0 comments/ 38474 views/ 2 favorites Harley Heaven Ch. 1 By: Grease Bunny There is something about riding a Harley that makes me real horny. I don't know if it's the vibration I feel between my legs, or just what. A real rush. Right, me. Captain of the cheerleaders. Now a biker chick. But I won't ride in a pack. I ride alone. Nobody can keep up with me. I always had a nice bike. I started with a little pink tricycle with streamers on the handlebars and moved on to a red, white and blue two wheeler with training wheels. When I was twelve, my grandpa, much to the chagrin of my mom, started me on dirt bikes. Then was I was fourteen he let me ride the real stuff. His old Indian which still runs and his Harley. Since I was eighteen I have had my own Harley. Several of them. For Christmas this year my grandpa gave me his old Harley. His eyes are very bad now and he hasn't ridden for years. Poppy just sits on the porch in his rocking chair, smoking hash in his corncob pipe and listening to Frank Sinatra. The old Harley he gave me was in need of much work, so I hauled it on my truck on over to Spike, the Mr. Fix-It Harley Man. "Spike," I said, "I'll be back in a couple months when the weather breaks. Get it ready, dude." The first week in March there was one somewhat nice day. Cloudy but fairly warm, at least when the day began. I thought, what the fuck, should I play golf or go get the bike. The bike won. Spike has a used Harley shop on the outskirts of town. He is the master of rebuilding and reconditioning. Spike is also older than dirt. Not as old as Poppy, but pretty damn close. Spike's wrinkled and tanned skin looks like well-used leather. Quite fitting for an ancient Harley dude. And his scraggly hair and beard, notwithstanding the constant sexual innuendoes, make me think of Spike as an old goat. If Spike ever touched me you know where I think he would just croak and he knows it. A man who knows his limitations and isn't that just a first. That's why Spike mostly just likes to watch. He likes to watch me play dress up and I put on a real good show for him. Why not? You should have seen what he had been doing to the Harley I was about to drive out of his garage. Spike's latest Harley project of course was the 1951 Panhead which thanks to Poppy now belonged to me. Spike was dumb enough to ask if I could deal with the suicide clutch. I knew I was still his numero uno Harley Honey when he chuckled at my response, "If Peter Fonda did OK in 'Easy Rider' why not me? The names of your Harleys like Panheads, Fatboys and Knuckleheads are meant to correspond to the IQ of your typical biker dude. Panhead, the motor cover looks like an upside down pan. Duh!" Actually, if Spike would have extended the forks a few more inches and did more chrome and some stars and stripes you got the 'Easy Rider' Fonda ride. I pointed out to Spike that the '51 Panheads were actually safer than the '52's, the first year for the foot shift and hand clutch. I started to explain the problems with the shifter rod and lever. When he said, "Oh, shut up you smart ass bitch!" I knew he was going to let me take the bike without paying him anything. He didn't want money. He wanted a show. I had my Harley duds in the bag I brought with me. What Spike liked was not the taking it off part. It was the putting it on part. So I shucked off my 'regular' clothes real fast. I had my back to him. First I slipped the black leather thong over my feet and pulled it up slowly. It was very snug so I'm doing a little wiggling to get into the damn thing, 'er I mean thong. And Spike couldn't resist a jab, "Make that you are a smart FAT ass bitch. I guess you been hitting the milkshakes pretty hard since the last time I saw you." I like to show to show a little leg when I'm cruising. Just adds to the fun. I also like to ride topless on occasion and I don't mean without a helmet. Not that I want to cause accidents or anything so I pick my spots. My favorite scene is pulling up to a gas station and pumping my gas topless. Then I walk up to the door, stare at the "No Shirt - No Shoes - No Service" sign, whip on my shirt and go in and pay. Next I put on the garter belt with the six inch wide lace at the top and the black seam that runs all the way down the back of the mesh stockings. I heard a sigh from Spike and I still had my back to him. Then I turned around to give him a gander at my breasts in this getup. But the dude was staring at my feet! Is that what happens when you suffer from limp dick syndrome? He didn't pay the slightest attention to my upper half so I slipped on the black leather mini-dress quickly. He could still see what seemed to be of greatest interest to him. I was about to put on my favorite Chippewa 17" lace up motorcycle boots. They are most comfortable and when you get them off at the end of the day, you are really in the mood to have your toes sucked and the bottoms of your feet licked and massaged. And Spike would have to say, "Please don't put your boots on yet. You have the most exquisite feet I have ever seen." I was smelling another deal here so I said, "Would you like to feel them?" He nodded as drool ran down his chin. "I'll tell you what," I continued, "You give me some lunch money and I'll let you play with my feet. But for five minutes and that's it. I'm watching the clock over there. Absolutely nothing else because I don't want to be responsible for you dropping dead." Spike reached in his pocked and gave me a handful of bills. So I let good old Spike play with my feet. He was quite the tootsie connoisseur and a couple decades ago I bet he was one hell of a lover. Spike loved the feel of my feet over the mesh stockings and bit and licked just a little. I was actually getting turned on when the five minutes ran out. Good thing because I didn't think he could finish what he started, at least not alive. I bid Spike adieu and hit the road. I was wearing a leather duster and a helmet but I could feel it getting colder. When it started pouring I was more than fifty miles from home and getting very wet and cold. And I could hardly see. So I pass this little country bar and I see a couple Harleys parked outside. The crooked sign over the door said "Harley Heaven." So I did a U and went back. I walked in and at first I'm sure they couldn't tell I was a girl. Had the helmet with the shield still on and my hair in a ponytail. I was standing at the end of the bar and they couldn't tell I was wearing a dress. I took off the helmet and my leather duster. Slipped the rubber band off the ponytail. Talk about tongues hanging out. I was the only girl in the place and from the look on their faces you would think they never seen one before. They walked outside and admired my ride. When they came back in we talked bikes. The leader of the pack, called Scorpion, asked me how I liked his Fatboy. He was quite impressed when I responded, "1993 custom built Fatboy. S & S rods and pistons, Edelbrock hand ported heads, Sifton 141 cam, PM 4-piston rear caliper, Lepera bare bones solo seat with gel pak, Merch performance case, Truett & Osborn flywheels, Dyna 2000 ignition and single fire coils, Pro-1 billet forward controls, Avon Super Venoms." Scorpion was so impressed he gave me a nickname. "Honey," he said, "You are the Grease Bunny." My clothes were like soaking wet and I was freezing. They did have a wood burning stove in the place which was helping somewhat. I took off my wet boots and put them by the stove. The bartender dude says we got a dryer in the basement if you want to dry your clothes. What am I going to say, "Duh, I love being cold and wet?" So I said get me something to wear. He was a really big dude and he got me this heavy flannel shirt that came down almost to my knees. But I was smart enough to say, "Dude, you don't put leather in a fucking dryer. Please just hang my stuff by the stove." He did, all except for my panty thong, which he tied around his neck and kept sniffing. I started playing pool with the biker dudes and they are real cool, buying me shots and stuff. And I'm winning! And they got a satellite dish and are watching MTV. And I did a little dancing to the music to distract them. Hey, I was betting all the lunch money Spike gave me. I got this charley horse just as I'm trying to sink the eight ball and started screaming. Well, not screaming screaming, more like screaming moaning. Scorpion sat me up on the pool table. And he began to massage my calf. And the inside of my thigh. It wasn't hurting there but it still felt incredibly good. The pain went away but he didn't stop and I didn't tell him to. He started to lick and bite my toes. And he did the inside of my knees. You should have seen the tongue on this dude! When he got to the inside of my thighs I was like ready to do the screaming moaning thing again. And then he stopped. And then he stopped! I felt like screaming "No!" as in "No! Don't stop." And he said, "You are one bad ass chick and do you know what we do with bad ass chicks in this neighborhood?" I think I shocked him a little when I replied, "Take them home to meet Momma?" So he pulled me off the pool table and stood me up and then bent me over with my arms on the table. I was playing along, he wasn't hurting me or anything and I was still thinking about that tongue. He said, very sweetly and seductively, "You are getting your bad ass spanked bitch." But he didn't do the spanking. The other biker dude, Homer, did the spanking. Nice name for a biker dude, 'eh? Homer. Scorpion knelt down between my legs and stuck that incredible tongue in me. Every time Homer would give me a smack, Scorpion would stick the end of that tongue right on my clit. I lost track of how many smacks I got, but the "punishment" ended when I squeezed my thighs on Scorpion's face and squirted all over his beard and moustache and right in his eyes. The bartender and the few others in the place were watching all this. Not that I cared. Just happy nobody had the camcorder rolling. Scorpion demanded, "Get the lady a shot and a beer." Oh, so now I'm a lady instead of a bad ass chick I was thinking. I downed the shot and took a sip of the beer and eventually quit panting. I was like very naked here, you may recall. And not caring much. I was swigging the beer and Scorpion was playing with my nipples. And driving me crazy again. Once I get off the first time I'm real easy the next time. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. About the same dimension as his tongue, relatively speaking. And he put my hand on it. And he put his finger inside me. So we were both getting quite, well, frenzied. Homer unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock and put my hand on his. He started biting the back of my neck and nibbling my ears. Not very well I might add. Needed lessons I guess and I dunno why he didn't pay more attention to the Scorpion dude. Some guys just never learn. Scorpion lifted me up on that pool table, pinned my legs up in the air with his arms and stuck that huge cock inside me. Homer got up on the table and knelt behind my head and stuck his cock in my face. Only one rational thing to do. I opened wide and let him fuck my mouth. The worst part was that both of them kept talking. They told stupid joke after stupid joke. Why Harleys are better than women jokes. Like "Harleys don't get headaches; if your Harley is too loose you can tighten it; if you get your Harley dirty, you don't have to apologize before you ride her again; you can ride your Harley as long as you want and it won't get sore" and on and on and on. Homer came first. He seemed a little over eager and not much of a woman pleaser. Liked to get his taken care of mostly I think. He made a lot of stupid noises and when he was ready he thrust down my throat as far as he could and then pulled out and came all over my face. I think this turned Scorpion on even more and he pounded inside me even harder. And then I came. Well, I couldn't help it! And Scorpion knew I did and he pulled out and jumped on the table and stuck his cock in my mouth and I thought he was going to cum really quick but he stopped. I looked around the bar and every other guy in the place was jerking off. Scorpion demanded very emphatically, "Roll over bitch, get your ass up in the air and start squealing like a pig!" I wasn't about to argue and did what he said. Face down on the pool table, resting on my elbows with my butt up in the air. He grabbed my arms and pinned them behind me. My head was lying on the table. I felt like a rag doll. He kept sticking that big cock further and further up my ass. And it hurt! I knew I had to put an end to this soon so I started squealing like a pig. This really turned Scorpion on and he kept pounding and pounding up my ass. Finally! I thought he was having an epileptic seizure when he came and then he collapsed right on top of me. And then the sirens blared. Would you believe these biker dudes were volunteer firemen? They rushed out and jumped on their bikes and headed for the station. The only one left in the place was the bartender dude. I put on my dry clothes. He said, "Girl, you get a free lifetime "drink and eat free pass" to Harley Heaven. Please come back soon." I nodded and split. I'll be going back when I'm in the mood for some more real good spanking. Only thing that bothered me, those two dudes never even kissed me. Story of my life. Fucked but not kissed. Where has all the romance gone? If you find it let me know. Send all comments about this story to grease_bunny@hotmail.com. Harley Heaven Ch. 2 I had practically been begging my best girlfriend, Blondie, to get with the biker babe scene. I told her over and over about what happened at Harley Heaven and the dude with the incredible tongue, Scorpion. She liked the spanking part. I could tell because she lifted up her skirt and slipped her hand down the front of her panties. Yes, and when I told my girlfriend about the nickname Scorpion gave me, she called me Bunny from that moment on. She never liked me calling her Blondie all that much or telling stories about her foibles and blond escapades. Finally Blondie agreed to go with me to Harley Heaven the next Friday night for happy hour and the Spring Hog Party that Scorpion had e-mailed me about. What she would not agree to do, however, was to get on up behind me on the '51 Panhead or ride my other scoot, the cobalt blue pearl year old XLH Sportster 883 Hugger. Perfect girl's bike for those who aren't used to big old hogs. Blondie said she would go but insisted she would follow me in her car. "Yeah, OK Blondie. We'll park your car down the road and make believe you road with me because you trashed your scoot when you were riding stoned. Now that we have decided we are going to the Spring Hog Party at Harley Heaven, we need to get you properly dressed for the occasion. You know Spike, the mechanic I told you about? Well, not only does he have a bike shop, he sells biker duds in a leather shop next door. Actually, his son runs the clothing business but I'll get Spike to open the doors for us after hours." "Bunny," Blondie replied hesitantly, "I don't like have hundreds of dollars I feel like wasting on some outfit I may only wear once. You know I'm saving my money to gamble away in Las Vegas next month." "Don't bullshit me, Blondie. You're going to Vegas with your boss. He'll be paying for everything, and I do mean everything. Besides, Spike probably won't make us pay for any of the stuff. That is, if you let him watch you try everything on. He likes to watch. He's too damn old to do anything else." "Well, I dunno, Bunny. I did want to do some topless dancing but you talked me out of it." "Damn right I did. That was different. That place was two miles from your parent's house. Duh! Nobody will know us at Harley Heaven. We can get real wild and crazy." "OK, Bunny, I'm game. I trust your judgement." Spike, of course, was more than happy when I told him I wanted to bring my girlfriend over to get some biker duds. He was even happier when I described her. Spike preferred blondes and if they were beautiful, leggy and packing 38 D's, he preferred them even more. "Hey, Spike, what's up?" I greeted him a hug as we entered Spike and Son's Lewd Leather Emporium just about midnight. "The Panhead is purring! Talking about purring, this is my best buddy Blondie." "Hello Ms. Blondie." Spike could barely talk he was so impressed. In a way I am reluctant to take the girlfriend anywhere because the dudes hit on her before they do me. Oh well, she is fun as hell. Spike continued his stuttering at my pal, getting as close as he could without standing on her feet. "My pleasure I am sure, my dear. You are very pretty. What beauty pageant did you escape from?" "Hey, thanks, Spike. You are making me blush!" Blondie kissed him on the cheek as he fingered and smelled her blond locks. "By the way, her name," and she pointed at me, "is now Bunny. Don't call her you know what any more." "So what exactly do you need, my dear?" Spike asked in a tone that said whatever it was, she was going to have it. "Everything Spike," I interrupted, "the whole works and quit flirting! We got to turn this classy lady into a down and dirty biker babe, and quickly." "I can do that," Spike responded nodding his head like a woodpecker. "What should we start with?" Blondie unsnapped the front of the Australian oilskin waterproof washed back canvas duster I had lent her. I mean, I didn't want her looking like a total geek going to pay Spike a visit. This duster looked like a snowmobile suit except much more comfortable. The girlfriend had been wearing a tweed skirt, matching blazer and cream silk blouse. Great outfit for corporate America but zilch in the biker and leather underground. What I had to do for the girlfriend to get her to change into something more appropriate for the visit to Spike. And I buy her a vibrator every year for X-Mas. There wasn't much under the duster that covered almost everything until it came off except for, well, undergarments. Blondie was wearing only a stretch mesh string bikini and matching demi bra. She was bulging out a little on the bottom and a lot on the top. "Uh, uh, uh," muttered Spike quite dumbstruck, "what color is that skimpy outfit?" "Wildcat Blue, Mr. Spike. Matches my eyes doesn't it? Bunny is wearing the same getup almost. We bought them when we went shopping at the mall, Victoria's Secret, a couple weeks ago. I might point out, however, that the color of hers is Honolulu Melon and the size of her top is 36 C as opposed to mine which is 38 D. Not important, just trivia, but here I'll show you." She slid the adjustable straps off her shoulders and unfastened the back close. "Uh, uh, uh." That was all Spike could muster. He was beginning to sound like a broken record. "Oh, fuck you, bitch!" I screamed in jest. You are always bragging about your tits. Hey Spike, find her something quick to cover up those slut puppies with, will ya?" "Uh, uh, OK. Here's a little something you might like." He pulled a black leather vest off the rack. It had a full collar, lapels and front zipper closure so one could show as much cleavage as one wanted. Blondie tried it on. "Awesome!" Spike cried. "Here are some matching leather shorts." Blondie slipped off her Wildcat Blue mesh string bikini and flung it at Spike. He sniffed it and began making panting noises. He couldn't help staring at Blondie's neatly trimmed triangle that matched the hair on her head. "Duh, duh, da, daaang girl, you got some long legs," was all Spike could sputter as his eyes continued to focus on that particular center of attention. "Spike," I had to add as a precautionary measure, "you are foaming at the mouth. Now settle down a little bit here, boy. We don't want to be doing CPR on you, ya know." "Why not?" Blondie asked demurely. "I think he's kinda cute. I find older men incredibly attractive, full of wit and wisdom." "Shut the hell up, Blondie. Spike here is older than dirt. One step away from a nursing home. He couldn't get it up with enough Viagra to kill everybody in Las Vegas." "Yeah, Bunny, I still say he's a cutie!" With that she pinched his cheeks and tickled his beard. She slipped on the leather shorts and did the zipper in back. "Hey sexy, how much for the vest and shorts?" Spike's eyes were rolling in the sockets and his tongue was hanging out like a very hot and thirsty dog. "For you, doll, nothing, as long as I can keep the panties and bra you wearing." "Hey, no problem Spikeroo, sounds like the real deal to me although I don't think they will fit you very well. Oh, by the way, you might want to wash them before you put them on. I been wearing them for two days. My washing machine is on the blitz." Spike took another exaggerated whiff of the panties he stuck right under his nose. "I don't think that will be necessary. They smell just fine to me." "OK, Bunny, what else do I need?" "Some chaps, girlfriend. They are like, well, open in both the front and in the back. Show her, Spike." He fetched the black leather fancy fringed chaps. They had a front buckle and zippered sides which were obscured by the fringe. Braids hung from the waist of the open rear. Blondie slipped out of the leather shorts. "I want to see what these look like without anything underneath. "Talk about showing some ass and some beaver," I snickered. "No need to get naked and cold. All you got to do is bend over." "I think she looks lovely in the chaps," Spike offered as he glared at me. At this point Spike was about to give it all away for free, and no doubt he was hoping we would do likewise, if only he were twenty years younger. "Here Blondie," he insisted, "you need these." He slipped the Bugz Tazar goggles with the silver lenses over her ears and adjusted the EZ Rider helmet on her head. The boots, however, took an infernally long time to dispense with to dispense with as I knew they would. She picked out a pair of 12" Euros with the double buckles and it took Spike considerable effort to get them on her feet, due mainly to the fact she wiggled and yelped like crazy while he was sucking her toes and licking the soles of her feet. Blondie then picked out a nice pair of fingerless mesh gloves with leather palms. Before Spike put them on her, he began to slowly suck the middle finger of her right hand. "Yum, yum, good. Where has that finger been, girl?" Spike inquired hopefully. "Let me assure you, Spikeroo, some place warm and juicy. Here, I'll show you. All this leather is turning me on." Blondie lowered her hand into the large opening in the front of the chaps and stuck that long finger Spike had been licking right up inside her. When she pulled it out a few moments later it was definitely glistening. "Here, Spike, a treat for you. Taste it." He did and made a face like I did the first time I tasted caviar. "Who's that knocking at my door? Who's that knocking at my door? Spike, man," I blurted, "are you frigging deaf? There is somebody at your door. You better go see." "Yeah, I'm sure it's my grandson, Woody. He comes over every night about this time to clean the place." Spike let his grandson in and Woody looked at us like he was looking at "Penthouse." "Hey," Woody remarked excitedly as he stared at the opening in the front of the chaps Blondie was wearing, "you babes are hot! What beauty pageant did you two escape from?" "That's the same thing your grandfather said, Woody," I chided. "Did he give you lessons on how to win friends and influence girls?" "Yeah, right," Woody boasted, "I talk the talk and walk the walk when it comes to chicks. They call me the 'Babe Magnet' in school." "What school?" Blondie asked sarcastically. "Kindergarten?" "Woody, run out to my truck and get my tool box," Spike ordered. When Woody had walked out, Spike explained, "Please don't mind him. Just your typical horny teenager with a big mouth. He has never had sex with anything but his hand. I'm the one who talks to him about the birds and the bees. His mother is a holy roller and my son is a wimp. I promised Woody a real woman for his birthday next week, to break him in right and teach him all the right stuff. Hey, would one of you be interested? I'd pay you whatever you asked." "No way!" we both spat at him in unison. "Well, do you know anyone who would be interested?" "Maybe," I replied, "but it would cost you a grand, Spike. But she's worth it, very beautiful, and discreet and safe, if you get my drift. I doubt I could get you a discount, Dominique doesn't negotiate the fee for her services, but I probably could talk her into letting you watch." "Yes! I like that idea. My grandson gets his first piece of ass and I get to see it all. Please, Bunny, arrange it. In the meantime, when Woody comes back in, could you give him a little T & A show, like you do for me? Just to sort of tide him over until next week when he meets up with your friend Dominique. Pretty please? If you do, Blondie can have all the stuff she already picked out for free and she can also take one of those leather jackets on the rack in front." We looked at each other, shrugged and nodded. I spoke first. "OK, we'll let him put the tattoos on us." "The tattoos?" Spike asked. "Yeah, Spike," I responded, "biker chicks need tattoos. Ours just happen to be fake and you can't even hardly tell." "Bunny, he can put the tattoos on you," Blondie corrected. "I didn't say I was doing tattoos." As soon as Woody came back I unbuttoned my denim shirt and took it off. Next I removed the Honolulu Melon demi bra. "See Spike, what did I tell you?" Blondie joked. "Her melons are smaller than mine." She unzipped the leather vest so Woody could offer his opinion. "What do you think, Woody?" Spike and Woody were speechless. Next I wiggled out of my jeans, leaving me in just the mesh string bikini. I sat on a chair and beckoned Woody to come near and kneel in front of me. "Woody, put this butterfly tattoo right here on my left breast." I leaned over and stuck the boob in question right in his face. "Incidentally, these tattoos last about a week and are quite waterproof." "No, Woody, not on my nipple!" I screamed at him. "Over here. Geez!" I grasped his shaking hands and helped him. We could really notice the huge bulge developing in Woody's pants. "Woody, you got a woody!" Blondie joked. "Well, let's see the dang thing. Pull it out. Let's see what the 'Babe Magnet' has to offer the babes." We were both duly impressed but of course didn't say so. Woody did have quite the woody. We weren't about to stroke his already over-inflated ego. But then Blondie began to stroke his already over-inflated something else. "Woody," she cooed, "you need both hands to put the tattoos on Bunny. I'll take care of that woody for you." "Here, Woody," I instructed, "put this dolphin tattoo right here on the inside of my thigh." He was going wild right about then and his squirming under Blondie's touch made it clear he was eager for a little faster hand action than her slow stroking and fondling. And then she began to talk. "Woody, we already know you are a virgin. Spike told us. But just for another week until your birthday. So tell me, hasn't anyone ever sucked your cock?" "Uh, uh, no, not yet. But I think I'd like that." "Yes, I'm sure you would, Woody. You mean to tell me that none of those cute little cocksucking cheerleaders at your school ever gave you a blow job?" "Uh, uh, no, not yet. But I think I'd like that." "Yes, I'm sure you would, Woody. What if I put your cock in my mouth, Woody, would you like that? You have a nice woody, Woody. What if I, well, maybe I'll just show you. Would you like that Woody?" "Yes, ma'am, I surely would." "Oh, what the fuck?" I couldn't help interrupting, "now he's getting polite?" "OK, Spike, here's the deal," Blondie stated dramatically, "I'll suck your Woody's woody now and fuck him silly next week on his birthday for the grand. Bunny, why should Dominique make all the money? Besides, you did those biker dudes at Harley Heaven just for fun and you'll probably do it again on Friday night. I mean, what do you really think a Spring Hog Party is all about?" I hung my head in mock shame while Spike ran and got the money before she changed her mind. "Stand up, Woody," Blondie demanded. I burst out laughing. "It looks to me like woody is already standing up." Blondie began to nibble and lick the head of Woody's woody. Then she slowly deepthroated him with one hand caressing his balls and with the other hand playing with his bum. His knees began to buckle and he was very unsteady. "OK Woody, we better get you off your feet before you collapse. Bunny, tell me again how that goofball biker dude Homer fucked your mouth." "I was on my back being stuffed by Scorpion and Homer knelt behind my head." "Can you do that, Woody?" Blondie asked as she relaxed on her back on the plush oriental rug on the floor. "Yes, ma'm!" he replied eagerly and did it. "OK, Bunny, now you pretend you are Scorpion. You got that toy in your purse? I know you are usually packing something for dull moments." I pulled out the Double Dick Vibrator, popped in the two AA batteries I had just bought and began to give Blondie a buzz while I nibbled and licked the insides of her thighs through the open crotch of the chaps. She controlled Woody's woody with her hands so he wouldn't cum, at least not until she had gotten off due to my ministrations. She had a nice whimpering and moaning orgasm, not one of her yelling kind but not too bad. I then used Double Dick on myself as I watched Blondie finish the job. "Hurry up!" I told her. "Spike doesn't look too well. I don't know how much more of this watching his dear old heart can take." "OK, Woody, you heard her. Hurry up now, honey," Blondie purred. "Now you can fuck my mouth hard. Go for it!" Woody did what he was told. In about what seemed like a minute later he pulled his woody out of Blondie's mouth and shot loads of cum all over her face and into her mouth which she kept wide open. He didn't make much noise which is true of most teenage dudes who are so used to secretly jerking off fives a day but he did have a cute look on his face, like a puppy dog who just got petted. "Woody, did you like that?" Blondie cooed. "Yes ma'am and thank you, ma'am," was all Woody could muster. "Don't call me ma'am. Next week on your birthday you will call me mistress." Blondie looked at me, winked and whispered, "Like I said, all this leather is turning me on." I knew then we were ready for Harley Heaven and the Spring Hog Party. But I was still feeling sad. Blondie kissed his woody but Woody never kissed her. Where has all the romance gone? If you find it let me know. To Be Continued...