Breath on the Wind (11 page)

“Here.”  Chiz had finished putting his helmet on.  He put hers on her head and fastened it.  “Keep your feet on the pegs, hold on, don’t fall off, and let me worry about the road.  Okay?”

“Yep.”  Andy nodded, and hoped that her growing nerves weren’t as obvious as they felt.

Chiz swung his leg over the bike, and held out a hand to help steady her as she climbed on behind him.  She found the little metal cylinders that he’d indicated as the pegs with her booted feet. 

Once she had stopped fidgeting, he surprised her by wrapping his hands around her knees and pulling her forward so that she was snug against his back.  When she put her hands on his hips he took hold of them, and wrapped them securely around his stomach.

“Time to get cozy, doll.”  He gave her hands a little pat before he returned his to the handlebars.  Andy took his advice and snuggled against his back as he revved the engine.

She concentrated on not falling off when Chiz pulled away from the curb, more slowly than she’d expected, and she was sure more sedately than he usually did.  Shane was still motionless by the door, but was sporting a wide grin.

Before they’d left the city behind, Andy was certain that she could get addicted to riding.  It was completely different from driving in a car, even when she put the top down on her little roadster.  The cool evening air surrounded them.  It felt like more like being a part of the world, precarious without the structure of the car around her, but completely exhilarating.

Chiz had picked a route that she recognized.  It led them out of the city, and soon became a straight road.  As the blacktop opened up in front of them, free of any other traffic, Chiz twisted the throttle. They put their backs to the sunset and sped towards the coming dusk.

The passenger seat was comfortable, but the vibrations were combining with the remaining tenderness from the night before, and enhancing it in the most interesting way.  Altogether, with the adrenaline and the sheer rush of the ride, Andy was fighting hard not to grind against the seat, or against Chiz.

About an hour into their journey, Andy felt the bike begin to slow.  Chiz motioned off to the side of the road.  She followed his hand, and saw that he was indicating a sign for a rest area.  She nodded, knowing that he couldn’t see her, and wondered what the protocol was for in-ride communication.

The night was still new, and the sunset was still illuminating the horizon behind them, but the road off the highway was lined with trees, and the extra shade made it much darker.  Eventually it opened out into a clear grassy space, dotted with picnic tables and benches, and bordered by a blacktop lot.  The whole area was surrounded by trees, completely secluded from the road and very dark.  There was no independent lighting, so when Chiz cut the engine he left the bike’s headlights on.

Chiz put his arm out and Andy used it for support as she climbed off.  She found that she was surprisingly stiff, and still distractingly horny.  Chiz kicked the stand into place before standing himself.  He stretched and pulled his smokes out of his pocket, lighting one, and taking a long drag, before leaning back against the bike.

“So, what did ya think?”

“Wow,” Elmo said as she took her helmet off and shook out her hair.  “I have never felt anything like that.”

“You did well for a newbie.”

“Thanks.”  She looked around at the completely deserted clearing.  It was begging to be the scene for a horror movie.  If she hadn’t been with Chiz, she’d have been convinced that there were axe murderers behind every tree.  “Any particular reason why you chose this place?”

“No, just somewhere to stretch our legs.” 

“It’s pretty quiet.”  Andy caught her bottom lip with her teeth.  She’d had an idea.

It looked like Chiz was riding her same train of thought.  “Those tables don’t look too comfy.  This’ll be softer.”  He patted the seat of his bike. 

Andy considered it for a moment.  Hopefully it was as sturdy on its stand as it looked.  Chiz dropped his smoke and crushed it out with the toe of his boot.

“C’mere, doll.”

Chiz took the helmet from her and bent to place it on the ground, then he pulled her between his thighs.  He caught her face between his palms, burying his fingers in her hair, and pulled her in for a kiss.  By the time he was done claiming her mouth, she was thoroughly convinced of the merits of bike sex out in a December night.

She stepped back to give Chiz space to swing his leg back over the seat.  He did so, but turned around so that he was facing the exhaust, and leaning back against the handlebars.  Ahh, so that’s how you did it.

“It’s chilly, but you’re gonna need to get at least a little naked, doll.  Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up.”  He leered.

“Sure you will.”  Andy grinned back. 

She stripped out of her boots and jeans, pulling her underwear off with the denim.  The blacktop was cold against her feet, so she used Chiz’s shoulder for balance as she swung her own leg back over the bike, over Chiz, so that she was facing him and straddling his lap.  He was still fully clothed, which made Andy feel a lot more naked than she really was.  She hadn’t thought she had an exhibitionist streak like this, but being out in the open, half naked, sitting astride the lap of a blazing hot guy on his nether-tinglingly fun bike made her feel wantonly reckless, and turned her on so much that she could feel how wet she was.

She made sure to keep her feet on pegs, which were a cold line of metal against her arches, but better than the colder tarmac.  The extra balance she got from that made her brave.  She leaned forward, bracing her flat palms against Chiz’s chest.  Their position didn’t allow for a great deal of body contact, so the heat of the kiss was centered solely on their lips.  The kiss moved very quickly from soft and almost chaste, to hard and fierce.  A gentle press of lips on lips devolved into a primal tangling of tongues, licking and nipping.

Andy leaned back and reached for Chiz’s fly.  His hands rubbed warming circles on the skin of her hips and thighs.

“Keep your feet on the pegs, doll.  It’s really gonna ruin the mood if you catch your leg on the exhaust.”  Chiz advised.

Andy caught his eye before squeezing the machine a little tighter with her knees, adjusting her feet a little more firmly on the pegs.  Yeah, a second degree burn would be a real passion killer.

She freed him from his denim.  He was completely hard, and the head of his cock was already slick with clear fluid.  Andy would have liked to have sucked him, she wanted to taste that salty liquid, but those logistics were, like, Level Two biker sex.  She was still in the 101 class.  She contented herself with running her fist up and down the length of him until he groaned.

Chiz shifted, fishing for something in a pocket, and handed her a little foil packet.  His cock stood enticingly proud from his body as she rolled the latex over it.  She ran her palm over it again, smiling at the way it twitched impatiently against her hand.

“Climb on, doll.”  His voice was rough with arousal and that had its own effect on places low in her body.

Andy gripped his shoulders with one hand and pushed against the pegs to lever herself up, using her other hand to hold his shaft steady.  She sank down onto him, feeling him fill her completely.  The folded denim and metal of the opening of his jeans was abrasive and cool against the skin of her thighs.  The air was still chilled as it whispered against her skin, but she couldn’t pay attention to it.  There were far more pressing sensations.

She held onto his shoulders, clenching at the leather of his jacket, and dropped her forehead to his.  For a moment, Andy was overwhelmed with lust, with the desperate need to fuck him and to be fucked.  When she felt more in control she started to move.

“Oh, doll, that’s it.”

It was different this way, and not a simple matter of bouncing up and down.  At first she struggled to get the leverage, but then she found a way of pushing against the pegs and rotating her hips that made Chiz’s cock hit all the best spots inside her.  He sucked his thumb into his mouth, and then dropped his hand into her lap.  She felt the calloused skin over her clit and threw her head back, crying out into the night,

“That’s it doll.  Fuck, to see you like this.”

“Jesus, Chiz, you feel so fucking good in me.”

She was going to come, and she was going to come hard.  She felt Chiz’s body tighten, under, around and inside her, and heard his breath hitch.  She knew he was going to come with her.  Andy wanted to hold it off, to make it last longer, because every last thing about this fuck was awesome.  But there was no chance, they were both too carried away. 

Instead, she gave herself over to the orgasm that consumed her like wildfire as they both shouted their pleasure to the stars.

Chapter Ten

Chiz woke in his bed at the motel, and for a moment, as every morning before, it took him a beat to orient himself.  The confusion was partly due to the rarity of him being away from home, particularly for so long, but part of it was Elmo.  Every morning he woke up feeling the ache of exertion in his muscles and smelling the scent of her, of them, on his skin and in the sheets.  For the past couple of mornings, he’d been surprised to find himself alone in the bed.

The previous night was now on Chiz’s list of nights to remember.  Truth be told, every night this week so far was making up the top five.

After a truly epic fuck on his bike, which was going to add a whole new dimension to his riding for some time to come, he’d taken Elmo for dinner at a diner on the city limits, a kitsch Fifties-themed place operating out of a chromed Airstream trailer.  It was small and private.  The food had turned out to be excellent, which was good because they were both starving.  Chiz had been pleased to see that Elmo had a healthy appetite.  He would have been disappointed if she’d have turned out to be a salad and tofu freak.  It was one more thing that didn’t fit with the ozone-layer-saving, militant-vegetable-eating, commune that she lived in.

Elmo had suggested that for tonight, she return the favor.  She wanted to dress up, which meant that laundry was on his list of things to do today, but he was trying not to gripe about that.  So far, Elmo dressing up had been extremely entertaining.  He could wear a shirt and make nice with waiters if she wanted to look a little fancy for him.  He suspected that their date would not be a simple case of dinner and drinks.

He started his day with a ride, just as he had each previous morning.  It was an aimless wandering through the countryside, avoiding both the city and the interstate.  There was some pretty scenery about, even in the middle of winter.  If he took the roads closest to the ocean; there were some clear views of the Gulf, too. 

He rode until his stomach informed him that it was time to eat lunch.  It didn’t take much effort to find somewhere to grab a burger and fries, nothing too heavy.  He didn’t want a lead weight of food squatting in his gut later.

On the way back to his motel, Chiz detoured past the rest stop that he’d taken Elmo to the previous night.  In the dead of winter, even during the holiday season, it was empty and clear of tourists.  Chiz took some time to enjoy a couple of smokes, and to relive the memories.  He was hard by the time he mounted his bike and turned back down the access road, but he ignored his erection, preferring to save his energies.

Once back at the motel, he packed his laundry into his rucksack and tucked it into his saddlebags.  The clerk at the reception desk directed him to the nearest full-service laundromat.  While he was waiting for his shit to be done being washed and dried, he found somewhere to grab a coffee, and a seat, and called his president.  He’d made brief calls to Samuel every day, just to let him know that he was alive, and that he hadn’t been arrested.

Samuel answered almost immediately.

“Hello there, brother.”

“Hey, boss.  Just checkin’ in.  I’m still outside of jail.”

Samuel paused. 
“You are plannin’ on comin’ home, aren’t you, brother?”
  He’d phrased the question with a humorous lilt to his voice, but Chiz could hear the concern underneath it.

“Yeah.  Course I am.  Just takin’ some time is all.”

“You okay?”

Chiz took a moment to give the question his full consideration.  Samuel wasn’t just asking superficially.  “Yeah I’m good.  I feel good.”

“Uh huh.  There’s gotta be a woman involved in this somewhere.”
  Samuel’s tone had turned to teasing.

Chiz was silent for a second too long as he debated telling Samuel about Elmo, but he couldn’t find the words for her.  He didn’t think he could describe what he’d found in Alabama in a way that his president would understand.  And after all, Samuel wasn’t the only person who had trouble understanding him. 

Samuel answered for him. 
“Yep.  As I thought.  No way she’s casual pussy if you’re stayin’ away this long.  Have fun.  Keep safe.  We miss you.”

Chiz snorted a laugh.  “Yeah.  Right. I’m sure Sinatra misses gettin’ his ass handed to him in the ring.”

“He’s been trainin’ with Shark.  You might want to put your dick away long enough to spend some time in the gym.  I think he’ll give you a good fight when you get back.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“The kid’s got form.  Anyway, keep whole, son.”

“Will do.  Stay safe, pres.”

Chiz ended the call.  The thought of Sinatra beating him in the ring was laughable, even with Shark’s tutoring, but still, he was going to get his ass to the gym.  He’d already found one that he felt comfortable in.  He didn’t speak to anyone there. He wasn’t out to make friends.  It wasn’t one of the shiny chrome and mirror places with repetitive, ear-numbing dance music piped out of every corner, and people posing on the machines rather than working out on them.  This was a sawdust-on-the-floor joint that stank of sweat, and the only soundtrack was the grunts of the men working out, and the whump of taped fists hitting the heavy bags.  There was the occasional yell from the trainers, grizzled men with bent noses and cauliflower ears, as they coached the title-hungry boxers who sparred on the stained canvas of the ring in the center of the room.

Chiz finished his coffee and picked up his laundry.  He took it back to the motel and changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt.  He put his boots on to ride.  He hadn’t packed any sneakers for his trip, so he worked out in his bare feet.

Chiz spent some time on the weights before he moved over to the heavy bag.  He didn’t want to exhaust himself, but he enjoyed the burn in his muscles as they complained of being tested.  He did not enjoy the ache that came right from the marrow of the bone in his right leg.  He might not have minded quite so much if he’d acquired the break in his thigh bone in some sort of fight, or even if a vehicle in the garage had dropped on him.  The fact that he’d fractured his femur falling off a ladder while hanging curtains for his veep’s old lady just added to the hurt.

“Hey.”

Chiz caught the bag so it didn’t swing back and smack him in the face.  He looked up to see who had spoken.  He had to look a ways up, because it was the big fucker, the ex-Dirty Rat, who worked the door at Elmo’s club.  The big guy was sweating, so he must have been in the gym a while.  Chiz had been in the zone, and had paid zero attention to anyone else in the room while he’d counted out his repetitions and concentrated on the form of his combinations.

“Hey.”

“You throw a good punch.  Wanna spar?”

Chiz did not want to be flattened before he met with Elmo, and the guy was a fucking giant, but it would be good to have a challenge in the ring.  It was no bad thing to get some practice in with someone new.  Shark was a good opponent, and he was almost as big as this fucker, but it had been a while since Chiz had faced someone whose style he wasn’t fully aware of.

“Yeah, sure.”

As they clambered between the frayed, faded ropes of the ring, Chiz allowed himself to have some second thoughts.  He wasn’t pussying out, but the guy had over a foot of height on him and inches of reach.  Even for a friendly spar, this would be a test of skill.

By the time they’d finished their third round, they’d attracted quite a crowd. A couple of the trainers had designated themselves corner men, and were perched on each corner.  One of the boxers in training, a heavyweight, had started timing and calling the rounds, and acting as referee.  Everyone else was grouped around the skirt of the canvas.

They traded blows for ten rounds in total.  They weren’t wearing any protective equipment, but by mutual unspoken agreement they’d avoided head shots.  Chiz’s previously cracked ribs were voicing their discontent, but he knew some Tylenol and hard liquor would silence them.

The refereeing heavyweight called it a draw.  Chiz was happy with that.  He’d stood firm in the face of twelve inches of height and at least six inches of reach.  There was no shame in not winning a practice bout against those odds.

When they both climbed out from between the ropes, it was to cheers from their impromptu audience.  As the trainers encouraged their charges back to work with curses and insults, Chiz and his new friend headed for the locker room.  Chiz showered briefly.  The pressure and temperature was no better than warm piss, barely enough to get the sweat off.  He’d shower properly at the motel to get clean.

They were both dressing off when Gigantor spoke.  Chiz hadn’t really been expecting conversation.

“You known Andrea long?”

“Andrea?” 

Chiz wasn’t sure who fuck the guy was talking about.  About the same time that he cottoned on, the big guy clarified, “Andy? Elmo?” 

Elmo was the name he’d given at the club the day before.  Andrea, so that was what her name was, huh.

“Just since Christmas.  Why?  That cause a problem for you?”

“Gods, no, man.  She’s an impressive bitch, but I got an old lady at home.”

“What’s your interest then?”

“She’s my boss.  And she’s a good boss.  There ain’t many like her out there.”

“You respect her?”

“Yeah.  Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.  That’s all I need to know.  See ya around.”

His new buddy hauled his gym bag onto his shoulder, and punctuated what had obviously been a warning with a clap on Chiz’s shoulder as he left the locker room.  Chiz stood for a moment, staring at the door that had swung closed.  He had no fucking clue what he was getting himself into, but he was obviously getting into something.

~o0o~

Back at the motel, Chiz showered again and changed.  He dressed in jeans and his button-down shirt, and wondered what sort of night Elmo had planned for them.  He didn’t feel like he had enough of a handle on her personality to guess what she had in mind.  Elmo dressing up meant her picking him up in her little car, since she’d hinted she wouldn’t be able to ride in what she would have liked to wear, so he poured himself a drink and waited.

The knock on the door came at exactly the time she’d stated.  He still checked the peephole out of habit, but this time he didn’t take his gun to the door with him.  Sure enough, Elmo was waiting alone on the other side.

Chiz opened the door and waved her in.  She was wearing a dress in a shade of green so dark it was almost black.  At first glance, Chiz was a little disappointed, it covered her chest up to her neck and it had long sleeves, although it hugged her curves nicely and ended a couple of inches above her knees.  But when she walked past him he lost the ability to breathe for a second; it was completely backless and low enough to show the first swell of the cheeks of her ass.  In addition, she had the seamed stockings on again and the sexy black shoes with the red sole. 

Chiz considered a sudden re-evaluation of their night.  Staying in and fucking until they passed out seemed like the best, the only, plan.  He was determined to fuck her while she wore those heels, and he was determined that it would be this night.

He shoved the door closed and went for his glass, for a drink to wet his dry throat, before he could speak,

“You look good, doll.  Real good.  You want a drink?”

She had a shit-eating grin on her face.  She knew damn well what effect that dress was having on him, as if the bulge in his jeans wasn’t giving it away.

“Thank you.”  Her grin got wider.  “You ready?”

Chiz threw back the rest of his whiskey.  “Yeah, doll. Let’s go.”  If they didn’t walk out of this room right the fuck now, they would not be walking out of it before dawn.

“Not so fast.”  She handed him a box that he hadn’t noticed she was carrying.  He hadn’t noticed the little purse in her other hand either.  He’d been entirely focused on the length of her spine and the inviting curve of her backside.  There could not possibly be underwear under that dress.