On the way to Sturgis ’05 [MM] [MMF]

Back in 2005, I was divorced, I wasn’t dating, I was in the swing of enjoying every moment of being bi, and in my early 30’s. I was in the best physical shape of my life, making good money and had just about everything right where I wanted it.

Except I was working 7 days a week on a regular basis, 12 hour shifts. That’s where the “good money” was coming from.

My relationships at the time were more or less hookups off of the internet or some random stuff. I went through condoms like they were going out of style. There was a lot of fun, but nothing I’d call worth furthering.

I made a really top-shelf decision one of the first weeks the snow had melted in Southeastern Wisconsin, and bought a motorcycle. (please, read that with a voice dripping with sarcasm) Wisconsin has this wonderful habit of showing you this little sliver of Spring after horrid Winters, tantalizing you with the idea of what the heat would bring, then utterly shitting on you with a 3′ blizzard.

It was for the best though that the thing sat under a cover in my parking garage for several months, I mean, I didn’t really have the time off to enjoy it. If the weather had been better, I would have had more than one reason to feel like shit for a $10k dumbass idea.

My work allowed me to trade vacation days in for cash, which I’d done the previous year…for my entire years’ worth of vacation…but you had to wait until after May 15th. As the day approached, I started thinking I was probably going to do the same thing this year. I really didn’t have anywhere to go, anything to do. My circle of friends had gone away with my last girlfriend, everyone else I knew was coworkers.

The second week of May was on the way when one of my coworkers stopped by my desk. “Hey, you’ve got a motorcycle, right?” I answered in the affirmative. “Well, some of us were thinking about taking a road trip later this year on our bikes. You want in?” I asked him if I could think about it.

I hemmed and hawed for a few days before answering, and when I said sure, I immediately regretted it. “Cool, we’re heading to Sturgis.”

Fuck.

Here’s the deal. I’m FROM Western South Dakota. I went to the Sturgis Rally every year growing up. Most of my family lived..STILL lives there. I had absolutely no desire to ride 13 hours over shit interstate to go to what was essentially my hometown.

Problem was, I’d agreed to it. So I was stuck.

May and June passed, the middle of July was coming and I was dreading it. I was asked if I was bringing a tent or getting a hotel room…I answered neither, I had plans.

***Advisory Warning: if you decide to go somewhere your family lives that has some festival or rally or carnival yearly, don’t tell people you know who go to that about them, your family will hate you for it***

We set out early, the guys wanted to ride out and spend the night at a slightly further than halfway point, then ride around in the Black Hills before it got congested. I knew it was already congested, but oh well.

We set out on a Friday afternoon. The plan was to get to Rochester, Minnesota and spend the night.

There were nine bikes total. My coworker Ray, one of our supervisors, three guys from other departments, and two friends of friends. The list was finished out by one of the guys from the other department’s adult son…maybe adult, could have been late teen. More than half of the guys were accompanied by wives or girlfriends.

Everyone was on a Harley. Mine was one of the newer ones, a 2003 Softail with aftermarket bags, engine mods, exhaust, and a windshield courtesy of the previous owner. Two of the bikes were brand new, but the poor kid, Rob, was on a 80-something sportster that had seen better days. Hopefully, he was young enough the ride wouldn’t kill him.

Across Wisconsin was absolutely beautiful, with almost no traffic to fight. We stopped for gas outside of Wisconsin Dells, then again on the other side of LaCrosse. We were driving into the sun on the way to Rochester and it was getting a wee bit annoying, but we pulled in before the sun went down.

We’d picked up a swath of hotel rooms, all with two queen beds. I asked Ray if he wanted to share a room, thinking since there was only a few of us without passengers it’d be nice to not have 4 people to a room. He said, “I just want to soak my ass. Oh my god.”

We got in the room and settled. Almost everyone headed to a walking distance bar for some drinks, and I accompanied. During this time, it finally came out that we were going to where I was from, and everyone wanted some kind of pointer. It was well after 10 PM when I finally made it back to the room.

Ray was nowhere to be seen in the bedroom area. I desperately had to take a leak, so I knocked on the door, “Yeah, I’m in here.”

“Sorry,” I said, “Just have to take a piss…I’ll wait.”

His voice echoed out again, “It’s cool dude, I’m in the tub. Come in and do your thing.” I walked inside the bathroom and went to the toilet. I began my business while he asked me what everyone was up to, chuckled as I answered that they were probably getting drunk tonight so that they could balance the head pain in the morning.

To say I was side-eyeing him would be an understatement. He was fairly well built. Not cut or super muscled, but slender and well constructed. His broad shoulders were resting on the edges of the tub, his close-cropped brown hair resting on the back away from the shower. A washcloth was over his eyes, but that didn’t mean I was free to check him out.

His flaccid meat lay on his left leg. It was a good 4-5″ long, slightly buoyant (lol) He had trimmed his dark hair around the area, and his ballsack dangled loosely further into the water, seemingly hairless from my angle.

I finished peeing almost too soon, shook and zipped up. I washed my hands and told him I’d be back in to wash my face and stuff shortly before bed, would he mind if I bothered him again? “Just make sure to knock.” he answered.

My duffel was sparsely packed. I an extra pair of jeans, 3 t-shirts, 4 pair of skivvies, 6 pair of socks. I also had a pair of boxers to wear to bed. I stripped off the shirt of the day, folded it. Grabbed my pants, shook them out and laid them over the chair next to the air conditioning unit with a bounce sheet on it’s vent. I pulled off my briefs and socks, folding them into my t-shirt and rolling the whole thing up, then put them in a gallon ziploc bag with another bounce sheet. I had four of those in my duffel as well.

I slipped the boxers on, knocked on the door again and heard a brief splashing, “Hold on a sec.” More rustling, “OK, come in.”

Going to the sink, I noticed that the washcloth had moved from his face to his crotch. It was also covering something somewhat cylindrical pointed vaguely at his belly button. I noticed this in a fraction of a second, because I wasn’t going to let him KNOW I noticed.

I washed my face, arms and neck quickly. I’d take a full shower in the morning, but I was grimy from the road and didn’t want to sleep like that. As I finished up, my side-glance showed me that he was still hard under the washcloth, but trying not to pay attention to it. I said good night and went back to the room.

Briefly, I thought about rubbing one out. Instead, I just rolled over, plugged my cellphone charger in and dozed off.

I don’t know if it was sooner or later, but the bathroom door opened, the light was on. It went off, out came Ray and I heard him slide into the other bed. It wasn’t a minute before I heard the soft back-and-forth sounds of him clearly trying to jack off quietly. Ah, to be young.

Problem was, I wanted to sleep. I had to be up and ride to Mitchell, SD tomorrow and my phone had said it was almost 10:30 when I set it down. I decided to just smack the elephant in the room, “In the tub AND in the bed, dude, give it a rest, save up your strength.”

He cleared his throat and coughed unexpectedly. “I’m sorry.” he said, “actually, I didn’t finish in the bathtub. It’s feeling kind of weird, like the motorcycle seat broke something, I was just worried.”

I chuckled. It was his first long-distance ride. Sometimes everything down there gets numb from the vibration and shitty suspension on his bike. “It’ll be fine, man. You’re just numb from the ride, don’t worry.” I turned towards him, “I’ve been where you are, first long ride, you think you’re going to forget how to walk, much less jack off.”

He had this sort of nervous expression, “I dunno. I can always finish man, since I was a kid. Just feels off.”

I sighed, “How about this, I’ll just blow you and that ought to fix it.” I resignedly turned back over to face the window away from him, shut my eyes and thought happy thoughts.

A rustle on the other bed. “Are you joking?” He asked, hoarsely.

I didn’t look his way, just sighed again and said, “What do you think?”

The fog of sleep had just about gotten me when I heard him slide out of bed again, the bathroom light came on and the door shut. I heard the toilet flush a minute or so later, the sink ran, the door opened and the light went off just as the air conditioner kicked on again, blowing cold air and the smell of bounce at me. I about shit myself when a voice from right in front of me said, “Were you…were you joking?”

I opened my eyes. The dim light from outside silhouetted Ray against the shut curtains, but I could see his slender build there, and make out the frame of the boxers he had on. My eyes slightly adjusted and could see that he was sticking out of his fly.

My voice came out in a sleepy haze, “If you promise to go to sleep and promise to keep it to yourself, yeah, I’ll do it.” He moved towards me, affirming that yes, he promised both of those things.

The angle of the air conditioner cooled my face even though I was only a foot or so away from him. I couldn’t see any details of his setup, even if there’d been some light, I didn’t have glasses on. I could tell that he wasn’t one of those straight-out guys, he had a curve that bent down just slightly, that he was circumcised, that it was fairly thick.

I swiveled myself out of bed and bent over to be eye level with it, rubbed my hands on my legs to warm them up and put them at the base. He was still wearing his boxers, so things were a bit logistically off, but I treated it like one of those bathroom stall quickies. I swished my tongue around in my mouth, opened my lips and leaned forward.

The first sensation I got was texture. His head had an almost fingerprint quality to it, small curves and eddies to the surface, like a tiny map. He was wider than I’d thought, not so wide I couldn’t handle it, but wider than I’d first guessed. Behind the head, his erection was smoothed from me pulling down a bit on the shaft. I moved my hand up a bit, but there wasn’t much give on the skin. He was definitely hard.

My first mouthful took me down maybe two to three inches. I felt from my grip that there was probably 2 inches more between my lips and my thumb, so I estimated him at seven inches total. I started moving my hand back and forth a bit, letting my spit get involved with my hand, which started to slicken the area below.

Problem was, the fabric was fucking with my stroking. I pulled off, “Can you lose the boxers?” He shucked them off, and when he stood back up, he was shivering somewhat. “Are you cold?” I asked, going back down onto his erection with my mouth, now able to feel his balls against the fat of my hand.

“No” he answered, “Just nervous.” I half-snorted..not easy with four inches of dick in your mouth.

Pulling off again I said, “Nothing to be nervous about man, just get this out of the way so we can go to bed.” My lips were around him again, shuttling back and forth. I didn’t want to take too long, so I started pulling my ‘make him cum’ game out. Suction plus light teeth below the frenulum, not scraping, just placing while tongue dancing on the head. Deep mouthing until he hit my gag reflex, then tongue action on the bottom of the shaft. Darting everywhere I could, jacking his base with a twist, my spit lubing the whole area up.

It worked. I heard his breathing coming very fast as he said, “I’m gonna…gonna fin…finish. I’ll tap…uh…tap…tap your shoulder to pull off.” Apparently, he’d only been blown by schoolgirls.

The first shot was indicated by his loose balls pulling tight in a split second. He tapped my shoulder, and I responded by moving my hand away from his shaft, putting it on his ass and pulling him into my mouth further. My gag reflex had numbed a bit, so I got a healthy amount of 6″ as he tapped even more furiously.

“It’s coming…better let me pull…uh…shit.” And the first shot hit my throat. I swallowed, just in time for the second and third to come rapid-fire after each other. Several more followed as I drank them down, not minding the barely-there taste of it, nor the heavy viscosity. It was very pleasant.

Above me Ray groaned “Oh God. Oh Jesus” over and over again. I kept waiting for him to finish cumming, and he kept cumming. It was almost tedious by the time he actually finished…and I felt him immediately start to go flaccid. I let him out of my mouth and wiped my hand across my lips.

Reaching down, I grabbed the shorts he’d stepped out of, “Here you go, dude. Now, back to bed?”

He grabbed the boxers, “Bed, yeah.” He slid them on and went over to the other bed. I went back to my original position, facing the window and the AC unit.

Twenty seconds later, “So, uh, are you like, uh, gay then?” Was he still going on?

“No” I replied, “I’m bi.”

“Bi” He sounded confused, “I don’t get it.”

I sighed, “It means I’m 100% straight and 100% gay, but I don’t bring it up at work, because it’s nobody’s business there, so let’s keep it between us, OK?”

“I still don’t get it.” But he didn’t ask any more questions, and a few minutes later I couldn’t sleep for another reason, the kid snored like a bear.

The next morning, I was up, showered and eating breakfast before he roused himself hardly at all. My stuff was packed and I was ready to go by the time most of my co-riders were getting themselves collected.

Our next stop was Mitchell, South Dakota. It was a bit over 4 hours away, and I wanted to get the ride over with. Everyone else seemed to not be able to get their shit together. While waiting, I got on the phone with Mom to give her an update on the trip. When I mentioned I was going to stop in Mitchell, she reminded me that a few of my old friends lived there, buddy from high school, girl I dated briefly. I said cool, and I’d look them up.

10 AM came and went, and I was finally at my wit’s end. Ray was the only one ready to go, and he had this weird look in his eye, like everyone…EVERYONE…knew I’d swallowed his load last night. When I finally had the chance to pull him aside I said, “Look, nobody knows what happened, unless you keep acting weird about it.” He seemed to slow a bit on being so overtly strange at that point.

My anxiousness fully realized, I let the spiritual leader of the group know I was going to head out early and meet them in Mitchell at the hotel. Ray, since he was also ready, accompanied me.

The ride was pretty smooth, and without all the excess folks, we ended up only having to stop for gas and not for pee breaks or smokes or (fill in the blank). We made Mitchell at almost exactly 4 hours, and I rode up the street to where my friend from High School worked, at the grocery store.

Turns out, he wasn’t in that day. Second shot was a bar in town, that’s where a the girl I dated worked. She was in.

Laura was my age, 33. In high school, she’d been rail-thin, one of the best runners on the cross country team. We’d started to hang out through friends of friends, and when we were on our second ‘date’ (a trip up to Lake Angustora for swimming) I’d let her know I was bi. It hadn’t phased her in the slightest, if anything, she thought it was cool we could make out AND talk about guys we thought were assholes.

I recognized her immediately. She was still very thin, but sections on her had filled out in the last 15 or 16 years since we hung out. The only people in the bar were a pair of old duffers sitting at the far end talking about something very engaging and a woman in her mid-40’s, a clear regular by the perfect tilt of her cigarette and the expectant way she grabbed her drink, knowing precisely where it was.

There was a seat directly in the center of the bar available then. I’d left Ray to visit the Corn Palace (it was actually his idea), with instructions to meet me here after.

Laura asked me what I would like noncommittally, and I said “Rum and Coke” easily. As soon as she heard my voice, she snapped her head over to me, “Joe? What the hell are you doing here?!” She walked around the bar, came up to me and hugged me tightly.

We started catching up at that point. She asked how my life’d gone, sympathized about my ex-wife, as she’d had an ex-husband with the same problems. Like me, she hadn’t had any children with her husband, however she’d had a kid with a boyfriend. When I asked what the situation with the boyfriend now was, she replied, “Well, I imagine he’ll try for custody in either 18 to 20, or upon parole. Why, you looking to fill the opening?”

Me being the crass asshole I was (and am) said, “Well, at least ONE opening.”

She laughed, “Oh sweetie, if I remember anything from high school, that would be part time, and neither of us would be completely satisfied.”

I laughed with her and countered, “Oh, Laura my dear, the vast studies I’ve been partaking of, high school is such a dim memory I’d probably be terrible in completely new ways.”

“Now you’ve got me intrigued,” She chuckled, “We’ll have to see what happens.”

At 3:30 PM, I got a phone call from one of the other riders in the group. They’d had a failure of the tire variety just on the Mitchell side of Sioux Falls, and were back there getting it fixed. It would push them back a few hours. As I hung up the phone, I mentally noted that they’d already been several hours pushed back…

Laura and I continued to chat through a few drinks on my part to the end of her shift, around 4 PM. She let me know all about her current living situation, with her mom and son just outside of town, but that it was only until winter when she had a job down in Houston. I laughed about that, I had an ex in Houston, I said. “I’ll do my best to not run into her when I’m there.”

Looking over my glass, I mumbled into it, “Him.”

She shot me an interested look, “Oh really?” she leaned on the bar, “you know, I always thought that was just going to be like, a fad or something. You had a thing for certain fads now and again.”

Sitting my drink down I leaned a bit closer to her, “Well, not this one. I still play both sides of the court. The only regular sexual partner I have back home is a gal named Melanie, and just last night I had this young, gorgeous thing about 7″ in my mouth, just to get him to go to sleep.” I chuckled, “So yeah, fad, no.”

“I’d like to see that!” she said finishing her whiskey sour.

I glanced at her reflection in the small bit of the mirror behind her not covered by booze. The years had rounded her bottom half, given her quite a set up top. Not as big as some I’d been with, but she could definitely fill out her shirt. I imagined it helped with tips. “I’d bet” I said, “I could probably talk him into it too. Young impressionable type, probably be very interested in getting with a gal who could run him around the room if he let a guy suck him off beforehand.”

She smiled, “Oh, so I have to run him around the room?” She poured herself another small serving.

“Based on last night, probably not. He’s a one-trick pony…but you might have to run me around the room.” I winked at her. There had been quite of bit of this overt shit, but I had an idea she would stop it here. Call the bluff, I mean hell, I’d tear her up given the chance, but I doubted she’d be into the less-than-casual. We hadn’t even talked in over 10 years, and now I’ve basically said, “Wanna fuck and watch me blow a ‘barely-not-a-teen’?”

She was off work, and I invited her to hang out at the hotel for a bit with a 12-pack, at least until the rest of everyone showed up, which I estimated to probably be close to 8 or so. I got to the room and chilled out for a few minutes, setting my stuff in the bathroom, my duffel on the chair next to the bed at just about the moment there was a knock on the door.

I opened it to find Laura outside with the 12 pack she’d picked up. I noticed two things, first that she’d picked up Pabst, in honor me living in Milwaukee. Second was that the blue button down shirt she had on was undone to the fourth button down, showing one of those standard-issue by-them-anywhere bras underneath. “I like your outfit” I said.

“I’m sure” she replied, “I’m sure you’d like it off, better, right?” she glanced around the room, “So where’s this kid at? I was hoping for something a bit more interesting, I mean, if I just wanted to bang some guy I went to high school with, Danny ‘R’ lives over in Chamberlain, and he’s been trying to screw me since his nuts dropped.”

I looked curious, “Oh, Danny lives in Chamberlain huh? Always wondered where he ended up, how is he these days?” She pushed me in the door and over towards the closer bed to the door, sat the 12 pack down on the dated mid-60’s decor example of hutch under the TV, opened it and handed me one, taking one herself.

“Comedian. You were funny in high school too.” She cracked her beer open. I heard the unmistakable exhaust of the kid’s bike outside.

I opened my beer, quickly capping my mouth over the foam that started to flood out. When I could, I said, “Yeah, but looks ain’t everything.” A second or two later, Ray came up and walked in the door.

I said, “Ray, this is Laura. We went to high school together. Laura, this is Ray, I blew him last night.” Ray looked at me like I’d just shit the bed.

“Dude!” Ray yelled, “You said you we were gonna keep that between us!” He looked like he just lost his dog.

I motioned towards the beer, then said, “Correction, I told YOU to keep it to yourself. I didn’t say a word about me keeping a lid on it.” he grabbed a beer and cracked it open, spilling some and, panicked, clamped his mouth over top of it, “Besides, Laura, of anyone, would be just fine knowing it. She’s a bartender, nobody believes shit she says anyway.”

He took a big swallow of the beer, giving it a funny look, “So Laura, you’re a bartender?”

She glanced at me, sort of like, ‘really?’ “Yes, Ray, I’m a bartender” She undid the last few buttons on her shirt and pulled it off. Once done, she laid it over the TV, checking to see it wasn’t dusty. She then reached behind her and undid her bra hooks, shrugging that off as well.

They’d grown significantly in the years since I’d last seen them, wide-eyed as a young guy thinking that there might be a top limit to how many pair I was going to see in my life. Back then, I’d been desperate to see them, now, I felt like they were a moment on the way to something more interesting. They were a clearly a large ‘C’, if not a ‘D’, and three or four shades lighter than the rest of her skin. Apparently, she went out in a 2 piece. Her areola were the size of 50 cent pieces, with small nipples, like tic-tacs, and both of them sat looking straight in whatever direction she was pointing, firm and ready.

Once her bra was on the TV she glanced at me, “What, am I a museum piece? I thought we were gonna screw around?” And started unbuttoning her pants. I stood up, shrugged off my button-down and t-shirt, then started working on my pants.

Hers hit the floor first, and as she stepped out of them, Ray felt like he needed to provide some input, “Uh, should I leave you guys alone?” He wasn’t moving though.

Laura stripped out of her underwear, a pair of blue cotton panties a shade or two lighter than the navy button-down she’d had on, “Nope, you’re staying here. I want to see Joe suck a guy off. I’ve been wanting to see that since high school.”

I glanced at him, shrugging my pants and underwear off, my just-under 6″ finally free and ready to go, “You in?”

My mouth hadn’t formed the “n” sound before he was stripping. He was out of his clothes in record time.

Laura was barely stifling a giggle at how fast he was getting out of her clothes as she came over by me and grabbed hold of my equipment. She started stroking it, just lightly using her fingers. No gripping, just sort of smoothing it. I was already hard, so this wasn’t really necessary but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

When he was completely bare, I looked at her standing next to me and said, “OK, boss. You wanted to see me suck him off? How do you want to see it?”

She knelt down in front of me, sort of fondling me in front of her face. “Lean back, on some pillows and suck him from the side, can you do that?”

Ray was already on it. He’d worked his way over to the head of the bed, grabbed all of the pillows on the one I was sitting on and propped them behind me. I put my head backwards on them just as I felt her mouth go down around the head of my cock. I glanced down to see her pull her glasses off and put them on the bureau behind her sort of haphazardly. Following that, I looked at Ray, who wasn’t looking at his dick or at Laura’s setup, he was looking at her mouth. “What do you say, Ray?”

He was only a foot or so away from me, but walked to my mouth holding himself out in front. I opened my mouth in time for him to shove himself inside fairly far, almost enough to hit my gag reflex. It didn’t, and I coped as well as I could as I felt rather than heard Laura moan around my shaft.

Ray was coming at me from my right, so I maneuvered my right arm behind him slightly, placing my hand on his ass. It caused him to jump, but only for a second. I just kept it laying there as I massaged around his head, the fore part of his shaft. He wasn’t trying to work himself in my mouth any further, so I lightly pulled his ass towards me, feeling him just a hair further.

I worked the area under his head and the tight connective tissue where it met his shaft with as much intensity as I could. I remembered from the night before he’d had a particular sensitivity there, and as my tongue flicked quickly back and forth across it, I was rewarded by the light taste of precum and a hissing exhalation.

Laura, for her part, wasn’t doing that bad. She wasn’t as good as some, but what she lacked in skill she was making up for in interest. I could tell her heart wasn’t in it as every time I started to do something new or interesting on Ray, like pulling off and moving to his side or beneath, slobbering on his balls, working the part of his shaft that met his body where I could, at those times she would pause in her work and just watch.

I moved myself to a more traditional blowjob and started using my right hand to lightly pull, then release him at a slow pace. Each time, an inch or so of his shaft would clear my mouth, giving me a chance to flick my tongue, the inside of my cheeks against a new bit of landscape. Which was what pushed him closer to the edge, “Dude, I’m getting a bit close.”

Not paying much attention to what was going on at my cock, just wanting to put on a show I definitely noticed it go chill as she pulled her head off, “How close?” She asked. A second later I felt a weight to the left of my hip, followed by one to my right and a spot of intense heat just above my navel. My peripheral told me she’d moved up, but I wasn’t sure where.

In a second, I was buried to my balls inside her. She was furnace hot and as wet as any woman I’d ever been with. So wet, that when she’d gotten all the way to my groin, I felt the slickness of her in a radius around the base of my shaft, and a dripping going down my sack.

I felt her hot breath next to my face, one hand was down holding her above me and the other, I could just feel her fingers down, right next to where the two of us met, furiously rubbing a circular pattern on her clit, “How close are you, Ray?”

Ray was close. I could feel him beginning to strain against himself, “I’m…Shit…I’m almost there.” He gasped. He was right, only seconds away, by my count. His glans had gone almost marble-smooth and the blood rushing through him felt, to my lips, a thousand beats per minute.

Laura’s crotch rolled against mine. I hadn’t really been ready to fuck her, so I found myself getting a bit overly excited. Not seconds-away, but close. She said, “When you cum, pull out and cum on Joe’s face. On his chest. I want to see it.”

I would have liked to have been part of this decision making process. I have chest hair. Cum + chest hair is not cool.

That pushed him over. He pulled out of my mouth quickly, his hand, which had been at his base for most of this, flat against his crotch went around his shaft and began pumping. The second stroke, a gout of semen shot out against my left cheek and beyond. The next one hit my neck. Several more, hitting my neck, then my left and right pectorals, with a hefty amount resting on my right nipple.

He stroked a few more drops out, and before I could do anything, Laura moved over and licked the slit clean of the white fluid. She then moved to my cheek, still rubbing herself furiously between us. As she licked my cheek clean, she whimpered and quietly whispered in an almost sing-song voice, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, oh fuck you, fuck you. Fuck I’m cumming.” and, as wet as she was, it got even more so.

She moved her hand away from my side, and pushed her chest against mine, swirling Ray’s jizz between my nipples and hers as she licked up the remaining cum from my neck and where she could reach. In order for her to continue her flicking action, she had to roll her hips a bit.

This put pressure, right at the base of my dick. Coupling that with the constant vibration of her finger on her and the flood of her moisture on my from her orgasm, I just couldn’t take much more, “OK, I guess this is my turn.” I said.

She looked me in the eyes, “I want you to cum on my tits. Will you cum on my titties?” When I said sure, she said, “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

I decided, however, I was going to need to take some charge. I assessed the situation and, grabbing her hips, pushed/rolled us over to my left. Taking hold of her hips I began, not to thrust, since she didn’t appear to be getting off on that, but instead to roll my hips along hers. I was going to finish no matter what, but she seemed to be getting way off on this.

She mewled this long moan as I rolled into her twice more, then pulled out. I grabbed myself, half worrying I’d miss and get it all over her stomach.

I didn’t need to worry. I made it alongside her, one knee by her right ribcage, the other leg extended over her as my first shot hit the inside of her left tit. She pushed them together, and my second hit the left nipple. A long string of drool helped me guide the next shot to her right one.

I couldn’t cover them like some porn shoot, but I did a fairly good job. Streaks of my semen covered her like glaze on a fresh pastry. She ran a finger through and pushed it to her lips.

“Wow” Ray said, “That was pretty…pretty fucking amazing.” I hadn’t noticed, but he’d stepped back against the small table in the corner of the room. His flaccid meat plopped stickily against his leg with a small line of post-cum between his slit and thigh.

I glanced down at Laura, who was panting and still rubbing herself, but slowly. “No shit” I answered him.

I got off from over top of her and she stood up. She grabbed her beer with no thought to the sticky mess on her chest and downed the rest of the can. I followed suit a second or two later, grabbing another one and cracking it open.

Ray went to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. On his way, I saw Laura grab her bra and, without a washcloth, a towel…hell, a wet-nap, just put her bra on over top of her slick, sticky breasts. I commented, to which she replied, “Hey, your kink is blowing other men. My kink is wearing cum. I don’t judge you.” She put her shirt on over the bra, and I could see the shirt going darker from the moisture of spunk on her. There wasn’t any judgement on my part….

By the time Ray had cleaned himself up and exited the bathroom, Laura was gone. I had my jeans on and went into the bathroom to clean the remainder of ‘us’ off of my chest, more of a chore than it needed to be. I should look into lasering the hair off.

The rest of the trip to Sturgis went off without too much more interesting happening. Ray and I never did anything else together, as the next night we were in Rapid City and staying at accommodations that put us in separate places. I went back of my own accord without any of the rest of the group.

I did stop by Mitchell on the way home, saw Laura briefly. She’d commented that it was a lot of fun, and if I had the chance and another volunteer, we should do it again. I haven’t seen her since that time, but we do talk on Facebook every now and then.

All in all, fun times.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6e4x6f/on_the_way_to_sturgis_05_mm_mmf

3 comments

  1. Sounds like it wasn’t a bad road trip after all. Great story! There’s a shortage of bi stories on here so if you have any more that you’d be willing to share, I’m sure I’m not the only one who would appreciate it :-)

  2. FINALLY a story involving motorcycles in here – aaaaaand it’s a gay story. Too bad.

    Good for you that you had fun times, though. Keep on riding (yes, a pun)!

Comments are closed.