Celibate Biker
Celibate Biker I’d lived in Wales for about seven years. I had kept myself to myself and many of the old passions had faded. My computer business paid the bills and the cottage on the Gower provided everything I needed. Occasionally I went over to the West Country for a run but all in all I was alone and glad. I allowed myself two pleasures in life, a set of black leathers and a huge motorbike. I loved bikes, I had always ridden but coupled with a set of well-fitted leathers I was sexually happy in my world of roads and celibacy. It was on one of my trips to England that I met Carl. I called at the Aust Services looking out on the Severn Bridge for a burger and fuel. While there I saw a young man stood on the service bridge, which crossed over the tollbooths. He looked like he was planning to jump. I wandered over to speak and an hour later he agreed to live. I now needed a helmet for him and managed to buy one from the cafe for ten pounds, which someone had left behind five months before. Armed with the lid I was now ready to carry the young and confused student home on my bike. I’d never done anything like this and my motives where simply to stop him killing himself. Anything else never entered my head; well that’s what I tell myself. I slid aboard my big Triumph and made ready for the off. A quick stop for fuel and we were heading down to the roundabout that connected the various roads. My passenger was hardly noticeable. His legs barely touched mine, he was way up the other end of the grey saddle. He probably held the pillion grab rail and wondered what the hell he was doing riding with me. The toll barrier rose as we approached, bikers go free – its something to do with money being inside the last of twenty two zipped pockets in bike leathers. The bridge company had decided years ago to stop charging and I enjoyed the privilege every time. The bright lights of the bridge always made a great sight in the evening and I held my speed. I turned after a moment to ask if Carl was shiting himself. “Can I hold you” he called out over my roaring engine. Surprised, I nodded, all his weight slid forward and his arms folded round my jacket and his hands clasped tight on my belt buckle. His knees pressed against my thighs. I was carrying him yet I now felt a sense of security and well being by his presence. My forgotten past stirred. “Ready for speed” I called out. He patted my jacket in a way I took to mean yes. I opened up the Triumph. I usually flew back to the Gower at the ton but eighty seemed as much as Carl would stand. You just know when a pillion is praying for safe keeping. I overtook and curved like a Pro and as I did so I could feel Carl becoming more relaxed. He held just as tightly but he began to trust in biker gravity. Not everyone believes the fact that a heavy bike with two big men astride it will tilt at 90 miles an hour without destroying the two bastards wanking on it. Well, I didn’t know if he was having a ‘cream tea’ but I was certainly feeling aroused. Riding the bike normally produced a hard on in my jeans. With my passenger I felt really horny. The huge motorbike alone was usually my sex thrill of an evening. Its vast muscular frame and riding position made me writhe on its grey saddle frequently. Disguised in my black helmet and leathers I usually had sex right there on the motorway in front of everyone. But of course, no one ever noticed. Even when I stood on the pegs for a moment or rubbed my balls I was just a biker. But tonight my bike was a sexual aid for the both of us and I knew that my enjoyment would be even greater if Carl explored my leathers while I rode. It didn’t look likely somehow. I thought back to when my Uncle had taken me for a spin on his big Norton. I remembered how he had playfully slapped my left leg while riding and that had made me desperate to hold him tight. I was fourteen and as green as grass then. As he roared along I had my first orgasm. I knew then I would have to become a biker. He moved to the States soon after our ride and soon lost touch with my folks. I had often wondered whether he was gay and whether he knew what his nephew had done on his pillion. Suddenly I realised that I had become him and I could do what the fuck I liked on my Triumph. I slapped Carl’s leg gently. “Like biking then do you” I yelled over the raging motorbike He didn’t answer, I wondered if he was suddenly panic stricken by my action. I thought ‘so what’ and placed my left hand on his and pushed it down on my petrol tank. Carl got the message, his fingers began to sink into the leather jeans. My dick was full and firm for his touch. I nodded, and he began to massage my swollen organ. Concentrating on my riding was momentarily disturbed but I shook my brain back into the essential craft of controlling this monster. We could both be dead in an instant, dying wasn’t on my agenda even if my passenger was planning it. I needed this bike’s speed and strength for the promised orgasm that was moments away. Perhaps orgasm at the moment of death might be the ultimate checkout. I was far too good to let that happen. My riding and sexual hopes now combined in my head so I accelerated hard. My leather kit suddenly felt very sensual. Carl became tighter in holding my jacket with his right hand and more frantic, no more determined in his massage of my jeans. I could feel him very close on my back and my butt told me that I could feel his bulging dick - but I have never been sure whether that is possible when fully clothed on a bike. Anyway he lost his rhythm and I knew he was masturbating. I dropped my left hand to his jeans and squeezed tightly to highten his pleasure. My bike was at the ton but I am sure I heard him cry ‘yes’ several times above the roar. Returning my hand to the handlebar, I now increased engine power. Carl writhed against me and I in turn writhed against the motorbike. The passenger’s right arm held on to my cold leather jacket with great strength. My junction for home was rapidly approaching but I wasn’t dropping out warp drive for anything now. Everything was coming together, the riding, the sexual arousal, the feeling of sharing the bike with another man turned on by tight leather and engine speed. I could do anything and I felt great. I was only an instant now from orgasm. Then a truck ahead of us pulled out forcing a van to swerve into the outside lane. Instinctively I closed down the throttle and began touching the brakes ready for more vigorous stopping power. ‘Fuck that’ I thought twisting back the throttle. I cut a dare-devil path between the truck and the van blaring my horn as I blasted out of the impossibly narrow passage. With a grin wide on my face my dick exploded in my leathers. Hot cum shot onto my leg and the feeling of release and total power overwhelmed me. The bike rocketed forward between my boots. I kept the power on all the way to the next junction. A tight set of manoeuvres at the roundabout put us back on the motorway for home. I fingered the two drivers who had tried robbing me of my orgasm. The Trucker blew his horns and shook his fist. as he lumbered along the opposite carriage way ‘Bastard’ I thought and immediately determined to go round again at my home junction and burn him off. We did. The bike returned us to the spot in what seemed seconds. I slowed momentarily to stare at him in his truck. We must have looked like a fly next to an elephant. But all of us knew I had vastly superior speed to power ratio compared to his old truck. He actually smiled, and mimed twisting his right hand.. I took Carl back to my cottage. The student was soon stroking my jeans and jacket while standing in my kitchen. Eventually he stroked my whole body while I sat on a stool still in my leathers and boots. That night we held each other in bed for hours before falling asleep. He’s been with me ever since. I got him a set of leathers and he rides my pillion; masturbating wherever we go. And the guy who rides a Triumph, well I have never had such damp leather jeans. And I have never enjoyed a trip to the shops like I do now with my bike and Carl, my leather slave pressed tight to my back. Our kind is everywhere. Many of you will have seen us having sex on our bikes while you sit impotent in your cars. Ha!!!
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