The Biker

I knew he was coming home with me. I hadn't met him in person yet, but I knew he'd be coming home with me. From the pictures of him on his motorcycle with sunglasses to the tattoos on his back; I knew I would not be coming home alone. I wasn't planning on him coming back with me. I wasn't hoping for it. I just knew.

...yet I still didn't clean before leaving the house.

We met at a bar he would frequent, with a theme that shall remain undisclosed. When I walked in, he took one look at me and I could read it on his face, "Oh thank God you're not a catfish." I'm sure the same reflected on my face, as he did not disappoint either: black riding jacket, gloves, and boots were completed with blue eyes, five o'clock shadow, and boyish grin.

We sat and talked for a while before playing a round of pool. A few times he would slide in behind me while I was aiming for a shot; getting a feel for my hips and ass. After a couple hours at the bar, he asked me if we should go back to my place. I thought about it. It really wasn't my intention to bring him home, but truth be told; I was enjoying my time with him. Those blue eyes, large body, and playful demeanor had me saying, "Yes. But give me a head start, I need to clean."

I sped home, threw everything in the closet and shut the door. "There; room's clean." I heard the sound of a loud engine and knew he'd be at the door in a minute. He took his helmet off as he walked up; revealing ruffled hair. As I closed the door behind him, he continued stripping his outer layer until he was just in his shirt and jeans. When he finished, he turned to me with a smile.

"Hey," he said, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Hey," I responded with a smile.

Once in my room, our arms went around each other before our lips found one another. His facial hair scratched a little but he was good. He enjoyed kissing. ...how refreshing. Normally guys used kissing as obligatory foreplay. Not this one. As we made out, we stripped each others shirts. My pants came off and I laid on the bed. I watched him unbutton his jeans and slide them down his legs.

"Oh, thank God," I thought.

I had been having disappointing encounters for months, but when I saw his bulging penis, I knew I'd be satisfied. Possibly even hurt so good satisfied. It was large and thick.

Dammit, I still get horny thinking about it.

He slipped on a condom, climbed atop of me and pushed inside me.

"Yeeeeeees," I sang in my head. It almost felt as if he were stretching me; expanding my walls to make room for his cock. When he had first dipped into me, my eyes had fluttered shut and stayed that way until it felt he had finished molding the inside of me with his dick. When I opened them again, blue eyes held me. I responded with a slow, satisfied smile as he humped me.

Then he rolled onto his side, still inside me, and started thrusting as he spooned me. I curled in on myself; fetal position, drinking in the sex. He took my face in his hand and turned it toward him. He hungrily kissed me, keeping up the spoons position while thrusting harder. My mouth fell open, unable to reciprocate his kisses, as he penetrated my G spot. My body spasmed, tensed, and moans came out every time he hit deep inside of me. God, he felt amazing. I came before he did and was able to enjoy his hard and fast pace with my vagina throbbing. He climaxed shortly afterwards and slowly withdrew himself from me. I laid panting on the bed, my eyes heavy. I knew I would enjoy him.

As I came out of my satisfied stupor, I sat up only to see him getting dressed... while he was still hard.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked.

"What?"

"You're still hard. If you have the CAPABILITY of going again, then it is your RESPONSIBILITY to go a second time."

He laughed. "Well, you literally drained the cum from me."

I crawled to the edge of the bed as he proceeded to put on his shoes. Sitting up, I wrapped my naked body around his back and ran my fingers under the front of his shirt. I buried my face in his neck and kissed his skin as I roamed my hands over his chest and stomach.

"You're not going anywhere," I thought.

While my lips continued brushing the hairs on his neck, my fingers gathered the hem of his shirt and lifted it back over his head. I slid around him to the front side and sat in his lap. His facial hair looked good, so I ran my fingers through his stubble and leaned in for more kisses. He obliged, placing his hands on the small of my back and pulled us both back into the bed as we made out. He unbuttoned his pants to slide the jeans off again. Taking advantage of him going commando, I brushed down his shaft and cupped his balls. He reveled in the sensation before climbing on top and straddling me again.

I managed to get round two out of him before he left, and to my surprise I saw him again... and again, and again. Honestly, I had pegged him as a one night stand, but I was happy to be wrong. It became a normal thing for me to laugh at him every time he tried to leave after round one.

"I have to wait until after midnight for you to be available. You're funny if you think you're leaving before going a second time."

"So get a night job, like me," was his comeback.

Dick. I should have chained him.