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Boston by Motorcycle
By
Tequila_Sunrise

Boston by Motorcycle

A woman travelling to meet her fiance gets sidetracked by a handsome stranger.
I had just finished my undergraduate degree in psychology, and was about to pursue a Master’s degree in criminology, but I hadn’t yet decided which university I wanted to attend. My final plan was to enlist with the RCMP, but as a young woman who barely hit 5 foot 6, I knew that the only way to get accepted was by having a lot to offer. My grades were excellent, and I had been offered entrance to several programs.

I was undecided between Ottawa University and McGill in Montreal. The program at Ottawa would set me up right in the RCMP’s backyard, so to speak, but the program at McGill was highly recognized on an international level, and may be better for my career in the long run.

I had the summer off that year, given that my scholarships paid my ride, and I decided that I would spend some time in Montreal to see how I liked the city before I went to meet my boyfriend in Boston. Jeff and I had met in high school and although he was three years older than me, we had quickly developed a very strong relationship. He had been admitted to Harvard, and was pursuing post-graduate studies in political sciences. His parents had bought him a sailboat as a graduation present, and we were going to spend the summer on the water.

Staying at a youth hostel in Montreal, I had met quite a few people and had a great time. I was sharing a room with three other girls, and they knew the city well. End result: Montreal was definitely my choice. I was to leave for Boston by bus the next morning, but my roommates were trying to convince me to stay for the comedy festival, telling me that the talent here was equal to none, and I’d laugh until I peed my pants, guaranteed. They were in the middle of their sales pitch, when I saw him walk into the hostel – the man who was to be my undoing.

He wasn’t particularly tall, but had a rugged handsomeness to him. Long hair, broad shoulders, and wearing riding leathers, he put his motorcycle helmet on the counter and flashed a smile at the receptionist. My God, what a beautiful smile! My roommates all stopped talking at once, as we were all mesmerized by this man. He talked his way into the highly coveted semi-private room with Manuel, the exchange student. The receptionist offered to take him up to the room, and we all waited eagerly to see if she came back or not.

She returned a couple of minutes later, looking decidedly dejected. I’m sure she gave him her best shot, but from her demeanor, the offer wasn’t taken up. We conspired to get Manuel to scout out the new arrival, and called him over. We gave him the task of finding out everything possible about him. Manuel, always trying to endear himself to us in the hopes of getting a little more, was eager to help us out.

Manuel joined us at the dinner table later that day, and gave us the scoop: Jean-Marc was about to leave for a job in Colombia, and was touring Quebec on his bike before he shipped out. What kind of job? Manuel didn’t know. What did he do? Manuel didn’t know that either. Was he single? Manuel rolled his eyes, he didn’t ask. When Manuel realized we were about to kill him, he tried to placate us by telling us that he had invited this mysterious man to have supper with us. Things were about to get real!

True to his word, our mystery man came to sit with us at dinner. He flashed us that beautiful smile, and we all melted and tried to find the words to introduce ourselves. He had a deep, rumbling voice which resonated to my very core. His eyes laughed as he spoke, telling us of his travels through Quebec and the odd people he had met. But it was his smile that was my undoing. It radiated such a warmth, with a mischievous undercurrent – you just knew he would make your toes curl, given the opportunity. For my part, I knew I was going to be with my boyfriend in a matter of days, so I wasn’t throwing my hat into the ring, but the other three ladies at the table were all jostling for that opportunity.

Of course, he was invited to come out with us that evening to the comedy club. To our delight, he accepted and we made arrangements to walk down to the club together that evening.

The girls had been right – the show was amazing, and true to form, I had laughed so hard, I wet my pants. Although the moisture may not have been entirely from laughing. As it happened, Jean-Marc had sat between Micheline and me, and I had the delightful pleasure of feeling his thigh next to mine for most of the evening. Between acts, we were able to talk, and I got to know him well. He had come from an upper-class family, but had never felt like he had fit in, so he had taken the road less traveled. Before I knew it, I was sharing my own story with him, and he listened with a genuine warmth and interest. He was so hot, but at the same time, I don’t think he realized the power he had over the ladies. Or perhaps that’s just what I wanted to believe.

We arrived back at the hostel after the show, and we all went our own separate ways for the night. I must confess, my lingering awareness was taken up with thoughts of Jean-Marc, and I could tell by the rustling bed sheets of my roommates, that I was not the only one to take guilty pleasure at the thought of his company.

The next morning, my mind cleared, I had resolved to grab the bus out to Boston. If nothing else, last night’s outing made me realize more than ever that I needed to get into the arms of my boyfriend. The girls came down one by one, and we chatted about the evening and of our prize companion. I let them know of my plans, and of course, they tried to talk me into one more night out with them. Jean-Marc came down to join us, looking hotter than hell in tight jeans and t-shirt. He joined me at the cereal bar, and asked if it was true that I was leaving for Boston. I replied that I was, and he told me that he was leaving for Boston on Sunday to meet a friend. Then, he dropped the bomb: if I waited one more day, he would drive me down. My heart missed a beat.

I had a fair amount of experience on the back of a bike – both of my brothers had motorcycles growing up. But to be on his bike, wrapped around his body for five hours… I didn’t know if I could trust myself. I tried to come up with a good reason to not take him up on his offer, but none were coming to mind. Five hours on the back of a bike or eight hours in a crowded bus. He offered to take me on a ride to make sure I felt comfortable with him. He gave me a helmet, and we went outside. He had a shiny black BMW with red trim. Of course, his bike was beautiful as well. We went for a brief tour through the streets of Montreal and up to Mont Royal, where we took in a beautiful view of the city. He was a great rider, and his bike was solid, fast and surprisingly comfortable. I had no reason to decline – I took him up on his offer.

The girls of course, were all envious of my opportunity, but I kept trying to tell them – or myself – that nothing was going to happen. He was just going to give me a ride to Boston, where I would then say goodbye and meet up with my boyfriend.

Our second evening out at the comedy festival was just as great as the first, and we saw several great performers, who kept us in stitches. Again, Jean-Marc sat beside me, and again, our thighs were pressed together. The warmth of his leg stirred up indecent thoughts, but I told myself that if I was going to be on the back of his bike, I was going to have to get used to the idea of being so close to him. Further to that, even though our thighs were pressed together, his attention was most definitely directed towards Micheline.

She was on the other side of Jean-Marc, and through the evening, she was flirting to her full potential. Her blouse was open, and her ample cleavage was teasingly on display. Through the show, we would hear giggles that were most definitely not provoked by the comedian on stage, and the girls noticed a few times that hands had disappeared beneath the table cloth.

After the show, Micheline told us that she was going to show Jean-Marc the old city, and that they wouldn’t be walking back with us. Nancy and I made a few lewd comments to her, then left on our own for the hostel. I took a quick shower, and packed all my gear for the next day. Monique had left earlier in the afternoon, so it was only Nancy, Micheline and I in the quad tonight. I took advantage, and dropped down to the lower bunk to get a good night’s sleep.

Later that night, I was awakened by giggles and the sound of Micheline bouncing off the furniture as she groped around the room. She landed in Nancy’s bed, asking her if she was still awake. The two girls had been traveling together, and were quite close, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to see them sharing a bunk. Nancy, for her part, was anxiously waiting for Micheline to return so that she could learn the torrid details of their encounter.

Micheline asked if I was still awake, and Nancy assured her that I had fallen asleep a while ago. I heard some conspiratorial whispering, then Micheline pulled her blouse over her head, kicked off her jeans, and climbed under the covers with Nancy. Micheline told Nancy all about her night with Jean-Marc. They never made it to the old city, but slipped down a darkened alley soon after leaving us. Their hands were all over each other, and soon he had pushed her up against a car. He gave her a good tonguing, then moved up and slipped it between her legs from behind.

She described his cock’s length and width, and how it sent her into orgasm over and over again, as he took his time sliding in and out, playing her like an instrument. He would switch up from long, deep strokes to short fast strokes whenever he felt her cumming then would relax to the slow deep strokes to let her rest, and do it all over again. She whispered that she was still a wet, sticky mess.

Nancy asked her incredulously about a condom, but Micheline replied she was protected. I heard a pause in their conversation, and when I peeked out at them, I could see them locked in a deep embrace, lost in the pleasure of a sensual kiss. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! I was so naive. It all seemed to make sense to me now.

Nancy looked over at me, and I quickly closed my eyes, feigning sleep. She returned her attentions to Micheline, and I heard her saying: “Mmmm, you are a sloppy mess. I’d better take care of that.” Soon the covers were off, and I could see Nancy kissing her way down Micheline’s belly, her head disappearing between her thighs. The moans were too much for me, and my hand went down to my own sex, wet from Micheline’s story, and the passion play I saw unfolding before me.

It wasn’t long until Micheline began to thrust her hips up against Nancy, and her moans told me that Nancy had brought her off to another orgasm. Micheline pulled Nancy up, and they shared a wet kiss. Micheline told Nancy that she wanted to lick her, so they switched positions, and Micheline began to make love to Nancy. I came somewhere between Nancy’s second and third orgasm, my sex throbbing in my hands as the pleasure washed over me. As I fell asleep, I wondered if Jean-Marc realized how much sex he had set into motion.

The next morning, Jean-Marc and I met in the hostel lobby. He loaded my back pack onto his bike, and after a quick good-bye to Micheline, we were off.

It was a beautiful day, slightly overcast, but warm. As we rode out onto the highway, a great sense of happiness washed over me. The highway wound itself through beautiful forests as we cruised through the state of Vermont. My arms were wrapped around Jean-Marc in a loose embrace, my thighs holding on to him, with the vibrations of the bike throbbing through my body. It was heavenly bliss!

We were just past Montpelier when the weather turned on us. Overcast skies darkened, and it wasn’t long before we were riding through a torrential downpour. We stopped for gas, and discussed the situation. At the rate we were going, we were still four hours out from Boston. We decided to press on, as wet as we were.

Another hour of riding, and the cold began to set in. I was thoroughly chilled, and my hands went under his jacket in an attempt to warm up. I could feel his abdominal muscles through his wet shirt, hard, and rippled, wet and cold. He was soaked to the core as well. He pulled over at a hotel somewhere in a little town in the middle of nowhere. When the bike came to a stop, I could feel him shaking. We were going to have to sit out the storm.

We walked into the reception area and, ever the gentleman, he asked for two rooms. There had been a wedding, and all the rooms were booked, save for a double. He looked at me, and I shrugged my shoulders. If it had to be done, it had to be done. We took the room, and brought our stuff into the hotel, securing the bike in the garage. As we walked into the small room, I told him that as long as he didn’t try any funny stuff, he would live to see the morning light. He laughed and promised to be good.

We took turns warming up in the bathtub. I let him go first, as I wanted to take advantage of having my own private tub, something that wasn’t available to me at the hostel. Jean-Marc and I chatted through the door about this and that. I took my time, relishing the warmth of the hot water. Then I shaved, first my legs, then my privates, getting myself ready for Jeff tomorrow. I thought I would surprise Jeff, so I took my time and shaved a cute little pattern over my pubis, then shaved the rest clean. If only Jean-Marc knew what I was doing as he was chattering with me!

We ordered supper from the hotel, and gobbled down the burger and fries with great relish, having missed lunch somewhere between the thunder and the lighting. Turning on the TV, we flipped through the movies available to us. He had never seen Casablanca, so of course I made him watch it! As we did, he got so excited to learn of the origins of all the catch phrases that have come from that movie; it was very cute. After the movie, we settled in for the night. He built a wall between us, and kissed me on the cheek goodnight, before turning off the light. A part of me was very cautious of him, and I had made up my mind to push away any advances. But Micheline’s story last night had me secretly wishing that he would try something.

I heard him gently snoring, and with a sigh, resolved myself to sleep. My sense of disappointment surprised me, and I began to run things through my mind. Would I have stopped him if he had leaned over to kiss me? I don’t think I would have. And of course, the fact that he acted as a perfect gentleman just made me want him even that much more. Who had I really been pampering myself for, I thought, as I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I knew that I had been dreaming of sex all night. I don’t know if it was Micheline’s story, the ride on the bike, sleeping beside Jean-Marc, or what it was, but I woke horny. I gently slipped my hand between my legs, and the wetness and heightened sensitivity confirmed it. I would probably cum with ten strokes!

I was just wondering if I should try to quietly masturbate or not, when Jean-Marc woke up beside me. He looked over at me, confused for a moment, then smiled when he recognized where he was.

“I can’t believe I’m waking up beside such a beauty,” he whispered.

I thought he was being facetious, my hair likely a complete mess, so I pulled up one of the pillows and hit him over the head. He grabbed another pillow, and before long, we were swinging pillows at each other, yelling gleefully. At one point, he grabbed me around the waist, and we both fell back against the bed. He landed on top of me, and our eyes locked. He started to excuse himself and get off me, but I wrapped my arms around him and held him to me.

“Your boyfriend,” he started.

“Isn’t here.” I finished. And I kissed him.

Our lips met, firm at first, then melting into a soft wet kiss. Our tongues played with each other, wrapping around like two snakes. I knew I had to have him.

I opened my legs, and he repositioned his body, letting his groin settle in between my legs. I felt his cock growing hard between my legs, and I knew that Micheline hadn’t been exaggerating. He was long, and thick. And he would soon be inside of me.

We broke our kiss, and we each hurriedly striped out of our sleepwear. Naked, he lay on top of my body again. His chest against my breasts, his cock against my belly. We kissed again, more urgently now, our passion intensifying with the feeling of our naked skin against each other. He slipped his body slightly lower, and I could feel the base of his cock rubbing between my legs, my moisture lubricating him immediately. He began to slowly hump against my crotch, the sensations driving me wild, and I bit his lip.

He moved down my body, the length of his cock rubbing slowly between my legs as he moved, his lips kissing down my neck, my collarbone, between my breasts. He took one nipple in his mouth, his warm, wet mouth, and sucked it in. My nipple stiffened immediately, as an electric current drove directly from my nipple to my clit.

I humped up at his cock, pushing my wetness against his hardness. He took my other nipple in his mouth, provoking the same pleasures, twirling his tongue around it, before biting it. I screamed, and he laughed, mumbling something about his lip.

He kept moving down my belly, kissing and licking as he went. I lost contact with his cock, and dies a small death, as I could no longer feel his hardness against my sex. Soon, it would be the farthest thing from my mind as I felt his tongue licking against my clit. Two, three strong licks, and I was bucking underneath him. He grabbed my hips with his strong hands, and spread my legs further apart. I was completely open to him, and freshly shaven! I smiled to myself, knowing he was going to get a treat, until his tongue wiped the smile right off my face with a deep lick right up my slit! Unghhhhh!

My ass was in his hands, I could feel his thumbs holding my lips apart as his tongue began to run up and down, inside me, across my clit, everywhere all at once, hard, soft, firm, warm, wet. It was too much for me, and my moans grew from deep inside of me; primal, shameless arousal washing over and through me. I began to convulse, shaking as my orgasm overtook my body. I was now a slave to the pleasure my body was feeling, unable to control myself, as my legs shook and my moans escaped from deep within me.

Panting, I struggled to get my breath, as he moved up my body. He smiled at me, that bewitching, intoxicating smile. I would have this man’s children, if he asked me to. I was certainly about to take his seed, I thought as his cock moved up between my legs and found the entrance to my womb. With slow, short strokes, he teased me. I was crazy for him, and there was nothing I wanted more than to feel his hardness fill me up. I bit his nipple, and he got the message, slowly pushing his hardness inside of me. It felt like it would never stop, it just went on and on, until I felt it bump against my cervix. Fuck!

He felt the intensity of my arousal, of my need, and he quickly picked up the pace. I felt his hardness pushing into and out of me, in a strong steady pace. The feeling of his penetrations, humping into me, drove me to another orgasm, longer and deeper this time. He didn’t slow down, didn’t miss a beat. His own need was strong, his arousal increasing with every penetration of my body. Our bodies began to glisten with sweat, sliding against one another. His cock was buried deep inside of me and he began to grind inside of me, his pubic bone mashing against my clit, as I felt him begin to shake.

Gasping and moaning, he held himself inside of me as his own orgasm exploded inside of me. I could feel his cock, pulsing within the constraints of my cunt. I could feel his wetness pulsing in long streams inside of me, splashing against my cervix with each contraction. Again and again he humped against me, releasing his seed deep inside my womb. I held him to me, wrapped him in my arms, between my legs, rocking against him gently as his orgasm softly subsided, leaving us as one in a warm, passionate embrace.

We lay there, lost in time, glowing in the aftermath of our passion, our bodies satiated. I lost track of time. Minutes, maybe hours, passed as we lay there, lost but secure in each others’ arms. His cock eventually shrunk, and slipped out of me, to nestle gently against my crotch. We nuzzled, then kissed, and slowly extricated ourselves from the knot of human flesh we had created.

Laughing, I told him that he had broken his promise to me. He realized I was referring to our deal made last night when entering the bedroom. He paused, uncertain if he should take me seriously or not, they seeing the coy smile tugging at the corner of my lips, he smiled (that glorious, beautiful smile) and asked me how he could make things up to me. I told him jokingly that nothing less than a tour of the Eastern Sea Cost would do. He looked at me, getting serious, and told me that he would like nothing better. I asked him if he was serious, and he answered that he still had three weeks left, and nothing better to do. He was at my disposal.

I quickly changed the topic, telling him that his first task would be to get me something to eat, as I was starving. He laughed, and we got dressed, packed up, and left the hotel. We found a greasy spoon on our way to the interstate, ate a quick meal, and made our way to Boston.

I had several hours to mull over in my mind all that had taken place. I had given myself to him with no reservation. Afterwards, I felt no guilt. What did that mean? Deep inside, I knew.

When we arrived in Boston, I directed Jean-Marc to the marina. I asked him if he would wait for me. He looked puzzled, expecting to have dropped me off, never to see me again. I asked him if he wanted to see me again. We locked eyes, and I knew his answer before he even said it. He confirmed my feelings, and I knew what I had to do.

My conversation with Jeff was brief. He knew as soon as he saw me that this was to be our last visit. He echoed my thoughts and feelings, acknowledging that we had grown apart over the years and that our lives were moving indifferent directions. He cried, I cried. We hugged one last time, and I left Jeff.

When I walked back to the marina gates, I saw Jean-Marc and I gave him a big smile. He confessed that he wasn’t sure if I was going to come back to him or reconsider. I gave him a big hug, and nuzzled into his neck, telling him that I had decided to travel with him on the road less traveled. With that, he started the engine, I pulled on my helmet, and we left for the Easter Seaboard, the sunshine giving us his blessing.
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