Test Ride · Part 2

Test Ride · Part 2 (2/2)
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Gently she kissed the tip of my cock. Licking her lips once, she surrounded it with her full lips, slowly taking more of me into her mouth. With agonizing slowness she descended upon my swollen member until her lips were at the very base of my cock. The warmth of her mouth and tongue encircled me and made me dizzy with desire.

Her tongue began to encircle my cock as it was still deep in her warm mouth. Deliberately she raised her head, holding a slight suction as my cock withdrew from her throat. Finally she held just the head in her mouth and she stopped. Her tongue was still busy around the head of my cock as she held it tightly with her lips. Just as I wondered how long I could survive this teasing without coming, she took more of me into her warm mouth, again to the base of my member. I wondered how she could breathe.

With increasing speed she moved her mouth up and down the length of my member, first holding just the very tip in her mouth, then taking me deep into her throat. Her tongue seemed to flutter and vibrate against my cock as she moved. In and out her mouth went, making me helpless with pleasure. I had to have her then.

I reached again for her pussy. "I have to fuck you," I moaned. "Please let me fuck you…please…" She began to make a sound deep in her throat, an animal sound which made my entire crotch vibrate. I knew that I would come at any moment.

She brushed my hand away, continuing to suck and lick my cock. I threw my head back, unable to hold myself back any longer.

My body arched convulsively as my orgasm took control. I felt Inge lift my buttocks off the seat of the motorcycle, her mouth still holding my cock. She cupped my ass cheeks in her two hands, stroking them, as she sucked me. Her head was moving up and down on my cock, faster and faster, licking, sucking, growling deep in her throat, scraping her teeth up and down the length of my shaft and up to the head of my cock and back down to the base and up and down and up and down and licking and biting and sucking and i dont know how much more i can takeandpleasedont stopdontstoppleasepleaseplease, aaaaaaahhhhh….

Finally, I came, shooting my semen deep into Inge's throat. She swallowed it and kept sucking, demanding more. My loins continued to pulse, seemingly for hours, with the intensity of that orgasm.

After a time I withdrew from her warm mouth, feeling the sudden cooless of the open air on my moist cock. She looked at me with satisfaction.

As I sat upright on the seat, Inge drew herself up to her full height. She was slightly taller than me as I sat on the still idling bike, and her breasts jutted imposingly.

"You will notice," she said, "that the smoothness of the engine is unusual, even after a long period of idle." She laid her hand on the rear of the bike. "The rear supension is the BMW Monolever adjustable swinging arm, with vertical travel of 110 mm, supported with spring strut and gas-filled damper with progressive total spring rate and three load settings."

I slid off the saddle and took her into my arms, covering her mouth with mine, cupping her buttocks with my hands, pulling her body to mine. I could taste the salt of my semen on her lips. I should have been spent, but I felt a strong desire for her then, a stirring in my loins, as my cock began to rise again.

She felt it, and pulled away from me slightly, her eyes wide with wonderment.

"You have more left?" she asked, firmly grasping my member as it hardened.

"For you, yes," I replied, anxious to enter her.

"Come," she said, pulling me toward the bike. She straddled the seat, facing to the rear, and beckoned to me with both hands. I mounted the bike to face her, my cock already fully risen. Inge lifted her body onto my lap, her legs twining around my waist. She lowered herself upon my erect member, sighing with satisfaction.

"Drive," she said.

"Huh?"

"Drive the motorcycle. Just like you did before." Her eyes were closed and she spoke in a dreamy tone of voice. I raised the BMW to vertical and pushed up the kick stand. I pushed the transmission into first gear with my bare toe. Twisting the throttle and gradually releasing the clutch, we began to roll.

"Faster," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Faster." I increased the speed and negotiated the turns, Inge impaled on my cock as we rode. Her long legs encircled my waist tightly, her arms were locked around my neck. At the first turn she moaned slightly and began to grind her body into mine. The second turn was faster, a sweeping left hander, and as we exited she was sobbing and bouncing on my cock.

I tried to concentrate on driving.

I could feel the slickness of her wet pussy impaled on my throbbing cock. As we swept throught the turns she bounced and ground on my cock with more and more ardor, until we neared the end of the road.

Slowly I turned the bike around before we reached the main road with its heavy traffic. Inge, oblivious, still bounced and squirmed on my lap. As I accelerated through the turns her passion seemed to increase, until, when we reached the wide spot in the road where we had first stopped to discard our clothes, she had lost all control. Her juices poured copiously from her pussy, liberally coating both of our bodies and the seat of the bike.

By the time I had slowed the BMW, Inge was uttering loud, inarticulate animal cries as she bounced and squirmed, impaled on my now battered member. Her strong legs, twined around my waist, were forcing the breath out of me. Her fingers scraped convulsively at my back, and I was sure that she had drawn blood. Her hungry mouth locked onto mine and her tongue busily explored the inside of my mouth.

As I brought the bike to a stop she threw her head back, her teeth bared and flashing in the sunlight. She clasped me tightly, as though seeking to extract the very last drop of pleasure from me. We both held our breath as we sat there on the slippery motorcycle. I could feel the strong muscles of her pussy contracting rhythmically on my cock as she seemed to draw me up into her body.

I was grasping at her now, cupping her buttocks in my hands, collecting handfuls of our mingled juices and spreading them on our chests and faces. She was stroking my cock with her pussy, lifting slowly off my lap, until I was barely inside her. She lowered herself on me, burying me deep inside her, then raised back up again with agonizing slowness.

With each stroke she increased her speed, until at last she was thrusting up and down on my cock like a fine German machine. Her gasping sobs mingled with mine now, as we approached orgasm.

We climaxed noisily, me pumping burning spurts of come into her swollen pussy, Inge demanding more and more. She reached down between us, pulling my cock from her, and I watched the last few drops of my semen issue forth, landing in the golden curls of her mound. She rubbed them into her pussy hair, satisfied at last.

We sat there for a long moment, entwined in each other's arms on the motorcycle, as our breathing returned to normal. The flush of arousal which had spread across her cheeks and down across her breasts was fading. The sun had sunk behind the hill to our right and I knew that there would be a chill in the air soon.

We dismounted carefully, disentangling our arms and legs from each other, and picked up our clothes. As we dressed there by the side of the road, Inge seemed to regain a measure of composure.

"Do you like the handling…of the bike?" Her accent had become more evident now. She looked at me seriously as she tucked her shirt snugly into her jeans.

I grinned at her.

"Can we take another test drive later, after I heal from this one?" She looked away.

"I have to get back now." She opened the small tool compartment under the seat and extracted a small cloth. Carefully she wiped the seat, then discarded the rag. "Can we go back now?" I swung my leg over the seat and she took her place behind me.

I drove back to the dealership slowly, not wanting the ride to end. As we pulled into the parking lot I could see that the lights were out and the CLOSED sign hung in the window.

"Do you have a key?" I asked.

"No, I thought I'd just go straight home," she said, dismounting.

"Would you like to have dinner or something?"

"Maybe later," she said. "I'm very tired." I shut off the bike and got off, handing her the keys.

"I hope your boss won't be mad," I said. "We were gone a long time." She gave me a mysterious smile.

"Believe me," she said, "he doesn't care a bit." She kissed me softly on the lips, looking deeply into my face, her blue-grey eyes wide. She placed her cool palm against my flushed cheek.

"Take care," she said. She restarted the bike and accelerated expertly out of the parking lot and onto the main road. I stared after her for a long moment, and she was gone.

Shaking my head, I walked back to my car and got in, resolving to see her again the next morning. I was tired and sore from the unaccustomed acrobatics of the afternoon, but I felt more alive than I had in years. I began to sing: "I don' want a pickle, Just wanna ride on my motorsikkle; And I don' wanna die– Just wanna ride on my motorcy… Cull."

I felt a little silly and thought about what I would say to Inge when I visited her the next morning.

I was waiting at the front door of the shop the next morning when it opened. An old man with wispy hair, wearing a greasy jersey unlocked the door and turned the sign around to OPEN.

I opened the door and walked in, my eyes searching for Inge. The old man raised his eyebrows at me from behind the counter.

"Something I can do for you?"

"I was wondering where Inge was," I said.

"Who?"

"You know, Inge…she works here." I was beginning to feel lost and foolish.

"Ain't nobody here but me 'n' the missus," he said, jerking a thumb back to an overweight woman in a faded print dress who was sweeping up in the back of the store.

"But she has to be here," I said desperately. "I test drove a BMW with her yesterday. I wanted to buy it. I wanted to talk to her. I had some questions to ask her…where is she. Please."

I felt disoriented and dizzy. I steadied myself on the counter.

"BMW?" he said, as though he had never heard the term. "That's one o' them furrin sikkles, ain't it?" He slid a gnawed toothpick into his mouth and looked at me.

For the first time I looked around the shop. There were rusting, battered pieces of a thousand motorcycles here, strewn in dissaray about the floor and shoved onto shelves up to the ceiling. The only light came from three bare light bulbs suspended from the ceiling by their cords.

Panicking, I raced outside, searching for the immaculate row of new BMWs. All I saw was the rusting carcasses of a dozen discarded motorcycles.

I looked at the sign over the plate glass window.

"UNCLE MAURY'S USED SIKKLE PARTS EMPORIUM"

The sign was hand made and fading, and had been hung crookedly over the store.

My heart pounding, I reentered the store. The shopkeeper leaned against his counter, still chewing his toothpick.

"You don't know Inge?" I asked him desperately, my voice hoarse.

"Inge… Inge… Seems like I used to…" His eyes seemed to turn dreamy as he removed the soggy toothpick from his mouth. he looked at me sharply.

"German broad…uh…lady?"

"Yes, yes," I said. "Do you know her?"

The old man scratched at his grizzled cheek.

"Seems like…naw, that wouldn't be!" he shook his head, muttering.

"Tell me, tell me!" I shouted, wanting to shake the truth out of him.

He squinted at me. "Well, back before I even got into the sikkle business, it was, oh, nineteen and thirty five, maybe thirty six..yeah, that was it, thirty six." His eyes seemed to go dreamy as he remembered.

"What happened, what happened?" I was frantic now, desperate to find my love.

"Seems like there was this German broad, sorry…lady who was from some kind of high mucky-muck family in Munich, back right before the war, you know, dubya-dubya two. I was in that one." He seemed about to go off the track again, but I waited for him to continue.

"The way I heard it, she was supposed to marry some guy, but he went off on his sikkle and got hisself killed. It was a big deal, I heard. Some said his sikkle had been rigged to fall apart on him soon's he got movin' pretty good. Way I heard it, there wasn't hardly enough for them to bury." He trailed off, gnawing pensively on his toothpick.

"What happened to her?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"From what I heard, she died," he said. "Went off on a ride all by herself and just didn't come back. Folks over there figured she was so tore up about that guy she was supposed to marry, she just rode her own sikkle over a cliff or something. Damn shame, too, from what I hear. She was supposed to be quite a looker."

"You mean she was never seen again?" I asked. "Just disappeared?"

"Well, some folks say she still hangs around people who like sikkles. Seems that was what really turned her on, sikkles, and people who knew about 'em. I think it's all a bunch of supertitious crap, if you ask me." He spat on the greasy floor.

I stumbled from the filthy shop in a daze and opened the door of my car. Turning the ignition key, I started the engine and pulled slowly out of the parking lot and onto the main thoroughfare. Cars passed me on both sides as I crept down the middle lane of the roadway.

Was she just a legend, or a product of my overactive imagination? Or had that ride through the country been real? I felt a deep sense of loss, not only because I knew I would never find her, but also because I was not even sure she had ever existed at all.

As I drove toward home, I regretted that we had never had a chance just to talk. We had shared total physical intimacy, each of us giving the other pleasure that was nearly unbearable, and receiving pleasure in like measure.

But we had never talked.

I wasn't even sure she knew my name.

As I turned the corner of my street, I reached for the transmitter of my garage door opener. As I pressed the button, I saw a metallic gleam deep in the shadows of my garage.

Stopping just at the entrance at the garage, I could see it clearly: the grey BMW I had ridden just the day before. I got out of the car and walked to the bike, wondering. As I circled it warily, I was aware that I was not alone. I turned around and she was there.

It was Inge, my beautiful Inge, leaning against the wall of my garage. She was smiling at me as she had when I first saw her, her arms folded across her chest. I could not speak.

"Do you feel up to a ride?" she asked.

I grinned back at her.

"Only if I won't scare you away this time." She came up to me, looking levelly into my eyes.

"Let's go for a ride and we'll see." She handed me the keys to the bike. As I accepted them, she encircled my waist with her arm.

"Let's just go for a ride, she said, her voice low, "and we'll see." We mounted the BMW, first me, then Inge behind. I inserted the key and turned the ignition on; the panel lights glowed in the subdued light of the garage. I pushed the transmission into gear, hearing the solid thunk! as it engaged. Releasing the clutch and rolling into the street, I felt Inge's grip tighten around my waist. As we accelerated I felt her cheek flat against my shoulder, and her nipples harden against my back.

Her hands were already stroking my chest as we turned off the main avenue and onto the back road to the hills. The BMW chuckled as we dug into the turns.

It was a great day for a ride.

Test Ride · Part 2 (2/2)
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