by Kalpana Kali
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EROTIC STORIES OF THE
MODERN INDIAN GIRL:
BILLIONAIRE’S BIKER BABE 1
Kalpana Kali
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Copyright 2015 by Kalpana Kali. All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written consent of the publisher. (Exceptions for reviews and education purposes. And if you are using it for education purposes, we really want to know what class that is.)
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons is coincidence.
ISC: AKK-S005-B0011.SBB
MODERN INDIAN GIRL:
BILLIONAIRE’S BIKER BABE 1
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Every single orgasm in her life, Lila had achieved while speeding down a track on her bike, the engine screaming between her clamped thighs, the handles sending vibrations all the way to her spine and nipples.
Her very first sexual peak had been on an old Honda 115 dirt bike soon after she graduated high school. Lila still remembered the moment. That university asshole, Lochan Seeram, was racing her up a hill where the jungle met the village. He was a good, smart rider, but such a bully. Because of him, Lila had needed to be near perfect to gain acceptance with the other guys who had turned their local back road into a weekend racetrack.
Even when she finished her best races, coming third or fourth, he’d flash that infuriating grin of his and say things like, “I told you women can’t ride. You should be at home learning how to take care of babies.” Or he’d use his pet name for her, which she hated. “You’ll never win until you learn to ride something bigger, Bright Eyes. Maybe you can start with my cock.”
She was winning that day, though. Lila had gotten lucky and his fancy new bike had suffered a clutch failure near the start line, slowing him. With careful riding, Lila was way ahead of the crowd, but Lochan had gotten his machine working again and had nearly caught up.
She could not bear the image of his smug face if he beat her. Of all the men she knew, he was the only one that made her feel something in her gut. It was mostly hate, but there was more—a sense of vulnerability that made her queasy and got Lila’s adrenaline rushing.
The top of the hill was where Lila knew he would make his move. He liked to cut that corner harshly, taking the inside track since the other riders arced wide in the sand. Lila steeled herself, deciding she needed to be daring just once. With him right on her tail she rolled her wrists and lowered the throttle before twisting into the turn. For Lochan, it was either slam into the back of Lila or pull away wide, struggling through the rough edge of the road to get back behind her. He had a muscular upper body, so he was never the best at recovering control.
Immediately, Lila’s thighs flushed at her success. And the heat grew as she gunned the engine full blast.
It was all straightaway now. The sand gave way to grainy concrete and they had two thousand feet along the old airstrip to the finish. Lila’s blood pulsed and her eyes hurt from concentrating. Her thighs trembled and her breathing got shallow. Racing had never felt this good. She watch Lochan gain on her in the mirror and her nervousness only fed the gathering ball of strange pleasure in her.
It exploded as she hit the finish line half a length ahead of him. Struggling to control the bike, she rode through the orgasm, savoring the thrill in her pussy while screaming out loud.
When Lila pulled in to the stunned crowd, Lochan was watching her, his smile still there and arrogant as ever. She had wanted him to be defeated.
He said, “Seems I bring out the best in you, Bright Eyes.”
“Fuck you. That was all me. You just don’t know me like you think.”
“Sure,” he said dismissively. “We’ll see about that next time.”
But there was no next time. Lochan left for graduate school in America. Lila left for the city right after.
As for the motorcycle orgasms, they were there to stay.
***
All the men watched Lila as she walked into the garage. Cut off jeans and a tight white tank top drew that kind of attention on a body like hers. But she wasn’t trying to provoke anyone. She just dressed to stay cool in the Bangalore heat.
“You’re late!” Govinder shouted. He was the team boss.
“Meetings bore me.”
“This was important. We just got bought out.”
“You get bought out every year,” said Lila, walking up to her bike. She smoothed the cool leather seat with a hand, already thinking ahead to the next race. She had joined Govinder’s team two years before, instead of going to university and was already one of the top riders in the Bangalore Bike League.
“This time is different,” said Govinder. “The new man is making changes. He says he wants us to win. He’s put his own mechanic on the team and fired Nandram. He says he might even fire you if you—”
“You let him fire our mechanic? Who’s going to set up the bike the way I want? Now I’ve got to teach some dunderhead lackey from scratch and—”
“Actually,” said Govinder, his fingers twitching, “Um, the mechanic is supposed to decide what set up you use on the bike from now—”
“No way in fucking Hell! Where is this stupid kukarchod?”
Govinder pointed to the other side of the garage where a figure was leaning under the bonnet of the team truck. His torso was hidden as he bent over, showing only muscular butt under oil-stained khaki work pants.
“Hey you!” Lila strode angrily towards him. “Get your head out of there and listen to me so I can set—”
The man stood with a slow grace, his back flexing, and then he turned to reveal a familiar face. Lochan smiled and said nothing. He reached for a rag and firmly wiped his hands clean, his sweaty, grimy, biceps and chest muscles rippling.
Lila said, “You...” but she could add nothing else.
“Well, hello there, Bright Eyes. Little early in the day for you to be so angry isn’t it?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m working. Your boss pays me money if I do.”
For the first time since she joined the team, the other men in the garage had a laugh at Lila’s expense. She glared at them until they got serious.
“I don’t care who owns the team now,” said Lila sticking a finger in his chest and unintentinoally touching the wetness there. “I set up my bike the way I want.”
“I don’t take orders from you until you sign the paychecks, Bright Eyes.”
She swung around and marched toward Govinder’s office. She tried to look confident, but her muscles were trembling with that old adrenaline looseness and her mind was screaming, Oh God, I have his sweat on my finger. I have his sweat on my finger. She had to make an effort not to wipe it or even look at it.
“Who’s this new owner?” Lila said when she had Govinder behind a closed door. She looked out the office window at Lochan who was explaining something to a junior tech at the computer. He still had not put his shirt back on.
Govinder said, “All I know is he’s some billionaire. He’s only dealing with us through lawyers.”
“Billionaire?”
“Yeah.”
Lila looked at Lochan and a suspicion crossed her mind. Suppose he was the one who— No. Lochan’s father was a wealthy doctor but he wasn’t rich enough to buy up race teams on a whim.
Besides, Lochan had been kicked out of graduate school after a year. Last she had heard, his parents had disowned him. That explained why he was working as a mechanic.
“Look, Lila...” Govinder was nervous.
Lila watched Lochan. Two years of mechanic life had buffed him out. He’d let his hair grow long too, past his neck—somehow dark and silky amid the careless ruin in which he kept the rest of his appearance: torn pants; worn, unpolished boots; his strong jaw unshaven for at least three days.
“Lila,” said Govinder, his voice rising to a rare tone of authority.
“What?”
“The new owner says he wants you for advertising because you’re sexy and you’ll look good on billboards, but you’re no good to him if you can’t even win one race. He’s going to fire you at the end of the season unless you do.”
“That’s just two more races! And he wants me to do it without my mechanic.”
“That’s his orders.”
“I’m a good rider,” said Lila.
“You finish second and third a lot. You don’t have any wins.”
“Yet.”
Govinder smiled. “Then you and the new guy better work out your issues.”
There were four techs in Govinder’s garage and they all seemed to have fallen under Lochan’s spell, just like the old days when he had turned the village racing club into the Lochan Club for Making Fun of Lila.
“You,” she shouted at him as she walked out of the office, “come over here and let’s talk about my setup.”
Lochan made a quiet joke to the others and while they laughed he lazily stood and strolled over to her at the bike.
“You’re not going to last long if you don’t do this work,” Lila told him.
“I already know your bike’s specs and what needs fixing.”
“How much fuel does it take?”
“12.6 liters.” Lochan walked closer to the bike, placing his hand on the curve of the tank.
“Brake system?” said Lila
He stepped a little closer and said, “Triple caliper disks. Yours are too large.”
“Bullshit,” she said, struggling not to retreat. “What’s the turn radius?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He was practically touching her now.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re too submissive to ever max it out.”
“Too what?” she said through clenched teeth.
Lochan looked down at her. “You’ve always been good at fronting like a boss, yelling orders, but you ride like a timid little bitch.”
“I ride perfectly. I don’t-”
“Technically?” he said, sitting on her bike and bringing himself to eye level, “Your riding is amazing. I saw you two weeks ago when you had that fight against Shankar. You let him pull you to the turn with his draft and then blew right by him. Textbook.”
“Then what’s all this submissive crap?” Lila tried to look him in the eyes, away from the still damp chest and firm, rounded shoulders. It was hard to bear his gaze.
“You were fighting for seventh that time,” Lochan said. “When you had to pull that same move against Haramdar for the lead, you knew he wouldn’t just let you sit there behind him. He’d play dirty. So you hit the brakes too hard and the draft didn’t pull you along enough. You missed first place.”
It was true. Lila could admit that to herself even if she did not say it out loud. She argued, “That’s just the heat of the moment. Once I’m settled in—”
“No,” said Lochan softly, looking right at her. “Strong men scare you, Bright Eyes.”
The garage had gone silent. The techs were listening over their shoulders as they worked.
Lila smiled. “I remember I beat you the last time we raced. I guess you’re not a strong man.”
“Funny thing about that,” said Lochan, playing with the handlebar of her bike, his voice still cool. “I remember it clear as yesterday. You knew I was coming at you and, because of that, you had to pull something bold. Any other guy, you wouldn’t have feared them enough.”
Lila was flabbergasted. “You’re taking credit?”
“You won that race for me,” said Lochan. “Because I always push you to do good.”
“You bullied me.”
“It’s the method that your mind responds to.” Lochan dragged his fingertip through the sweat on his chest then stroked upward along Lila’s chin with it. “A strong man has to make you do what you need to do.”
She grabbed his wrist and pulled down on it, but he was too strong. She couldn’t make the arm budge and he was now holding her chin in his palm. Lochan locked eyes with Lila and the intensity made her pull free. Ashamed of her defeat she flicked her long hair defiantly.
“Listen to me, “ she said. “I don’t care what bullshit psychology you think you know, you rig the bike the way I set it in the computer. Not a single change.”
“Okay,” said Lochan turning to leave.
Lila smiled to herself at putting him in his place.
“Oh,” he said, turning back to her, “One thing, though...”
Before Lila could react, Lochan grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to him. He pivoted to pin her ass against her bike and bent her waist back so that all the leverage went out of her muscles. Tightening the grip on her wrist, he grabbed her hair behind her head and kissed her hard.
At first, Lila was too stunned at his strength to stop his tongue sliding through her lips. The skin up and down her torso seemed to glow with heat in reaction. But then her mind reacted with outrage. How dare he put his hands on her! She clamped her lips shut against the probing tongue, but he released her wrist and grabbed her crotch instead, cupping her cleft and squeezing.
Lila involuntarily moaned and went rigid in his arms as Lochan’s touch awakened electric pulses in her body. God, everybody was watching. How could he do this to her in front of the whole crew? How could she let him? And she had moaned, as if she liked it.
She tried to push him off and got nowhere. The arm at her back kept her from wriggling away as it pulled her close to his broad chest. With his lower hand, Lochan reached two fingers under the leg of her shorts. Lila kicked his knee and still got no reaction. It was as if the strength had abandoned her body.
Fear rose up in her now. What was his intention? Surely he didn’t mean to commit a crime in front of all these people? She tried to shout out, but he was still covering her mouth firmly with his.
The two fingers at her thigh worked their way along the skin stroking over her panties down the outside of her pussy lips. Lila’s knees went weak and her body stopped resisting. Her mind was too busy coping with the sensations to think about whether she really wanted him to stop. Lochan reached under the panties and stroked up just inside the line of her slit and ended with a flick of the fingertip against her clit.
Lila gasped, the intensity of the whole incident putting her on the verge of an orgasm despite its suddenness. Her mind groaned, ‘no’ when he pulled his hand right back and walked away without a word.
‘What was that?’ she wondered in shock. ‘Why am I acting like some slut just because he touched me?’
She spent the rest of the day avoiding Lochan and his techs. She studied the race plan inside the office and only came out once to check that they were indeed prepping the bike to her specifications.
***
Race day was always a good day for a bike orgasm.
Lila would wake up before her alarm on those days. But, today, for the first time, she second guessed herself. I’m a twenty-year-old virgin who only gets off on her bike. What’s wrong with me? By the time she walked onto the tarmac in her Nomex racing suit, however, her swagger was back. She was a modern girl, a woman with no need to please any man and she had the right to live her life as she wished. And the only thing she’d ever wished for was to be a champion rider.
What did she care about men? Even men with hard muscles and dark eyes and long flowing hair that seemed to know just how he
r brain worked?
The first chance she had to pass another rider after the lights went green, she took it without checking if it was a safe move. She was steaming over Lochan’s comments about her being submissive and needed to show him her fearless side.
The race continued like that and Lila ended up hanging in third much earlier than she thought she could. Now she had a good, long chance to fight for the win. Already the heat of an orgasm was waiting to burst through when she made her move. And she was not going to wait. She was not going to be submissive while the other riders pushed into her lanes and kept her out.
They rounded into the straightaway with the two lead riders a half length ahead. The unspoken threat was that they would sandwich her if she tried to pass and it would burn too much time to try swinging around them.
‘Fuck it,’ she said to herself and hit the gas. The bike strained under her as she edged forward. Each rider wobbled themselves into her path, but she refused to veer away. Holding her nerve, she pushed the bike even with them, then blasted ahead as they slowed for the turn. Lila should have slowed too, but she was trying to prove a point. She let the bike skid a bit through the turn, the danger only accelerating the onrush of her orgasm. As she settled into the race lead, it blossomed and—
And the back wheel locked up, sending the bike into a skid. Lila controlled it to the edge of the roadway and fell into the dirt as she let go of the bike.
***
She stood under the water of the shower, having lost track of the time.
The race doctors had cleared Lila with no real damage, but her right shoulder, left knee and both ankles were sore as fuck. She had ridden in the flatbed with the broken bike back to the garage then sat with angry thoughts inside the office until the crew left.
She had been winning. Lila had proved herself to be as aggressive as the race demanded. Now some mechanical fault had messed it all up. Tomorrow, she’d double check Lochan’s work and spot the mistake he’d made. But first Lila needed to get clean. After she grabbed a slice of pickled mango from Govinder’s desk jar, she took a towel from her locker and stepped into the crew’s shower cubicle.
