Biker Babe
Copyright 2011 by Penelope Rivers
ISBN: 978-1-61829-033-5
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or book reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by New Line Press
Cover by Fantasia Frog Designs
Biker Babe by Penelope Rivers
Lynette had always had an attraction to motorcycles. They were sleek, they were sexy, and they were powerful. Once, when she was walking by a black Ducati, she swore that she came straight into her pants despite the fact that the rider was a fifty-something man with a beer gut and a tattoo. If a man had a bike, then to her, he was instantly more attractive.
It was unfortunate, then, that everyone had always classified her as the resident good girl. Ever since she was small, she was known as naïve and innocent. It was as if she had some sort of magical “innocent” power. She walked into the locker room, and the girls stopped talking about their “good times.” She went on a date, and she had three hours of arm’s length walking to enjoy.
But little did the world know that Lynette was a bad girl, a very, very bad girl.
At the age of thirteen, she had read through, every single sex book in the library. She had hid them underneath her bed when her mother wasn’t looking; that way, her parents who were actually naïve and innocent and didn’t know. She didn’t have a problem with sex, but it seemed that sex just had a problem with her.
That was why, as she walked home from her shift at a local restaurant at the age of twenty, she practically started salivating as she caught sight of the man in the parking lot. He had a night-black motorcycle that she would be writing into her dirty diary about later, and how he had dark black hair and day growth on his chin. When he smiled, his eyes glowed a bright green and sparkled. He was like what he rode: sleek, sexy, and powerful. She wanted him. She wanted him bad.
Immediately she imagined herself shaking out her brunette hair, which was long and curly, as she straddled the man before her. She would do all of the sexy dance moves that she knew, working out her long, lean body in a way that no one else thought that she could. Oh yes, Lynette was ready.
As she ogled the bike and the man riding it, he swung his leg expertly over the side of it and headed inside to the restaurant. Damn, she thought. I wonder if my boss would let me wait on him, just him. I would give him a meal that he wouldn’t forget. She looked behind her, making sure that he was out of the perimeter. She really wanted to touch that bike, so when she broke out her special toys tonight she would know exactly what to imagine.
She went to the bike, straddling it like the man had done, and looked both ways. I shouldn’t do this, she thought, but no one is around. She shut her eyes, imagining running her fingers up the fine muscles of the man that had been astride the bike. He was so sexy, so hard, and was all man, just like she had always wanted. It would be sweaty, sexy, and...
Her eyes shot open and a blush filled her face. The biker man was back. Maybe she had made a mistake and he had only gone inside to use the bathroom. Mouth dropping open, she stumbled off the black motorcycle and almost fell over. He was still staring at her, not even a trace of a smile on his lips as he took her in. As much as she had imagined being with him, she knew that it wasn’t a possibility now. He obviously thought that she was a complete moron.
“I’m sorry,” she said, flushing.
“Yeah,” the man said, walking over to the bike and putting a possessive hand on it as if she had transferred her goody-goody germs. “Well...”
Before she had time to say anything else, he took off toward the road with an expert click of the heel. She watched him leave, still blushing, while feeling sick to her stomach. Maybe tonight she wouldn’t be giving her special instrument a test, after all.
As she looked down at the oil splotch on the floor, she felt her stomach curl at the idea of public humiliation and a tingle electrified her clitoris as well. She was due for a public spanking, a very public one.
She hopped over the splotch and went home, her mind already on her special stash.
***
She was driving down the road with her music blaring when it happened, it, being that her car spluttered and produced foul smelling gas into the air, putting her Uncle Hubert to shame. Swearing loudly, she pulled to the side of the highway and ignored the cars that honked at her as she did so, giving them the finger from the safety of the inside of her car.
As she came to a full stop, she pressed her head against her steering wheel and started yelling, “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”
It was of course, the one day that she had not charged her cell phone; the one day that she had been in such a hurry that she had forgotten pretty much everything except for her wallet. She checked her watch. There was no way that she would make the concert now, even if a magical mechanic fairy appeared out of nowhere and fixed her engine.
Just in case, she waited for a moment and peered around hopefully. Nothing! A girl can dream, can’t I? she thought. Stranger things had happened, especially in her tiny Southern town.
As she got out of her car, resigned to her fate, she kicked the wheel and took in the rusted exterior. She half wanted to leave the damned thing there. It was the third time this week that it had broken, which was why she walked to work, even if it was a mile away. She chewed her bottom lip, wondering whether she was going to have to flag down a total creep, before she heard a vehicle come to a rest behind her.
It was a motorcycle, a big, masculine, powerful one, judging by the sound. Was this the moment that she was waiting for? The moment that she screams out to the world, “YES, I AM ACTUALLY A PERVERT OF EXTREME PROPORTIONS!” while raping her savior? Maybe, just maybe. She whipped around, a big smile on her face, when she was met with a very cynical stare, the same one that she had seen in the parking lot approximately five days ago, which had spurred on her new fetish of publicly embarrassing oral sex.
“It’s you,” said Lynette quietly.
“Yeah, well,” the biker man said, swinging his leg over the back of his motorcycle and approaching her and her car. “Don’t ask me why I stopped for you. Any person that touches another man’s Harley deserved some serious reprimanding.”
Lynette drew herself up to her full height, which at 5’3” was pathetic, and said, “Well, mister, maybe you should get over that, okay? It wasn’t like I was going to steal it.”
“Then what were you going to do with it?” asked the man, raising an eyebrow. It was so sexy that Lynette almost wet herself. Head out of the gutter, she thought, shutting her mouth hastily. Now is not the time to be doing this.
“I was... I’m in the market, that’s what,” Lynette lied. “I liked the model and wanted to know how it felt.”
I was really imagining the way that you felt, she thought. I wonder what he would say if I asked him if I could take his body for a test drive.
The man was smart a
nd didn’t act as though he bought it. He said, “Well, if you’re driving this piece of junk, it’s no wonder you want something new.”
After that, he walked around her car and popped the hood of the engine before she could say another word. Maybe she should have been offended that he had taken such authority without asking, but honestly, she was just too grateful that he was helping her. She was a mechanical failure. The most that she knew about cars was stick the key in and twist. If it didn’t work then, the world was damned.
“Holy shit,” said the man, looking at her from a sea of black smog. “Why haven’t you taken this car in? If cars had beds, then this one would be on its deathbed, it needs serious help.”
Lynette sniffed. “I don’t make that much money at the diner. I’m trying to save as much as I can to move to the big city.”
The man snorted and muttered, “Baby, a girl like you wouldn’t last a week out in the city. You would be eaten alive.”
She had a stupid slip of the tongue, one that she would curse herself for a second later. She murmured, “Well, maybe it’s about time that somebody did.”
The man stopped what he was doing for a moment, giving her the once over as if he couldn’t quite believe that she was real, before he went back to looking over her car. Instead of checking out her car’s engine, she wished that he would be giving her engine the once over. He looked as though he knew his way around both types. Stop it; she reprimanded herself. For God’s sake, your car is broken. You should care about that.
“Well,” the man said, slamming down the hood of her car, “I hate to break it to you, babe, but your car is dead. Now, I’m going to do you a huge favor and let you ride back with me on my motorcycle.”
She shot the car a loving look, and thought, Screw everything negative that I have ever thought about that car before. The idea of being able to ride that motorcycle and wrap her arms around this man’s waist was worth the five hundred dollars that she had spent for the dumpster on wheels. Already, she was practically dripping wet. Her fingers would be inches away from his...
“Babe, babe!” said the man loudly. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about when you get those misty looks on your face, but it’s starting to freak me out.”
“Sorry,” Lynette said quickly. “Ugh, I’m Lynette.”
The man shook his head in exasperation. “I’m Ty. I would say that it’s nice to meet you, but I’m not sure...”
Rolling her eyes and ignoring him, she excitedly approached the motorcycle and started salivating. She intended to use this trip for everything that it was worth. She was going to squeeze herself so tight against Ty that he was going to have to pull her away like gum from a shoe. Heck, he already thought that she was a freak, so it wasn’t like she had anything to lose. As far as she was concerned, she was going to draw the line at dry humping and that was it.
Ty walked towards the motorcycle, swinging his leg over the side, and waited for her to do the same. She approached excitedly, practically leaping on, and grasped onto his abs so tight that her fingernails were clawing him. Immediately, he started the engine, and she could feel heaps of horsepower vibrating through her legs. She was in heaven. Maybe she had accidentally hit a bus or something, and now this was her version of the afterlife.
“Babe, death grip,” Ty said, flying into traffic.
Still, she did not relax. Her fingers massaged the shirt, trying to cop a feel of what was underneath. She looked down, seeing that his penis was only a mere few inches away. It would be so easy to touch him, just like she had always wanted. If only they weren’t out in the middle of public with cars flying around them left and right, If only she wasn’t so much of a coward.
As the cars flew by, so did the images in her mind. She could imagine him ravishing her slowly, his tongue all action, his hands greased. It would be so wonderful.
“Where to?” asked Ty as they drove, completely oblivious to the fact that Lynette was in the midst of entirely sexy internal intercourse.
“Take a right at the next exit, and then head left,” said Lynette into his ear. Her breath was a barely audible sexy whisper.
All the things that I can do to you, she thought darkly as they drove her hair whipping around her.
Ty did as she said, turning right at the next exit before heading left into a small cul-de-sac. After that, he dropped her off at her parent’s home, a small, two-story yellow house. Currently, no lights were on and it looked as though they weren’t home. Yes! she thought, turning around to face Ty, who was idling in her driveway. This is my chance to seduce you, to make you beg, to, no! Oh, Shit!
In the split second that she had been plotting her evil deeds against Ty, he had already begun to drive way. He yelled, “Later, biker babe!” over his shoulder as he did so. It felt like a billion times before, and now, like usual, she was standing in her front yard so horny that it hurt and squirming like a five-year-old faced with a cookie jar.
She slumped her shoulders, preparing to head inside to introduce herself to one of her “special toys,” when she tripped over one of her father’s misplaced sprinkler heads. She swore underneath her breath before she got a full look at it, and a very sinister idea popped into her head.
The sprinkler head was the rounded sort, and it was already partially sticking out of the ground. In all actuality, it wasn’t all that different than the kind of toys that she used on a daily basis. It most certainly wasn’t any bigger than her favorite one, which was as large as a stallion’s.
She looked both ways, checking to make sure that her neighbors weren’t watching her before she stripped off her black lace panties. This was why she was grateful for her ugly waitressing outfit that, while the worst color combination possible, had an open easy-access bottom. She knew. After all, during her fifteen-minute breaks at work she liked to do fun things with the kitchen food. It was amazing what a cucumber alone could accomplish.
“Come to mama,” she purred underneath her breath, straddling it quickly.
After that, she began to stick her fingers inside of herself, feeling the wet, sticky interior there. She helped ease the sprinkler head inside of herself before she shut her eyes. Already, she was with Ty, riding home with him again, but different.
She was straddling him from the front, thrusting up and down on top of him as the wind licked her cheeks repeatedly. A chill filled her, and she pumped harder, eager to get as much pleasure as possible. Her eyes rolled back with pleasure as she forgot where she was.
“YES!” she yelled to the air, pumping and thrusting and touching her breasts and her clitoris. “PLEASE! HARDER!”
Just when she was about to cum, she was hit hard with cold, wet liquid that filled her up on the inside. She let out a shriek of shock, tumbling to one side, leaping upwards and dancing around as water and her body’s natural lubricants flowed down her legs.
She was still dancing when she heard the neighbor call out, “What’s that ruckus, Hector?”
A male voice replied, “Nothing much, Margaret. Just that crazy girl next-door doing weird sex things again!”
The last thing that Lynette heard as she scuttled inside was the sound of someone getting smacked and an, “OUCH! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO HIT ME! I WAS JUST WATCHING HER!”
As Lynette shut the door, breathing heavy and blushing, she checked her watch. It was two minutes after ten o’clock. That meant that the sprinkler-timer must have gone off at ten.
With a very wicked smile, she trotted off towards her room, thinking, I’ll time it better tomorrow.
Thank you for reading this short story by Penelope Rivers. We hope you enjoyed it as much as we did! Be sure and check out more of Penelope’s hot stories at New Line Press.com.
About the Author:
Penelope Rivers
Penelope Rivers is a bestselling author of erotica, romance novels and short stories. A hopeless dreamer, she spends her day thinking about all things fantasy, romantic and hot. It is her view that when you start choking on the o
ccasionally dry bread of life, you need something sinfully delicious to chase it down with. Currently, she lives in Utah with an abnormal amount of pets.
By Penelope Rivers
Biker Babe
Love Bites
Captain Drew
Mr. Clean
Fireman Dodge
Dr. Perfect
Eyes on You
The Naughtiest Student
Lollipop Lick
Meet the Men of “Lust at First Sight” Series by Penelope Rivers
Dr. Perfect by Penelope Rivers. Roger both loathed and loved Dr. Matt Ryan. Ever since he could remember, his parents have said: “Why can’t you be more like Matt?” It is only when he discovers that Dr. Perfect wants to do perfectly lusty things to him that he realizes being in hate and in love isn’t such a bad thing after all. One evening, Dr. Perfect asks Roger to go for a ride that ultimately changes Roger’s life forever. 3,773 words/26 PDF pages. ISBN: 978-1-61829-008-3.
Biker Babe Page 1
