Crotch Rocket
Copyright 2011 Bad Penny Press
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Crotch Rocket
I swung my motorcycle into the Library parking lot. Being early on a Thursday, the lot was relatively empty, so I had my choice of spaces. I shut off the bike and climbed off, then reached over with my key and locked the forks.
Walking to the doors I undid the strap of my full-face helmet and slipped it off and went inside. I pretty much had the place to myself, save for maybe six or seven other folks and a mom with the two kids in the Children’s section. I moved to a table away from the others and set my helmet down and shrugged off my backpack.
After having gathered up my necessary books, I sat down to study. It soon became apparent, though, that my focus on my studies was fleeting, at best. I couldn’t help but notice one woman that seemed to keep passing by me on her way back and forth to the book aisles.
What caught my eye initially wasn’t so much her face. Primarily because I never really got to look at it before she would turn away. No, it was the very shapely ass that clung to a sweetly curved body. I kind of got the feeling she was glancing my way now and then, but couldn’t quite catch her. But she was definitely not hiding her well-rounded derriere from my appreciative gaze.
What helped with the view were the clingy shorts she was wearing. Not quite bicycle shorts, not really Spandex, but something that attractively adhered to every contour of her butt and upper thighs. And even those were exquisitely shaped and muscled, a perfect compliment to her taut calves. This woman either worked out religiously or she was blessed with perfection from the waist down.
The bronze tint to her skin hinted she was probably Hispanic. Her walk was paced, yet natural, hinting to me that she was also maybe a dancer. The few times I could pry my eyes away from her lower half, I noticed that her hair was raven black, although you could make out some highlights of grey, but just enough that you could assume that she perhaps a little older and that her color was natural.
Her upper arms were also solid, hinting again at working out. Those were connected to nice shoulders, and every once in a while I’d catch a brief view of the curve of a breast that indicated to me that there might be some decently sized melons. Her waist was rather tiny, but it certainly flowed nicely back to those curvy hips and firm ass that threatened to pull my eyes from my sockets with each pass.
Maybe the woman sensed that my studies were not on the books before me, but on the butt before me. Regardless, she suddenly stopped parading and spun around and faced me square on.
“Mrs. Ortiz!” I exclaimed, loudly enough to be shushed my more than a few other library visitors.
“I thought that was you, Jason,” she said, smiling.
Mrs. Ortiz was a gym teacher at my old high school, and mother to Anthony, one of my friends from then. Ask any of the guys back them and we were all in agreement that Mrs. Ortiz was Hot. Even Anthony had to admit that his mom was a real looker. And she hadn’t changed a bit in the last three years. If anything, she looked even better.
“You ride a motorcycle?” she asked, eyeing my helmet.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“College studies?” she asked, bending over a little and cocking her head to check out the books I had at my table. Her move also allowed me to check her out even more as gravity caused her ample bosom to stretch at her shirt.
“Yeah,” I replied lamely, still a little too focused on Mrs. Ortiz’ charms to hold an intelligent conversation.
“May I sit with you for a moment?” she asked.
“Uh, sure!” I responded, if a little too quickly. At least I got out more than a one-word answer this time.
Mrs. Ortiz sat down next to me and, under the pretense of keeping our voices conspiratorially low enough to keep the librarian at bay, got close enough to talk that her upper arm continually brushed mine. She touched my hand with hers every so often as we spoke, and her scent, while not really perfumed, was making my mind reel.
Despite my hormones trying to go into overdrive as I sat next to this sexy woman, I did manage to stay within the realm of reality and the conversation moved on to discussions of what Major I was planning to declare, how Anthony was doing in college back east, was she still teaching Gym at the high school, and was I seeing anyone serious.
She stared at me for a moment and our eyes met. I got lost in her nearly-black eyes, but reminded myself that this was not only a woman old enough to be my mom, but she WAS the mom of a friend, albeit one who I wasn’t really in touch with. It was an awkward moment, at least for me, and I tried not to read anything into it.
“Oh!” she said with a start, reaching for the cell phone on her hip. She grabbed it and looked at the face and said, “12:45… excuse me, will you?”
She dashed away from the table and out the doors. I watched her gorgeous butt leave me, but still enjoyed the view anyway. I tried to return my thoughts to the study materials before me, but the mom with the killer body didn’t seem to want to leave my thoughts. A moment later, and I could sense her near me again.
“Hey, Jason?” asked Mrs. Ortiz with an embarrassed smile. “Can I ask a favor of you?”
“Certainly, ma’am!” I replied, excited to see her again.
“Do you ever take passengers on your motorcycle?”
“Uh, not often,” I answered, “But, yes.”
“Would you mind taking me?” she asked, again looking oddly meek and embarrassed. “My friend who dropped me off won’t be able to take me home before it gets late. And I was kind of thinking…”
I thought my heart would leap from my chest.
“Sure! I’d be glad to!” I said like an overeager kid… which is essentially what I was at the moment.
“I haven’t been on one for a long time…”
“No problem, Mrs. Ortiz,” I said with a wave of my hand, “you’ll be fine.”
“But, would it be a problem if we left, like, right now?”
“Not at all,” I replied. It wasn’t a lie since here was no way that my hormones were going to let me concentrate on my studies. And, I thought, there would be nothing wrong with having this hot mom holding on to me, even if only for a 10-minute bike ride.
I didn’t bother taking the time to check out any books; I could always come back for them later. Mrs. Ortiz and I walked out of the Library side-by-side. I could better gauge her proportions as a rider; she was about 5’5”, and probably about 110 pounds, 120 tops.
We walked over to my bike and she said, “Wow, that looks fast!” Then she added, “Don’t they call these ‘crotch rockets’?”
“Yeah, they do,” I laughed. “I promise to go easy with you, ma’am.”
Despite the helmet laws, I helped Mrs. Ortiz put on my helmet, figuring it best to protect my rider. I also had her slip on my backpack so she could stay close to me for better balance. Okay, so she could stay close to me, period. I folded down the passenger foot pegs and warned her about avoiding getting burned on the exhaust.
I climbed onto the bike and steadied it while she stepped on the peg to my right with her right foot and easily threw her other leg over the bike and settled in behind me. Once we adjusted ourselves onto the seat, I fired it up.
“Hang on, Mrs. Ortiz,” I called behind me. Her grasp tightened around me and I felt my helmet tap against my back as she apparently nodded. “Don’t forget to lean with me in the turns.”
I eased out on the clutch and gave the bike some gas. I did one wide circle in the library parking lot to kind of give my rider a feel for the lean of the bike. She hesitated a little at first so I did another circuit around the lot. She flowed better with me that time, so I headed out to the street.
Traffic was light so I didn’t have to stop before pulling out onto the boulevard. We rolled out and she flinched a bit as we bounced through the gutter, and then seemed to relax again. I rolled to a stop at a traffic signal.
“Okay, it’s pretty much open road until we get you home, but remember to hang on and roll with me through the winding spots.”
Mrs. Ortiz gave my body one more squeeze of acknowledgement and the light turned green. A quick glance in both directions and we headed off.
I took the speed up gradually, trying to work through the gears without lurching so my rider would remain comfortable and confident. It was only going to be about a 10-minute ride, but I didn’t need my rookie passenger to get nervous at 50 miles per hour.
I went into 5th gear and rolled the throttle to come up to speed quicker. I felt Mrs. Ortiz’ arms pull a little more firmly, although her hands seem to relax and she spread her fingers so her hands held on to more of my body. As we started up one of the first grades along the highway, I bumped up the throttle to keep our momentum up. Mrs. Ortiz responded in kind by tightening her thighs along mine as if to ensure she wouldn’t slip away from the change in gravity. I found myself oddly turned-on by the sensation of her firm legs against mine.
Now pushing close to 55 miles per hour, Mrs. Ortiz seemed to become a little more relaxed. She squirmed a little in the seat, snuggling up a little more. Her hands actually began to slide over my mid-section as if she was caressing my body. I could feel her arch into me, her breasts pressed into my back. She squeezed her thighs against me again, even tighter than before, and worked her pelvis up to the base of my spine.
If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think that Mrs. Ortiz was coming on to me. It was an exciting thought, but I passed off her clinging as something driven by a little fear at our increased speed, as if she was conforming her body more to mine out of nervousness. Then again, maybe she was getting turned on by the vibration of the bike.
The next few moments would erase all doubt as Mrs. Ortiz’ left hand worked slowly down my tummy, feeling my abdomen bit by bit along the way until her hand slid down past the waist of my jeans and into my crotch! I froze up for just a split second at her surprisingly bold move, not a good idea when you’re riding a sport bike a literal mile a minute! I needed to stay focused on my driving.
But Mrs. Ortiz seemed determined to test my concentration. The possibility that her hand in my crotch was some freak accident was completely dissolved when she began to fondle my dick and balls through the denim fabric. She was definitely searching to make out the individual parts that made up my package, following the bulge of my scrotum and then focusing on the dimensions of my swelling prick.
I’d heard of older women seeking out younger men for sex, but I never saw myself as a candidate for such an opportunity. I mean, I definitely thought Mrs. Ortiz to be attractive and sexy, but she was married and a school buddy’s mom, too! What could she be seeing in me?
The unreal quickly became real as my passenger worked my dick to hardness until it was like a sausage down the left leg of my jeans. She stroked the full length of it with her strong fingers from the base all the way to the bulb of its head. All the while she was using her thighs to pull against my legs in rhythmic movements while she pushed her pelvis against me.
I was now pushing 65 miles per hour, trying to get her home of get her off, whichever came first. Now just barely a minute from her home, I felt Mrs. Ortiz shudder and squeeze my torso with a force that nearly drove my breath out of me while her thighs locked against mine and her hand on my dick clamped down.
My sexy passenger was having an orgasm, and judging by the strength of her grip upon me, it must have been a very strong one! Her grip loosened when it seemed to finally subside.
We came off the highway and into her neighborhood. I rolled into her driveway and brought the bike to a halt. Before I could shut off the motor she was off of the bike and literally running for the door of her house.
Maybe she was embarrassed about what had just transpired between us on our ride. Maybe she just had to take a piss. Regardless, she still had my helmet and backpack on, and I was kind of going to need both. I shut down the bike and climbed off to follow her to her door.
I came to the front door and found it open. “Mrs. Ortiz?” I called.
“Come in and close the door, Jason!” I heard her shout from somewhere distant in the house. I closed the door and saw my backpack, obviously tossed aside in haste. I looked around me at the well-kept home around me for what seemed like a good 5 minutes. Then: “Could you please come back here and help me got this helmet off?”
I headed down a hallway, following the source of the voice. There was only one open door, so I went inside to a bedroom. The door closed behind me and I was treated to a vision of Mrs. Ortiz, still in her blouse and my helmet, but only a pair of skimpy panties from the waist down. She put her arms on my shoulders and pushed me backwards until I fell onto a bed, with her falling on top of me.
“Get this helmet off of me,” she demanded as her hands fumbled at the buttons of my jeans. I worked at the chin strap while she worked at getting my pants undone.
Once I had the helmet undone I pulled it off of her head as carefully as I could given her thrashing. Once it was off I set it aside and it rolled off of the bed. Mrs. Ortiz smiled down at me, her hair a mess from the helmet. She bent down and kissed me hard on the lips, her tongue pushing into my mouth.
She finally succeeded in undoing my pants and climbed off of me. She grabbed my shoes and yanked them off of my feet, then grabbed back at the waist of my pants and set about dragging them and my underwear off of me in one wild move, freeing my swollen dick and letting it spring upright, bringing an evil smile to Mrs. Ortiz’ lips.
She was back on me like a wild woman. She grabbed the base of my cock and took it inter her mouth like a starving she-wolf. She actually began to moan as her head bobbed up and down on my rigid staff, taking my meat deep into her throat and then back up just to the edge of letting it slip from her incredible lips, then back down again, over and over and gloriously over. There were a lot of younger girls that needed to take cock sucking lessons from this amazing woman.
I felt the stirrings of an orgasm begin in me when she let my dick free of her oral torture so suddenly that it took my breath away. “Slide up,” she said with a glint in her eyes.
I did as was told and Mrs. Ortiz straddled me again. She hoisted herself upright and quickly slipped her shirt up and over her head, exposing an almost transparent bra that only barely kept her breast in check. The clasp was between the cups and she popped it loose, setting her massive globes free. Her nipples were the color of milk chocolate, full and erect.
I had barely hoisted my own t-shirt off of me when Mrs. Ortiz bent over and stuffed a tit into my face. I obediently opened my mouth and began to feast on her rubbery nipple.
“Suck it hard,” she growled.
I did as she demanded and began to really work some suction onto her tasty breast. She withdrew her breast from my hungry mouth and swayed the other into place, my lips immediately clamping onto her flesh and suckling hard.
“Oh, yeah,” she cooed, shivering a little. “Bite it.”
I heeded my master and started to gnaw at the delicious tit flesh she was feeding me. I could feel Mrs. Ortiz shiver a little harder as the weight of her hot body settled onto mine. Again without any warning she pulled her tit from my mouth and slid down my torso, her full melons rubbing along my flesh. She was now straddling my knees and she bent over and cupped her breasts, wrapping them around my aching dick. She started to grind her body up and down, fucking my shaft with her soft tits.
I looked down to see the head of my prick disappear and then reappear within Mrs. Ortiz’ generous cleavage. Her hair danced slightly, tickling my tummy with each bob of her taut body. Her head remained low as if she was watching the show, and she lashed out her tongue with each appearance of my cockhead, giving it small, teasing licks that began to drive me crazy.
Never one for subtle moves, Mrs. Ortiz released my dick from her warm tit-embrace and sat bolt upright, then slipped off the edge of the bed. She put a finger along each hip and slid them into the waist of her tight panties and drove them down her silky legs and stepped out of them, exposing a snatch so well trimmed as to nearly be hairless. For the briefest of moments I was able to glimpse at what was probably the most perfect body in creation before she jumped back onto the bed and threw her leg over me once more.
She was now positioned over my hips, her few pubic hairs just touching the head of my rock-hard prick. I swear I could feel the moist heat of her cunt radiating over me and building a longing in me. She smiled down at me; she knew that I was fully in her control.
Using no hand to guide me, Mrs. Ortiz eased herself onto me. Once her labia touched the head of my dick, I could actually feel a drip of her juices run down the length of my shaft like hot water, so wet she was. I was nearly writhing to get the head of my cock into her, but she kept pulling back just enough to keep me from entering her steaming tunnel, the lips of her cunt just barely brushing me, teasing me.
“Please,” I moaned aloud like a child wanting sweets.
Without another word she sat down on me, her scorching pussy offering only the slightest sweet resistance as she impaled herself onto me. My guts tightened involuntarily and I convulsed as my cock was immediately enveloped to my balls within her in one incredible swift move.
“Oh, God!” I croaked.
Mrs. Ortiz began to ride my dick, working her muscular thighs to alternatingly lift and drop herself on my dick like a piston. She drove herself onto me over and over again. I watched, mesmerized, as her gigantic tits bobbed up and down like taut water balloons. I instinctively reached up and grabbed them with my hands, almost fearing that they’d tear from her body from her near-violent gyrations on my cock.
Her eyes squeezed tight, her raven hair flying like the mane of a running animal, Mrs. Ortiz rode me like a horse. Her pubis came down on me harder and harder, so much so I thought she’d bruise me. Her pussy juices flowed like water down my scrotum, drenching my balls and into the crack of my ass. Her pace picked up a little more and she began to moan.
“Hang on!” she growled in a raspy voice.
Her sweet tunnel began to tighten around my cock, squeezing at it like a slippery vise. The heat of her body increased and her moves started to lose a little of the rhythmic perfection. Her nipples, still only barely in check within my hands, tightened.
“We’re there!!” she cried out.
‘We’ were definitely there. My guts began to tighten, then went into a full-blown cramp of intensity. My balls tightened so hard that they felt as if I’d been kicked. My cock felt like it had grown to twice its size as I could sense every millimeter of the cunt flesh surrounding me.
“Oh, God!!” I heard myself cry out as if I was somewhere else..
A flood of semen like I had never felt before coursed through my cock and deep into Mrs. Ortiz’ driving pussy. Wave after massive wave of cum erupted from me and was literally ejaculated out of my lover’s tight tunnel and all over my bouncing balls and thighs. My testicles strained to rid themselves of every drop of sperm I could muster.
Still, she refused to stop, riding me hard until she was shaking as if in seizure. My orgasm seemed to go on forever, coinciding with her own continuous waves of pleasure until she fell down on me, fully spent. Her breaths were labored as she sucked in air like a drowning woman. My body shook in response until we both seemed to settle into a warm glow.
A little while after we caught our breaths, we showered in relaxed silence. She was careful not to get her hair wet, or I might have made another attempt at fucking her in the shower. In reality, I probably was so spent I couldn’t muster up a hard-on for another week.
We dressed and left the bedroom. No sooner than we had arrived back in the foyer did the door open and Mr. Ortiz walked in.
“Oh, hello,” he said as he closed the door.
“Hector,” began Mrs. Ortiz, “This is Jason. He’s an old friend of Anthony’s from school.”
Mr. Ortiz extended his hand and I responded in kind. His grip was firm.
“Is that your motorcycle out there?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” I responded. I hoped my voice didn’t give away the slight nervousness that was growing within me. After all, I had just enjoyed the fuck of my life with his wife.
“Jason was kind enough to give me a ride home on his motorcycle when Mary couldn’t get back to pick me up from the library,” said Mrs. Ortiz calmly. She smiled at me. “It was fun, and he was very careful.”
Mr. Ortiz gave his wife a peck on the cheek and walked past her and back, I assumed, to the bedroom. I was just about to turn for the door when I heard Mr. Ortiz’ voice behind me.
“Is this your helmet?” I heard him call out.
I spun around quickly and saw him standing with my helmet in his hand. My heart stopped.
“Yes, sir,” I answered meekly. “It is.”
“Would someone like to tell me why it was in my bedroom?”
Mrs. Ortiz laughed.
“Oh, my God!” she said gaily. “Jason let me wear it for safety. After the ride I was in such a hurry to go to the bathroom that I didn’t even take the time to take it off before I ran back there.” She shrugged at me apologetically. “I guess I forgot to bring it out here for you.”
Mr. Ortiz looked at his wife for a brief moment, then chuckled.
“I’m glad you put her safety first, then,” he said as he handed the helmet to me and turned away, heading back down the hall.
I thought my knees would give out as Mrs. Ortiz walked past me and opened the door. I walked over on shaky legs. She gave me a sweet, motherly peck on the cheek.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said in a near whisper, “on your… Crotch Rocket.”
She brushed her hand along the bulge in my jeans and ushered me out, closing the door behind me.
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