casually onto the couch, with two cold Buds, wearing nothing but her sexiest smile and then watch her husband's reaction. Perhaps the time for subtlety was past. Rachelle smiled at the thought and tried not to wonder about how she would feel if he didn't notice..

She pulled into the driveway and noted the repair van parked on the street. The cable guy was on time and Rachelle was thankful for that pleasant surprise. She greeted him, and he shook her hand warmly and told her his name was Tim. Tim was just a little taller than Rachelle with a stocky build. He was muscular, and it was obvious that he worked out. There was no visible gut and his biceps strained the material of his rolled up t-shirt sleeves. She noticed his eyes were friendly, almost laughing in their brightness, and he had a dimpled smile that put her at ease instantly.

She led him inside, showed him the layout of the house, and then instructed him on where to set up the additional unit they had ordered for the bedroom. When he mentioned he would need to run a cable she pointed out the back hallway entrance to the attic.

She busied herself with the chores of the day and tried to stay out of his way. She couldn't exactly say when the restless feeling from the parking lot started again but there it was. Maybe it was when her arm brushed against Tim's as they passed each other in the hall. Maybe it was the laundry basket that rode at just the right spot high across her thighs as she carried it from room to room gathering the family's clothes. Whatever is was, she found herself thinking about how strangely erotic it was moving through the house, in and out of her bedroom, with a complete stranger; a young, handsome and friendly stranger at that.

As they each worked independently at their tasks, she never knew when she might bump into him again. She couldn't remember ever feeling this way before and wondered why it was happening now. The thought of Tim in her bedroom moving around her private space put her on edge, but not in a bad way. It made her think of possibilities, forbidden possibilities. What a strange day, first the man in the parking lot and now this.

Rachelle suppressed these erotic thoughts as she returned from the laundry room and rounded the corner into the far end of the hall. Tim was on the ladder under the opening to the attic. He was perched with one leg higher than the other, the upper half of his body out of site above the level of the ceiling. She looked up, froze, and let out a small, silent gasp. She found herself staring at the bulge in his tight jeans.

This is crazy, she thought. Then she paused for a second, But he can't see me. She kept staring. He moved to reach something higher and his t-shirt lifted with his arms. Rachelle caught sight of soft brown hair on a tanned six pack, his happy trail wandering deliciously down between two distinct hip bones and disappearing under a pair of red and white striped boxers peeking above his jeans. Rachelle gasped again and then clutched her throat as she caught her breath. She no longer wanted just to stare.

She wanted to walk boldly to the ladder and reach up and undo the zipper of those jeans, slowly, taking her time to unbutton, unzip, and release his growing erection. It could not be a coincidence that his bulge was precisely at mouth level. She licked her lips at the thought of uncovering his cock and freeing it from his pants and those boxers. Then she fantasized about stroking it, kissing it, tasting it and licking it until it was rock hard. In the embrace of her building heat, she hungered to tease the head with her tongue and then plunge the entire length deep into her throat.

By this time, Tim would have realized what was happening and then adjusted to give her better access. His pre-cum would be slightly sticky, a salty treat for her lustful thirst. She would devour his rock-hard prick again and again, lowering his jeans with her hands so she could grab his bare ass and pull him in as deep as he could go. She imagined his response, his moans increasing as his hips rocked shoving the full length of his cock over and over into her hot, hungry mouth.

Rachelle's fingers dropped from her throat and made their way to her aching and hardening nipples while her fantasy intensified. She imagined her other hand on Tim's engorged shaft, stroking it firmly to match his rhythm. She closed her eyes and from somewhere outside she heard, and then felt, the deep rumble of a motorcycle as it shifted gears. Her fantasy shifted immediately.

She saw the man in black from the parking lot walk through her front door and 'round the corner to the hallway as if he knew exactly where she would be and what she would be doing. The biker paused for a moment taking in the sight of Rachelle's unbridled lust as she continued sucking the cable man dry.

He was wearing that same wickedly promising smile he had worn earlier that day. Once their eyes met, Rachelle couldn't break eye contact with her fantasy man. She imagined the parts of his face she hadn't seen. She imagined he had sexy green eyes. She imagined they were staring hotly as she sucked and swallowed the hard cock fucking her mouth. She saw him nod his approval and her heart leaped as he strode confidently to her side.

She gasped again as his hand brushed roughly over her tits, snaked down her pants in a single fluid movement and his expert fingers found her clit. She could feel his warm breath in her ear, his hot kiss on her neck, one hand gently kneading her breast while the other massaged the swelling head of her clit between the soaking wet lips of her pussy.

Suddenly Rachelle caught a quick movement out of the corner of her eye and was rudely jerked back to reality. She turned away just in time to avoid eye contact with Tim as he descended his ladder. Her hands flew from her clit and her nipple as she realized it was she who had been touching herself everywhere.

Rachelle ducked quickly around the corner of the hallway and almost tripped over her discarded laundry basket. She leaned against the dining room table for support; her sticky fingers busy straightening her pants and smoothing her shirt tails. Rachelle struggled to clear her mind and bring her rapid breathing under control, but there was nothing she could do about the flush of her cheeks or the increasing wetness in her panties. Oh God! Did he see me? That worry only slightly overshadowed the unquenched heat in her lower belly and her building sexual frustration. Her clit positively ached for attention. That place deep in her pussy screamed for relief.

As Tim folded his ladder and noisily gathered his tools, she picked her purse up from the table and nervously started rustling through it. This allowed her to avoid eye contact with Tim when he entered the room. Was it her imagination or was that a knowing smile as he listened to another explanation of where she wanted the cable box mounted in the master bedroom.

The thought of being alone with him in her bedroom started to become very arousing and at the same time made her extremely nervous. She wondered if he knew how incredibly horny she was feeling. Could he sense that her panties were sticky with her juices? She could smell her wetness. Could he? Could she trust herself to be alone in her bedroom with any man right now, let alone one this physically appealing?

She was starting to panic when thankfully, just as they reached the bedroom door, her cell phone rang. This gave her the reason she needed to shut the door behind him as he entered the bedroom and then quickly turn and walk down the hall; away from the temptation of that room, and that bed.

The call was from Vicki, the head cheerleading coach. Her rapid chatter helped Rachelle back away from the dangerous brink she had almost tumbled over. She patiently listened as Vicki quickly explained the latest drama, this time about the newly-hired head football coach. The rocky relationship between the football program and the cheerleaders was usually centered on limited funding and went back as far as the team's history. It being Texas, the football program generally won the day.

Rachelle consciously welcomed the distraction. It helped her to suppress her fantasy about the good-looking repairman in her bedroom and her own physical frustration. She listened to her friend describe what the new coach was doing to stake out his territory and establish his reputation. According to Vicki, he was doing so at the expense of the cheerleaders.

"That egomaniacal prick is taking away the cheer bus," Vicki complained "Something about needing a second bus for additional football equipment." Vicki continued "If he gets his way we will have to forfeit going to the away games or travel at our own expense. I tried to talk to him, but he said he had a meeting and suggested we drop by his office later. He really pissed me off when he gave me a drop-your-pantie's smile and then just walked away. What an absolute asshole!" Apparently the new coach had not made a favorable impression on Vicki.

In addition, Vicki had come away from the meeting having lost control of the situation: unusual for Vicki who had a bit of a reputation as a "maneater". So this new coach must have charisma not common to his predecessors. However, Vicki was also a bit of a drama queen and prone to exaggeration. After listening to Vicki's version of the confrontation, Rachelle suggested that she should be the one to try and reason with him.

Rachelle consulted her watch, "OK Vic, I have the time, if I hurry. I will have a friendly talk with Coach Hardcastle before practice. He's new and doesn't understand how things work around here. I am sure I can reason with him." Rachelle finished calming Vicki down, hung up and headed to the bedroom to change.

She had forgotten completely that Tim was still in the house and working in the very room where she intended to become naked. Totally focused on what she would say to the new coach, she entered the room and plowed head first into him. Her hands went up instinctively to block their collision, but not before both of her tits briefly flattened against his massive chest. He obviously noticed the softness of her ample bosom and his eyes indicated that he definitely liked the feel. "Sorry," she stammered, pulling her hands back and blushing as she remembered her x-rated fantasy and the wet panties she still wore.

"Ahh .. No problem and I'm all done here, Mrs. Bannion. I can tell that you are in a hurry. I'll see myself out."

"Thank you. I'll call the office in the morning and let them know what a great job you did." she called to his broad back as he walked away. Reluctantly, she closed the bedroom door, mentally reflecting on her fantasy and lost opportunities.

She quickly stripped naked and tossed the wet panties into the laundry basket. How did they get that wet? As she started gathering her workout clothes for the afternoon session with the cheerleaders she absently reflected on the events of the day: the handsome man on the bike, the good looking cable man, the intense fantasy that had been interrupted before it could be properly concluded. As if with a mind of its own, her hand drifted between her thighs lightly brushing through her soft pubic hair. She started probing her slit with three eager fingers and gasped each time they found her sensitive clit. She moaned softly and closed her eyes and started to swim in the pure sensation of what she was doing. This isn't right! She pulled her hand away quickly from its unplanned exploration. Masturbation was not something Rachelle Bannion practiced, at least not very often. She was not exceptionally skilled, and her feelings about self- gratification were conflicting. Did she dare? She so needed to do something.

As if on a dare she gave in to her desires and allowed her hand to travel south again. She palmed her swollen pubic mound, and her fingers purposely parted the lips and gently lingered on her inflamed clit. She moved shyly at first, probing, stroking, experimenting with slow then rapid movement. Even with her novice massaging she could feel her heat quickly building. Within moments, it started to consume her and her concentration returned to her fantasy, the man in leather and the cable man, both at the same time. Both of them returning to her, bare chested, here in this bedroom, the very bedroom she shared with her husband.

In her fantasy, the biker undressed her and the cable man came up close from behind and wound his arms tight around her under her breasts. His mouth was on her neck. He kissed her ears, nibbled her earlobes and pressed his full length against her backside. He watched in the full length mirror of the closet doors as her clothes came off one by one and dropped to her feet. After uncovering her 36 D's, the biker bent to take one swollen nipple into his mouth and tease it with his tongue. He nipped softly and gently nibbled back and forth between nipples, one at time until they remained hard and erect on their own. Amazingly, she felt the area around her nipple swell, harden, and stand out from the softness of her breasts. Her breathing quickened. Her heart was racing, and Rachelle felt the hot pressure building.

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