RIPP. Knock out one guy for being a douchebag, and the girl by your side decides you’re not suitable for her to continue any form of a relationship with, including casual sex. Knock out another douchebag in front of some random unknown girl, and she is so turned on she wants to fuck you almost immediately.
Trying to predict women’s likes, dislikes, desires, turn-ons or turn-offs was impossible. I decided I was just going to try and fuck them all, and the ones who agreed would be in for a nice little session of pierced cock heaven. Fuck trying to figure them all out. That would be impossible.
I’ll leave that up to Shane.
“If we knock this motherfucker over, I’m gonna be mad as hell,” naked, I stood and stared at her as she lay sprawled out over the back of my motorcycle.
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t tip over,” she smiled.
“You’re gonna make sure? What do you weigh? A buck ten?” I asked dryly.
“Huh?” she asked as she nestled into place, her head draped onto the rear fender.
“What do you weigh?” I asked, not really caring to know the answer.
“Oh, a hundred and fifteen, why?” she smiled.
“Just wondering,” I really didn’t give two fucks what she weighed.
Her smile looked strange with her head halfway upside down. I felt like I was starting to get dizzy from breathing the motorcycle’s exhaust. I blinked my eyes a few times to clear the fumes from my drying out orbs. As her head shook back and forth on the fender, I looked the bike over - to make sure it seemed stable.
As long as I had been riding, I had never fucked anyone on a bike, running or not. After the fight, the waitress from the bar got onto the back of my bike for a quick ride. Almost instantly, she fell in love with the vibration of the Harley as we rode around downtown. After taking her back to the bar where she worked, she retrieved her car and I followed her home.
After a little persuasion on her part, I agreed to fuck her on my bike with the engine running; in her garage. She insisted the garage door be closed so the neighbors couldn’t see what we were doing. The small single car garage with a running bike in it was now full of exhaust fumes, two naked people, and a wad of clothes on the floor. She was lying on the bike with her feet on the floor, her back on the seat, and her head slung onto the back fender with her mouth hanging open.
“So are you dominant?” she asked.
“Are you fucking serious? Look at me,” I responded as I pointed my index fingers at my chest.
“I am looking at you,” she giggled over the sound of the exhaust as her head wobbled from the fender vibrating.
I really wasn’t in the mood for stupidity. I suppose if I picked up some immature waitress from the bar who is willing to fuck me just because I beat the shit out of a dude while she watched, I shouldn’t expect a biochemical engineer.
Naked, I stood behind the bike in my Chuck’s with my cock in my hand and my eyes watering. I looked at her, rolled my eyes, and started stroking it.
“No, I meant look at me as a person. My personality. My appearance. I’m two hundred fifty pounds of tattooed muscle,” I stroked my cock as I walked closer, “I knocked out a dude at the bar, remember? I am a boxer.”
“I knew it. I knew you were a Dom,” she blinked her eyes as stared at my cock.
Oh that’s what she meant.
A Dom.
Fucking women. I swear.
“Open your fucking mouth,” I demanded in my best impersonation of a Dom.
“It is…” she began.
I interrupted her half way through whatever she intended on saying by shoving my cock in her mouth. Standing behind the bike with my knees bent, I began to fuck the waitress’ mouth. I closed my eyes to relieve them of the burning from the exhaust. After four or five good strokes, I opened my eyes and looked down. Something about watching my cock sliding in and out of a woman’s mouth had always satisfied me.
Her eyes began to water, and her mascara ran from her eyes onto her forehead. I would like to think her eyes watering had been a result of my big cock in her mouth, but it may have very well been from the motorcycle’s exhaust. As I continued to punish her mouth, I reached forward and grabbed her neck in my hands.
She wants a Dom, I’ll give her one.
I’m not a Dom, and other than talking to a few friends who dabbled in it, I knew nothing about it. It seemed these days it was what every woman believed she wanted. Shane and I had talked about it and laughed, knowing Kace read a lot of books about dominance and submission. I had joked with him several times, saying Kace was going to require him to one day become her Dom.
Master Shane.