Softail Curves III (5 page)

“Maybe you should warm me up, daddy,” I replied.
Dutch stood up and slipped his belt from his jeans, peeled off his t-shirt, this one with two half-naked girls suggestively posing on a bike, and then unbuttoned his jeans. “Get naked,” he said.

I moved to the center of the bed and took off my clothes as Dutch slipped out of his jeans and underwear.
Dutch didn’t come to bed, however. He started looking around at the boxes he’d moved earlier. “Where’s the sex toy box?” he asked.

“That’s full of books, remember?” I said enjoying the show.
Dutch walking around naked, his hard body on full display was rather arousing. Seeing him bend over and move boxes was even better.

“Oh yeah, what box were they in?” Dutch asked.
I pointed it out, the one labeled “bedroom.” He opened it and dug around until he found what he was looking for. It wasn’t a vibrator. It was a plain black dildo. It was rather large and Dutch wiggled it as he came to the bed. “You’re a dirty girl,” he said.

“I thought I was until I met you,” I said as Dutch settled between my legs.
He didn’t waste any time running his tongue up through my pink folds and over my nub. Dutch could do that all day. I spent the last week becoming hornier since I stubbornly denied myself any pleasure the last time Dutch and I were together. Thankfully, packing and moving kept my mind occupied but I wondered if he was going to let me come tonight. Was it weird that part of me didn’t want him to?

Dutch slowly ate my pussy and it had the desired effect.
As my blood got pumping, I went right past warm to hot. I moaned and writhed as Dutch held my thighs and pleasured me with his lips and tongue and stared up at me with his intense blue eyes. God, I felt like I could come only looking at his eyes if I tried hard enough. I took the dildo and began to suck it giving Dutch a little show. His hand disappeared between my legs and a finger slipped into my wet hole.

“You like that thing?” he asked referring to the dildo.

“Mmm hmm,” I replied without taking the fake cock out of my mouth. Honestly, I’d never used the big black dildo. I bought it on a lark. Dutch curled his finger and massaged that special spot. I arched my back as a wave of intense pleasure stole my breath but I didn’t climax.

“Fuck yourself with it,” Dutch said and pulled his fingers from me.
I slipped the dildo out of my mouth and slipped it into my drenched pussy. I enjoyed the toy, not as much as I would have enjoyed Dutch, however, and let a climax build within me. Dutch climbed next to me and kissed me.

“I want to watch you for a while,” Dutch said.
I knew nothing I said would change his mind so I put on a show for Dutch. Soon the dildo was a blur and my fingers tormented my hot clit. Dutch watched me go crazy, caressing my round breasts and my soft flesh. I wanted to come so badly but I loved holding off if only to please Dutch. Hell, who was I kidding? I loved being denied. It was hard but when I finally came, it felt oh so good.

I’d never
denied myself like this though. I found I could bring myself closer to the edge than Dutch could when he was in control and soon I was shuddering and shrieking as I slowed the dildo and my fingers to let myself balance on the precipice. I looked at Dutch, hoping on one hand he would let me orgasm and hoping he wouldn’t on the other. What a delicious game. The anticipation was delicious. Then Dutch pushed my hands away as he climbed between my legs, pulled the dildo free and sank his cock into me.

I screamed and he began savagely
pounding my wet pussy. I tried as hard as I could to keep from coming, but Dutch wasn’t helping me at all. His thrusts were insistent and powerful. I couldn’t keep myself from having an orgasm for long if he kept it up. Suddenly, Dutch took the dildo and pushed it into my mouth. I eagerly took it as he fucked my lips with it. Oh God, that wasn’t helping.

After a few intolerable moments, I turned my head and asked,
“Can I come, daddy?” I was sobbing and shuddering. Dutch didn’t say a word, didn’t change his expression. His eyes just stared into mine. Fuck! Was I supposed to deny myself or could I climax? Not knowing was frustrating but I’d be lying if I claimed it wasn’t thrilling at the same time. I was fighting with myself, one part of me desperate to let go while another was determined to play this game. Dutch, if it was possible, fucked me even harder. I greedily went back to sucking the dildo, savoring the dirty scene.

It wasn’t long before I couldn’t take it any longer.
“Daddy, I can’t stop myself,” I finally said. Dutch didn’t respond. He was doing it on purpose. Was he testing my resolve, daring me to go against his wishes, or was he trying to make me come despite my determination not to. I could hardly think any longer, my resolve hanging by a thread. Then it broke and I slipped over the edge. I fought it for a moment, but as the climax exploded within me, I was powerless before its strength.

I screamed as my body went rigid.
Dutch’s cock swelled and I knew his orgasm was imminent. He didn’t stop his powerful thrusting as I enjoyed a satisfying, almost too satisfying, orgasm. Dutch ceased to fuck my mouth with the fake black cock and he slipped his arms around my neck. I wrapped him up in my arms and legs, my nails digging into the hard sinew of his back. I shrieked and wailed as a relentless wave of pleasure ravaged me.

My muscles began to ache as the
y flexed and my body clenched. My pleasure had a life of its own and I was just along for the ride. Then Dutch went rigid and he grunted. His orgasm flooded my wet pussy, his cock throbbing with each spasm. I could only sob as Dutch finished inside of me and then finally went still. I was literately shaking as the amazing sensations rattled around inside of me. Dutch held me tight but he began to laugh.

“What?” I managed to ask though my voice cracked as I did.

“Damn, you’re stubborn,” he said and then kissed me.

“You never said I could come,” I replied.
He just laughed. I spanked him playfully. He kept me off balance and I loved it. I never knew what he had planned. Sometimes Dutch was too quiet but at times like these, I preferred fewer words and more action.

“
I never said you couldn’t either,” he told me. I guess he didn’t. Then why was I so eager to deny myself?

“I think I like that too much.
I’m doing it to myself now,” I said and laughed. Dutch smiled at me.

“One of the many reasons that I love you, Shauna,” he said.

“I love you too, daddy,” I replied and then added, “I’m so glad I don’t have to leave to go home...ever.”

“The place feels more like home with you here,” Dutch told me.
He climbed from me but only to turn off the light and let us slip under the covers. As we lay there and I curled up with my back against Dutch, he asked, “Do you like your job?”

“Huh?” I answered.

“Do you like what you do for a living?” he repeated.

“Not really.
It pays the bills. Why?” I asked.

“I need someone to run the office.
I’m getting busier and I can’t do it. I thought maybe you could help out,” he offered and I turned around in his arms.

“You mean quit my job?” I wondered.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind setting your own hours and being forced to sleep with the boss,” he replied.

“The setting my own hours part sounds nice, but the place is a motorcycle shop.
The boss is probably some kinky biker type,” I teased and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re an excellent judge of character,” Dutch told me.
I hugged him close.

“Thank you.
I’d love to help you out,” I said seriously. Dutch hugged me back.

“You can sit around and drink coffee all day for all I care.
I just want you with me,” he said. I reached down and softly spanked him. I relaxed and let him hold me. I waited but it never came. No fear, no self-doubt, just a sense of peace and a feeling as if I was where I belonged. We fell asleep together, the first night of many, many nights we would fall asleep in one another’s arms. However, I never forgot this first time.

>>O<<

We settled on a date for the wedding, only a few weeks away. The Oasis would be the venue and it would be full. Bikers seemed to like a wedding, or maybe it was just the chance to throw a party. In any case, the bar would be packed to the rafters. I couldn’t wait but I had a lot to do. You don’t walk into a bridal shop and buy what I wanted to wear, so Sheila and I hit up a couple of motorcycle shops, lingerie stores and even the hardware store. We were of the same mind but Sheila had a lot of ideas for accessories and details I never would have thought of.

As the
big day approached, I spent my last days at my old job and then the next week getting set up in my new office in the front of Dutch’s shop as well as making last minute plans for the ceremony and the reception that would follow. We had a guy hauling his barbeque, the big kind you tow behind a pickup, to feed all of us and making sure the bar had plenty of cinnamon whisky, beer and Kahlua. It was fun but I was nervous.

Dutch’s mom was going to be there and so were my mom and dad.
Calling them and telling them about Dutch and the wedding was hard. Neither was exactly thrilled I was marrying a biker they had never met, but they both promised to give him a chance. Dutch’s mom, according to Dutch, was thrilled and couldn’t wait to meet me. I hoped that part of the wedding went well but I decided I couldn’t do anything about it and didn’t worry about it.

Since Dutch hadn’t asked me to marry him in the traditional manner, we went together to pick out rings.
Dutch admitted he would likely not wear his very often. He wasn’t big on jewelry and wearing a ring while working on bikes was just asking for trouble. We picked out a plain gold band for him but for me Dutch insisted a bit of bling. He told me he wanted everyone to know that I was his girl. The ring I chose wasn’t gaudy but it was a serious rock.

The night of the big bachelor and bachelorette parties arrived.
The bachelor party wasn’t anything fancy, just Dutch, Locke and a few other guys going for a ride and doing guy things. Dutch promised he wouldn’t ride drunk and told me they were likely going to save the drinking for when they got back to Locke’s. The plan was to pull an all-nighter after the ride, drinking, smoking cigars, and generally being guys. Dutch was pretty vague beyond that about exactly what they were doing.

Sheila and I were going out alone.
I didn’t know many of her other friends and I certainly wasn’t inviting any of mine. That was fine with me. Sheila was plenty of fun all by herself. Like she had planned, we got dressed up and went out for steaks and then the plan was to hit a strip club. I was kind of looking forward to that. I’d never been in one and I wondered how we’d be received. Sheila promised to get me a lap dance or two. I was curious how that would go.

We took a cab so we didn’t need to worry about how much we drank.
Dinner was good but it seemed rushed. Both Sheila and I were anxious to get to the real fun. I was in a tight, short skirt and bustier in black, fishnets and high-heeled granny boots along with the new leather jacket Sheila had presented me with as a wedding gift. Sheila was in a pair of red hot pants, a black fishnet top with a lacy red bra underneath and red heels along with her own leather jacket.

The cab dropped us off in front of the strip club, a place called The Lucky Devil, and I admit I was a little nervous.
I’d never been in a strip club and until recently, I wasn’t aware they catered to women. Shelia assured me they did and, in fact, a lot of the dancers preferred women. Sheila was going to get me in trouble but I had no idea how much. I was about to find out.

We went in and the place looked like every strip club I’d ever seen on television.
It was full of red velvet, brass and mirrors. It wasn’t especially crowded but Sheila told me it was early yet. I was glad for the giant men providing security. Every man in the place turned to regard us as we entered and that was just a little unnerving. Sheila seemed to eat up the attention, however. I took a deep breath and tried to follow her lead. We found a pair of velvet chairs at the stage as an incredibly beautiful woman with dark hair, deeply tanned skin and giant fake boobs danced above us.

The stripper immediately noticed us.
Sheila waved a dollar bill and the girl knelt in front of her, took the bill and had Sheila hold it in her teeth. Then the stripper stood, turned around, put her perfect ass in Sheila’s face and stroked her thin panties suggestively before taking the dollar. I wasn’t sure what to think. Part of me wanted to try that but another was terrified. I needed a drink.

“Ladies, what’s your poison?” a cute girl in skimpy lingerie asked from behind as if she knew I needed a little liquid courage.

“Four shots of the cinnamon whisky and a couple of beers,” Sheila told her and then looked at me to make sure that was good with me.

“Make it six shots,” I said.
Sheila laughed and nodded towards the girl.

“Don’t be nervous.
You can tell the dancers that like other girls and those that don’t. Their faces light up when they see us. Watch,” Sheila said. Sure enough, the dark haired dancer finished her set and another girl, a blonde with a lithe body, small but perfect breasts and a lot of tattoos took her place. The girl danced as she surveyed the crowd, still in her lacy top, and when she saw us, she got a big smile and came right over.