I was in Daytona Beach for a story on Bike Week. Being a big motorcycle enthusiast myself, it was the perfect assignment. I was hanging out at one of the bars on Main Street, having a laugh and knocking back a few drinks with some new biker friends. Five Kamikazes later, I was about to call it a night when the bartender handed me another drink and a slip of paper. "They're from the guy in the blue shirt," he said gesturing toward the end of the bar. The note read:
I've been watching you since you walked in the door, carefully checking out the way those leather pants cling to your body. And I've been thinking how nice you would look without them on. And then I thought how good it would feel to fuck you. And now I'm wondering if you'd like to go back to my place and prove me right.
That, as I came to find out, was this guy's idea of romantic foreplay. I looked over to see who my Romeo was. If his charming but audacious proposal wasn't enough to get my juices flowing, his smoldering gray eyes certainly were. They screamed, "Bad boy," and we all love the bad boys, don't we? I downed the Kamikaze then pushed my way through the tightly packed crowd.
He was even sexier close up. With James Dean, boyishly mischievous looks and a cocky attitude to match, I was in love - or at least in lust.
"You got my invitation, I see."
"Yeah. It was a bit brazen, don't you think?"
He shrugged. "It worked, didn't it?"
"Maybe. I'm still considering my options."
"Don't play hard to get, sweetie, 'cause I'm not buying it," he said, turning on his stool to face me. "You're over here for a reason and I know what it is." I felt his hand cup my leather-clad package.
I fought off a moan. I didn't want this guy knowing how much control he had over me, but the grin on his face said he already knew.
"What's your name, gorgeous?" he asked.
"John Paul," I said, removing his hand from my crotch. "Now you can stop calling me sweetie and gorgeous."
"Hot AND spicy. that's cool. Well, John Paul, my name's Dylan. You'll be screaming it out a few times tonight if you play your cards right."
If his smugness wasn't so arousing, it'd be infuriating. He tossed back the rest of his beer and threw a fifty on the bar.
"Come on, let's get out of here," he commanded. I nodded and followed him out of the bar.
He hopped on a silver Ninja ZX-9R parked right in front of the door. I saddled up on the lime green ZX-12R right next to it.
"Nice ride," he commented then laughed at his own innuendo.
"Where are you staying?" I asked, starting up my bike.
"The Hilton," he replied and started his. "You can follow me there."
"I know the way. I'll see you when you get there." I popped on my helmet and, in a show of smoke and squealing tires, took off down Main Street.
I waited for him in the lobby. He was only a minute or so behind but, of course, I made it seem like much longer.
"You handle your bike well," he said once we were alone in the elevator.
"I handle all my equipment well," I replied, giving my crotch a confident tug.
"We'll see."
The elevator doors opened and we took a quick walk down the hall to his room. number 406. He ushered me in and before the door could close behind us, he threw his helmet on the floor and pounced on me. He had my back turned to him, so I couldn't see what he was up to, but I could definitely feel it. I was content to let him run the show - he had been doing a pretty good job so far. I dropped my helmet beside his and gave in to his violent groping.
He held me tight to him and I could feel his raging boner pressing against my ass, even through a layer of denim and leather. Then I found myself pressed against the wall with him manically dry-humping my ass. One of his hands was mauling my aching package while the other one slipped under my shirt and started tweaking my nipple.
"Mm Dylan," I murmured.
He responded by kissing and nibbling on my neck. I was on fire! Dylan backed up a little so that he could undo my pants. I offered no help other than wiggling a little to make peeling them off a little easier. He slid them down to my knees then started undoing his jeans. I looked back to see what he was working with. He freed his man-tool from its denim prison and gave it a few strokes to puff it up to its full eight-inch glory. I wanted to drop to my knees and munch on that thick knob of his, and suck his big hairy balls. I'd have to fulfill that fantasy some other time, though.
He didn't even bother to pull his jeans off his hips. I watched him spit in his hand a few times and coat his cock. When he got it nice and slick, he pulled my hips back and told me to lean forward. I pressed my face and chest against the wall and spread my legs as far apart as I could. I heard him spit again and felt his wet fingers probe the opening to my asshole. Then I felt something bigger pressing at the entrance. Holding onto my shoulders, he thrust his hips forward and popped his swollen dick head into my ass. I let out a yelp but he kept pressing forward, sliding the full length of his pole into me.
I'd never felt pain like that before as inch after inch of his thick cock forcibly invaded my rectum. But, at the same time, I'd never felt so sexy. Dylan's brutish eagerness was arousing. He pulled his cock out of my tender ass and plowed it back in deeper than before. I whimpered in a combination of pain and lust. My knees felt like they would buckle at any moment, but he was holding my hips tightly as he began to drill me with his prick. Eventually, the pain gave way to lust and I was backing up to meet his thrusts.
"Yeah, you like this don't you?" He gave my ass a nice open-handed slap that resounded in the tiny foyer. "Answer me."
"Oh fuck yeah!" I whined. "Fuck me Dylan! Ram your dick up my cumhole!"
He slapped my butt a few more times and rode my ass raw. I mean, he was really digging me out - so deep and hard that I thought his nuts were going to bruise my ass. I hadn't even touched my cock and I could already feel the familiar pangs of an oncoming orgasm.
"Unh. unh." My groans grew louder with every plunge of his pecker. I closed my eyes and waited for the ultimate release. It was huge! Cum pumped out of my cock in one steady stream.
"Aw fuck!" Dylan howled. "I'm right behind ya!"
Dylan kept pumping furiously as he emptied his nuts into my bowels, churning his hot, sticky spooge. Some of it seeped out and ran down my leg.
Dylan collapsed against me, panting and sweating.
"That was incredible," he said with a sigh. I hummed in agreement.
My legs were beginning to cramp, so I straightened up. Dylan's cock slipped out of my ass and the rest of his cum trickled out of my well-used arse.
"Mind if I take a shower?"
"Only if I can join you."
"It's your hotel room," I said with a shrug and began to take off my clothes.
He quickly undressed and followed me into the bathroom. I watched him as he climbed into the shower behind me. He had a nice body - not spectacular, but I'd have no objections to cuddling up to it all night. I could tell he didn't work out; he was slim but felt a little soft as I ran my soapy hands through the light coat of hair on his chest and stomach. He turned around so I could soap up his back before I had a chance to finish up front.
I gave his ass a nice hard slap with my soapy hand. He hummed his approval so I spanked it again. I slapped him a few more times until his cheeks were nice and rosy, then gave his ass a good squeeze - it was nice and firm. He already proved that he liked to give it rough, but I wondered if he could take it. My cock was already jumping at the chance to find out.
I soaped up my throbbing tool, propped his leg up with his foot on the soap holder and, before he could protest, unceremoniously shoved my cock in his cornhole. All ten solid inches were buried snugly in his unsuspecting ass. He pounded his fist on the tile wall and I felt his body tremble. I reached around to stroke his cock; it was already hard as steel. That fucker was getting off on it!
I jacked him off and wiggled my pole around inside his shitter, trying to loosen him up a bit when I heard him say, in a low gravelly voice, "Fuck me."
"You sure?" I asked.
He turned his head and, with a wicked scowl etched on his face, repeated his demand. "Fuck me!"
I slowly withdrew my dick; his ass muscles choked every retreating inch. Then I slid back into him. I laid my pipe slowly, wanting him to feel every bump and groove as it raided his innards. I heard him whimper and moan, but I wasn't giving him what he wanted.
"If you're not going to fuck me with that thing, then take it out," he snarled.
If that's the way he wanted to play. I propped his other foot up on the edge of the tub, got a good hold of his hips and drove my cock into him with all my might.
"Yeah. that's it!" he growled as he endured my furious pounding.
The sounds of our fucking filled the bathroom - the obscene splashing sounds of my pelvis against his ass, the steady beat of his balls crashing into mine, and our combined grunting and moaning. He was thrashing about wildly; I grabbed a handful of his black curly hair to rein him in, which only made him buck even more.
As inevitable as death and taxes, our climaxes drew near. He was the first to go. I felt him tense in my hands followed by the familiar rhythmic clenching of his rectum as he unloaded his sperm. I rammed him as hard as my exhausted body would allow and pulled out just in time to spray a big creamy load onto his gaping asshole.
We stood frozen for a minute, catching our breath and letting the water run over our tired muscles. We finished showering in silence then stepped out to dry off. Before I could finish, Dylan had me bent over the sink with his fat-headed porker buried in my ass again. The pace was a little slower but it was no less intense. I returned the favor by force-feeding him my cock down then fucking him face down on the bathroom floor. We fucked each other two more times, in various locations and positions, until we couldn't move anymore.
We woke up the next morning tired and achy. We showered, separately, and got dressed. I waited for Dylan to check out then walked with him to our bikes.
"You're one hot stud," he said.
"Thanks, you're not so bad yourself."
He leaned in and gave me a solid kiss on the lips. He threw on his helmet, mounted his bike and started her up.
"See ya next year," he said as he drove off.
I gingerly mounted my bike and started it. "It's going to be long, painful ride back to D.C.," I said to myself as I sped away. then I smiled.