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We were hardly more than shadows.
But the details became more apparent as we kept walking. The tall, wide frame. The defined facial features. The jeans, tee, and then, finally, the leather cut.
This was my biker.
The guy I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking again since I’d walked away from him. The one I was sure I’d never seen again.
I wasn’t like Josie.
I didn’t believe in the stars aligning and shit being meant to be. But I did believe that sometimes life could toss a fun coincidence at you.
And I was all about grabbing those little opportunities when they came at me.
So I led him down the strip, then a side street, then finally onto the street with my little business strip.
Stupid? Maybe. It meant he would have a way to find me again.
But I was too high on anticipation to force myself to make a better decision.
I just rushed ahead, unlocking my door, then disappearing inside.
Where I lay in wait for him to come by.
Then grabbing him, pulling him inside, and all but jumping on him.
Desire was a spark that ignited into a wildfire that raged through every inch of me as my hands were on his, and his on mine.
The ache between my thighs was painful as he took me back to the couch, sat down, and had me straddling him.
Some part of me wanted to take our time, explore, at least get some clothes off this time. But the need was too acute to deny.
There was almost no foreplay, save for me sucking his cock for a couple short minutes.
Not that I needed it.
I was dripping wet already.
I watched him slip on the condom as I pulled off my panties.
Then I was climbing over him, feeling his cock press against my pussy as my lips sealed to his once again.
I rocked against his length, engaging my clit, as he took over the kiss. Deepening it. Tongue teasing. Teeth nipping.
His hands were on my bare ass, using it to drag me more roughly across him, my little whimpers getting swallowed up by his lips.
Then, impatient, I was reaching between us, grabbing his cock, and holding it as I lifted up, as I positioned over him, then lowered down, feeling his cock slip inside of me, inch by delicious thick inch, until he was settled deep.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he growled against my lips, making my walls tighten around him.
I had to concur.
He felt fucking amazing.
Better, even, than I’d been fantasizing about in bed with my stupid vibrator that just wasn’t cutting it. Not when what I wanted was a real, flesh-and-blood man. This one, in particular.
The biker’s hands went down to my ass again, one hand sinking into a cheek, the other one giving the other a hard slap.
“Fucking ride me, baby,” he demanded, making my pussy do another little squeeze. At the pain/pleasure of his slap, but also the little endearment.
