Desert Biker
Wide open, desolate, and hot; everything bakes under the unrelenting sun in the American Southwest. I squinted down the two-lane highway, listening for several minutes for any other traffic, but there was none. I'd stopped at the side of the road and taken a leak in the sagebrush that threatened to overgrow the small concrete picnic table, shaded with a flimsy aluminum shelter. I sat on the warm bench and unwrapped my lunch that I'd bought at a convenience store several miles up the road.
The sound started as a whisper, barely louder than the wind rustling through the brush, but it got louder as he approached. The familiar put put put of a motorcycle. I saw him crest the hill and then watched him approach the little rest area. He slowed down and eyed me. An older guy with a bushy gray beard and full riding leathers. I gave him a quick wave and then looked down to my lunch. The sound receded, but then got louder. A couple hundred yards down the road, he'd turned and was headed back. I sat up straight and gulped the bite that was in my mouth.
The biker pulled in behind my car and pressed the kick stand down, settling his bike just on the edge of the hot asphalt, making sure it wouldn't tip over. "Howdy," he said, a low rumble. I nodded at him, fascinated at this large, burly guy, covered in black leather. It felt like a mirage. He stepped over to the same bush that I'd used and fumbled with his crotch until I heard a zipper pull down and then a long "Ohhhhhh!" he sighed. His piss splashed the dirt and sounded like someone had turned on a hose. I snuck a peek but wasn't able to see anything. After several seconds, he stopped and tucked himself back inside his pants.
"Middle of nowhere," he grunted while looking around. I agreed. He asked me my name and I told him. "I'm Jeb," he said, and stuck out his hand. It was large and rough, the hands of a man who worked for a living. He kicked a rock out of the way and sat down across from me on the bench. We made small talk for a bit and he asked me what I was doing out there. "Just trying to figure some shit out," I admitted. He smiled as if he knew what I meant. "Old lady problems?" he asked. "Not exactly," I said. He smirked a little and said, "Boyfriend problems?" "That obvious?" I asked. We talked a bit more, seeming to get more comfortable with each other. "Aren't you hot in all that?" I asked, looking up and down at his riding leathers. "You get used to it," he asked, but at the same time, unbuttoned his jacket, letting his big beer belly out. The logo of a motorcycle company stretched across his chest and belly. I stared a bit too long.
He stood up and pulled his jacket off and laid it across the table. Jeb towered over me, blocking the sun. His hand moved down to his crotch, and he squeezed himself. "You wanna help me out with this?" he asked. I nodded that I did and reached across the table. He laughed a little and told me to be patient. "We could use my car," I offered, thinking we could take advantage of the roomy backseat. He shook his head. "Nah, this'll work out here, ain't nobody around." Jeb stepped around the picnic table, and I swung my leg over the bench. He stood in front of me and looked down, his blue eyes twinkling. I reached out and stroked his bulge which filled out his leather pants. "It's big!" I observed. He smiled again and started to undo his pants. He pulled his long, cut cock out, and pulled his zipper wide, showing me a full bush of silver hair. I moved in and licked his head. I tasted the saltiness of his piss and the muskiness of his crotch and the leather. "That's right!" he grunted and pushed me down on him. He wasn't fully hard yet and I was able to take him most of the way in. He sighed and told me how good I felt. I slobbered on him for several minutes, intoxicated with the smell of him and the cold metal of his zipper pressed against my face. "Let me do you," he said, which surprised me.
I pulled off him and looked up, questioning. "Get on the table, and I'll do you," he said. I got up quickly and tugged at the cord holding my shorts. They dropped around my ankles. He smiled and helped me pull them over my shoes, leaving me nude from the waist down. "Mmmm," he moaned and licked his lips. My bare ass pressed against the warm concrete, and he spread my legs and dove in. He took me all the way and I bucked up, surprised at how good he felt. I felt his bushy beard tickle my balls and I told him over and over how good he felt. His spit traced down and dripped onto the bench below me. Jeb fondled my balls with his hand and worked the spit into me. "I like that!" I told him. Jeb moved his finger lower and pressed against my hole. As if waiting for my permission, he paused. I moved my ass closer to the edge and opened my legs. "Look at me," he said. I opened my eyes and looked down. Jeb's kind face smiled up at me, the creases across his face deepening. He licked my head and then pushed his finger in. I stared down at him and moaned. He pushed in about halfway and I told him I couldn't last much longer.
Jeb stood up and with his finger still inside me, squirmed it around a little and held our dicks together with his other hand. "Let me know when you're close," he said. I told him within seconds that I was about to cum. Jeb moved back down and held my cock right in front of his face. He worked my prostate with one finger and jerked me off. My back arched and I started to cum. The first shot sprayed his face and the next shot into his beard followed by several more. As I started to come down, Jeb opened his mouth and gently sucked the rest out of me, and pursed his lips, letting it flow out of his mouth and into his beard.
"Fuck! That was amazing!" I told him. Jeb smiled at me and then stroked his beard, working my cum into the wiry, silver, beard. I realized Jeb's finger was still inside me and I moaned when he moved it around. "You like ass play?" he asked. I nodded. The thought of getting fucked out here on this picnic table on the side of the road was starting to become very tempting. "Can I use your jacket?" I asked. He shrugged as if unsure what I was asking. I got up and let him slip out of me. I spread his black leather jacket over the table and then bent over it, submitting to him. Jeb chuckled and said, "You're a wild one, aren't you?" "Put your finger back in me," I begged him. Jeb moved behind me and spread my cheeks. His tongue darted against me, and I ground against his face. When he thought I was wet enough, he slipped his finger back in. He pressed and pressed until I felt every knuckle open me up. I moaned and felt myself getting hard again. We both heard the sound and waited. A car was coming and was getting closer. Jeb pulled out and sat back, as if there was nothing naughty going on. I didn't have time to move, and the car whizzed by, no doubt getting an eyeful of my bare ass up in the air. We saw the driver tap his brakes, but he kept going.
"We better hurry up," Jeb said. He stood up and walked over to his motorcycle, not bothering to cover himself, his long cock, dangling out of his pants. He pulled a small bottle out of a bag on the side of the motorcycle and brought it over and showed it to me. "This'll help if you're down for it," he said and showed me the bottle of lube. I smiled at him and then pulled my cheeks apart.
The lube was nice and warm as it oozed down my crack. Jeb's finger slipped in easier this time and I asked him to fuck me. He chuckled and then stroked more lube onto himself. "You ready?" he asked me. His large cock head was pressed against me, and I nodded. Jeb eased himself forward and I felt him push in. "Oh yeah!" I breathed out, letting him penetrate me. Jeb held onto my shoulders, and he pressed in. I opened around him and felt him push against my prostate. "You feel amazing!" I moaned. He grunted in satisfaction. Jeb's right hand moved under my t-shirt, and he pulled at my nipples. While rhythmically fucking me, his hand wandered down my stomach and found my cock. "Cum with me!" he said and started to stroke me with his lubed hand. I was close and could cum anytime, so I moaned, "Just say when!" Jeb stroked me with one hand and played with my nipples with the other, all the while pushing and pulling in and out of me.
Between the slapping of Jeb against me and our moans, we barely heard the sound of the car coming. I didn't want him to stop. Jeb was picking up steam. "Hurry!" I begged him and Jeb buried himself fully in me causing me to yelp. "Now!" He grunted. His hand clutched my cock and just as I felt him swell inside me, I unloaded on his leather jacket. Jeb grunted and fucked me quickly and then just as the car was within sight, he pulled out and let go of me. I collapsed onto his jacket and let my breath out.
The car sped by and we were alone again. "Thanks," I sighed, satisfied and still plastered on top of his jacket on the table. He chuckled and said, "That was a trooper, we better get going." I quickly handed Jeb his jacket and apologized for the mess I'd made on it. He shrugged and told me it wasn't a big deal. "Really though, we need to get out of here," he said and leaned forward. My lips met his and I could taste my cum on his lips. He slipped his tongue into my mouth and then squeezed my thigh before letting go.
Jeb tucked his wet cock back into his pants and pulled his coat back on. He kissed me one more time and then got on his motorcycle, revved it loudly and sped off in a cloud of dust. I found my shorts, covered in dust under the table and pulled them on over my wet, used ass. I wanted to follow Jeb and beg him to fuck me again, but that thought was interrupted. A brown police cruiser crested the hill and was headed down the highway. My heart started to race as he slowed down, pulled a U-turn and pulled in front of my car, blocking me in.
To be continued.