The Babe Bike BluesChapter 2
- 4 years ago
- 21
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Don was slow to accept the idea that it was okay for his best friend to fall in love with his daughter. He discounted completely Jennifer's comment that she was in love with Bob. She was just a kid. What did she know about love?
His wife seemed to take the opposite approach, though she didn't push it. She sent Bob to get sodas, with which to toast, but that was it. When he got back, she told her husband to find something he liked on TV.
"Why?" Don asked suspiciously. "Earlier today you were complaining that I watch too much TV."
"I want to have a girl talk with Jennifer," said his wife dryly. "And, as you might notice, there's no privacy around here."
"You're the one who insisted on moving in," said Don.
"Don't be an idiot," said Bob, sotto voce to Don, making sure Susan overheard him.
"Listen to the man," said Susan. "Now, turn on the TV and turn it up loud and talk to Bob about man stuff, because my daughter and I are going to have a private chat."
Don groused while Jennifer grinned and closed the curtain around Susan's bed, but he turned on the TV anyway. He flipped through a few channels and stopped on Deal or No Deal, mentioning loudly what foxy models they had on it. He got no response, other than murmurings and whispers that were not addressed to the men.
A few minutes later he looked at Bob.
"What the hell really happened?" he asked softly.
"Don't ask questions you might not like the answer to," suggested Bob. If his friend pressed, he wasn't going to lie. This was too important, even though he'd rather never ... ever ... admit to Don what had happened in that motel room.
"Don't tell me a little hanky panky caused her to stop stuttering!" whispered Don tensely. "There had to be more to it than that."
"It was very ... emotional... " Bob let it hang there and then decided to emphasize it. "Very, very emotional."
Don frowned. He opened his mouth, and then closed it.
"Remember back to the first time you and Susan fooled around," said Bob softly.
A guarded look came onto Don's face.
"Wasn't she different than all the others?"
"What others!?" came Susan's voice through the curtain.
"We're not eavesdropping on you," Bob called back. "So quit listening to us."
"Men!" she snorted.
Don grinned. Then he frowned again. "You're right. She was different."
"It was more intense, right?"
"I guess so."
"Well it was very intense when we ... um ... talked about things."
"And you really think that caused her to stop?" Don still sounded skeptical.
"All I know is that, when we were done ... she wasn't stuttering anymore."
"Done? What do you mean done?" Don's eyes opened wide and an anguished look came onto his face. "No!" he said. "Never mind. I don't want to know."
Bob leaned back in his chair. They watched TV for a while. There was continuous murmuring on the other side of the room. Once in a while they could hear an individual word, or part of a phrase, but not enough to know what was really being said.
Deal or No Deal was over, and Don was surfing through the channels again, when the curtain was whisked back. Jennifer was standing there. Susan's eyes were closed.
"Mom's tired," said Jennifer. "We should go now, and let them rest."
"You just got here," said Don, turning off the TV.
Jennifer went over to her father's bed and leaned over to put her face in front of his.
"There are only two men in my life, Daddy. You're one of them, and I love you. You'll always be my daddy, and when you're well again, I might let you try to tell me what to do. But right now, you're not well. I want to go home, and I want you to be home, too. That's not going to happen until you heal up enough to be moved. So you go to sleep, like Mommy, and I'll see you tomorrow." She kissed Don on both cheeks and his forehead, before standing back up.
Don looked at Bob. "Kids think they know every damn thing. They think that once their parents get over forty they're senile or something."
"Oh Daddy, don't be so dramatic," sighed Jennifer.
"You know, Bob ... you're over forty, too," he said pointedly.
"Oh shut up, Don," said Susan. "Nobody's paying any attention to you."
Don got a sour look on his face. "Rodney Dangerfield had it right. I don't get no respect."
"Night, Daddy," said Jennifer sweetly. "Night, Mommy."
"Good night, sweetheart," said Susan. "Remember what I told you."
"I will," said the girl. She led Bob out of the room.
They'd been gone for three or four minutes when Don finally spoke.
"Well, how bad is it?"
"She's not stuttering anymore, darling. I can't say that's a bad thing at all."
"You know what I mean," he said.
"Don't ask questions you might not like the answers to," was her response.
In the parking lot Jennifer leaned into Bob and he put his arm around her.
"Can I drive again?" she asked.
"I guess so," he said.
"I want to feel your hands on me again."
"I think you're turning into a nymphomaniac," said Bob, smiling.
"Would you rather I stutter ... or be a nymphomaniac?"
Bob thought about it for a few seconds. "Guess you got me there," he admitted.
He knew she was enjoying herself when she passed by the motel and kept going while he fondled her breasts and rolled her stiff nipples between his fingers. All she did was go around a couple of blocks, though, before parking in front of their room. She turned the bike off, waited for him to dismount, and then put the jiffy stand down. She got off and rubbed her own breasts with both hands.
"I can't believe how horny you make me," she said, her voice throaty.
Inside, he used the bathroom and, in anticipation of what might happen, rubbed his genitals down with a washcloth. When he left the bathroom she was waiting for him on the bed, naked, on her hands and knees. She had been watching over her shoulder and, when he saw her, she waved her ass at him. She was a little awkward about it, but he laughed out of joy, not to make fun of her.
"Where is my little Jennifer ... my princess?" he asked. The effect was ruined by the fact that he was as naked as she was.
"She's around here somewhere," said the girl on the bed. "Can we do it this way?"
"You've been watching movies again," he said, wagging his finger at her.
"Just don't spank me again. That hurt."
"Why don't we work up to things," he suggested. "Do some cuddling first."
"Because I can't wait to see if it feels as good this time as it did last time," she said.
"Part of the reason it felt so good last time was because we worked up to it," he suggested.
"You talk too much," she said, rolling over. Her hand went between her legs and she began moving it around industriously.
"Okay," he said amiably. "I'll shut up. Can I watch?"
"You're supposed to help!" she panted.
He walked to the bed and crawled up on it, putting his hands on the bedspread between her knees, which she had spread as he approached. He stared at her fingers, dancing between her legs.
"Are you really only going to watch?" she complained.
"I'm checking out your technique," he said. "Remember, you're a novice at all this. I might be able to teach you a thing or two."
"Bob!" she complained.
"Like this," he said. He reached and lifted her hand. She moaned in frustration and then jumped as he fell to his elbows and forced his hands under her butt. He kissed her mons, where ash white hair fluffed. Then he slid his lips down and she gasped as he began eating her pussy with all the skill he'd developed over twenty years.
Only his strength kept her from twisting and rolling away from his lips during the three orgasms she had before he let her rest. Her cries were music to his ears, though they were sometimes hard to hear because her thighs were trying to crush his head. He knew his beard was wet and glistening with her juices and, not sure how she might react to that, took the time to burrow his face into the bedspread before pulling his hands out from under her and rising.
"I think you're ready now," he said, grinning. "Roll over, Lassie, Rover has something for you."
She was lying limply, totally relaxed after her wild ride.
"I changed my mind," she said. "I'm too tired to get up." She lifted her head and stared at him with glittering eyes. "On the other hand, I'm quite sure I need another treatment ... doctor," she said.
He crawled up, aware that she was staring at his prick, which was fully erect and dripping. He stopped as he saw a drip fall off.
"Shit," he grunted. "I have condoms in the backpack."
Her hands reached to grip his shoulders.
"Next time," she said. "Your sperm is already in me anyway."
"I want to see your father," Susan said, her voice stronger now. "And I'm so thirsty I feel like I might turn to dust and blow away." Jennifer blinked. Her face still felt hot from blushing when she realized her mother had actually heard about the masturbation and trying to get Uncle Bob into bed. But her mother's reaction threw her for a loop. She jumped up. "I'll g-g-go g-g-get a nurse!" she yipped. Wanting to see her husband seemed like an eminently reasonable and simple...
Bob wasn't used to things being muddy or vague. Most of his adult life had been spent in an environment where things were pretty much black or white. Someone was the enemy ... or he wasn't. If he was the enemy, you killed him. If he wasn't, you watched him to make sure he wasn't. A task either needed doing or it didn't. Women were either candidates for bed games or they weren't. Jennifer was suddenly very vague indeed. She was blossoming, sexually. That much was clear. Even if it was...
Their laundry was done, and they were well fed. Now, in the motel room, at only eight-thirty, neither was really sleepy. Jennifer turned on the TV and started channel surfing. As happens more often than many would like to admit, Jennifer stopped on a channel only long enough to determine what kind of show was airing. Bob saw three or four programs he would have liked to investigate further, but had no chance to as the screen changed. There were sixty-nine channels. When she started through...
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Principle gives way to hormones. It's the way of nature. Once she got him to kiss her, his resistence faded fast. She worked his pants loose and, once they were around his knees, he either had to pull them back up or take them off. Her face was serious as she pushed him down on the bed. She grunted as she pulled at his boots and then giggled as she tugged his pants legs off each leg. Her newfound comfort with all this allowed her to move forward, between his legs, and reach for the waistband...
In the parking lot she held out the key to the bike, letting it dangle from her fingers. Bob looked at the key and then at her face. He looked around, thinking about what had just happened. Jennifer's mother, who apparently knew exactly what had transpired between her daughter and a forty-two year old man, who she also knew was a renowned womanizer and party animal ... was not objecting to that course of events. At least not yet. She had said that they'd "talk more about this later." That...
Jennifer grabbed her keys and ran out to the car. She didn't want to be late to work. As she negotiated the turns to get to the accounting firm where she worked as a receptionist and general Girl Friday, she wondered for the hundredth time why neither she nor Bob had thought about taking her car to go see her parents in the hospital. And, for the hundredth time, she thanked her lucky stars they hadn't thought of that. If they had, her world wouldn't have changed, most likely. She wouldn't...
They slept for two hours and, as sometimes happens, woke up about the same time. Neither seemed to feel like talking, but the tension was gone. Lunch was quiet, too, but again, there was no strain. Jennifer seemed a little distracted, as though she was thinking so much that she forgot to eat, once in a while. And, now that she had calmed down, it just seemed natural to go from the restaurant to the hospital. Jennifer walked into her parents' room and went straight to her father. She hugged...
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When I was younger I used to ride my bike a lot. On one of my rides on the greenbelt I found a black pair of women's running shorts. Intrigued at how small and short they where I kept them. Once home I put them through the wash. Late that night I went for another ride. About a block from my house I changed into them and was shocked at how small they where on me. Like almost briefs, Plus the fact they where for women it made me hard instantly. Riding in these where awesome! My cock and balls...
For all those who missed my earlier story, you can go through the below link Here it is my new experience which happened couple of years ago with one of my office mate. She’s from karnataka, I’m from Andhra and the incident happened in Tamil Nadu. She was my office mate, looks like innocent, well reserved but she was never an innocent. We soon became good friends. Coffee breaks, lunch breaks, teasing bla bla bla. We used to chat and exchange some adult funny texts initially. One day we along...
He lay on the blanket, his interest torn between his bike and the new woman in his life as she frolicked along the water's edge. The sun glistened off the chrome of his bike and caught his full attention for a moment. A lady had once asked him why men had such a fascination with motorcycles. He had shrugged and said, "it is just a guy thing." He didn't want to say what he really thought, "it is pure, hard, unbridled power between your thighs that answers to nobody." His gaze turned to...
At forty two I disliked how out of shape I was. It didn’t help that I had just taken a job working behind a desk. I started walking, but that didn’t do much to decrease my waist size. After getting frustrated with the spare tire above my belt, I decided to buy a bike. I just fell in love with a 21 speed mountain bike with big knobby tires. After my wife wrote him a check he handed me a piece of paper and said, “There is a local group that goes on weekend bike rides. Sometimes they are long...
GayIt was the start of summer break from college and the weather had finally started to get nice out. Just before the Spring semester ended, I had overhead a couple of gay dudes whispering in the library about a cruising spot not too far from campus. They were describing the bike path that ran along the river just a little past the apartment building complex and before bus transit station. I knew the area pretty well because the bus I usually take to get home from school crosses over the bike...
The bitch on the backThe bitch on the back of my bike, she’s just some random slut. Just some middle age piece of ass that I picked up at a dive bar while I was out bar hopping with the crew. Now I’m going to take her on the ride of her life. Going to take the bitches cunt and make it mine, going to use her like a whore. You drunken bitch, you’re going to be sore in the morning. Not only with a hangover but with a raw ass and a worn cunt, Hell; I’ll bet you’ll have aching jaws. I was leaving...
It was the start of summer break from college and the weather had finally started to get nice out. Just before the Spring semester ended, I had overhead a couple of gay dudes whispering in the library about a cruising spot not too far from campus. They were describing the bike path that ran along the river just a little past the apartment building complex and before bus transit station. I knew the area pretty well because the bus I usually take to get home from school crosses over the bike...
I had been to the city for two weeks for work and there was a weekend in the middle of the tour. I actually did not have any official work to do during those two days. It was end of summer in northern part of India and you can’t imagine how hot the days usually are during those days (the mercury often touches 44 degree centigrade during day time). One of my old female friends (unmarried) of my age (about 29) was living in the same city. I had contacted her before I reached the city and decided...
Me rajasthan k ek village se middle class family se hoon.Mere ghar me hm char loge h papa mammy me n sis.Papa private job krte h . Mammi ghar ka kam karti hai. Me ba ka student hoon..Mera naam amit h .Me har chiz me avrage hoon. Achchha dikhta hoon.Meri sis ka naam geeta hai.Wo 12th me study krti hai .Ye baat 1 mahine pahle ki hai . Ek din me aur geet bazar se aa rahe the to geeta ne kaha bhai muje bike chalana sikha do to me use bike sikhane laga.Usko brake clich b race k bare me jan kari di...
I'm a child of the fifties. If you are too, you don't need much more explanation. If you're not, then it would take too long to explain all the ins and outs of a simpler age. Few owned a t/v (which was black and white with only one channel) or a car. The main thing for me was the immediacy of the Second World War; it finished before I was born, but it was still a reality that affected our lives. In some ways, it was still continuing as the Cold War. I grew up – like a whole generation – with...