Wild Ride: A Bad Boy Romance (5 page)

Colton pushed
his cock against me…it was large, stabbing into the area between my legs, but
not quite inside of me yet. He was using it to tease me a little…he kept
pushing the tip gently right against me…just enough to make me moan louder.

“I need you,” I
said, pleading. “Put it inside me. I need you.”

With my hands,
I seized his head by the sides.

“Please,” I said,
“Please put it inside me…I need you right now.”

He obeyed. Oh,
did he obey.

He pushed
inside me.

He was gentle.
He did it slowly. He did it just the way he should have.

But he was so
big…it had been years since I had had a cock that large inside of me…or even
seen one that big. But, come to think of it, that probably had been the largest
cock I had ever received in my life…but it didn’t seem so large at the time,
perhaps, because of how well it was shaped. You always read about these women
gasping at the sight of club-sized cocks, swinging between some Neanderthal’s
legs…Colton’s cock just didn’t strike me as that sort of cock.

I felt the full
brunt of his cock enter me…his cock was beautiful and it was a beautiful
experience.

“Oh, Colton,” I
said, crying out, letting out little inadvertent noises…like a small animal
with a high-pitched cry.

He rode me
slowly at first. He was easing into it.

I heard him
exhale a deep breath…

“That feels so
good,” he said, his voice deep. “I love being inside of you.”

“I love having
you deep inside me,” I said, moaning. “Go deeper, please.”

“Like this?” he
said, bucking his hips powerfully. The power of his thrust pushed me into the mattress.
His powerful body was pushing against me, thrusting again and again, as deep as
he could go each time. It was amazing that he could thrust that deep and that
quickly at the same time.

“You’re so
wet,” he said, leaning down and whispering into my ear…it was a hot throaty
whisper. “It makes it easy for my cock to go so deep. Why are you so wet,
baby?”

“I don’t…I
don’t know,” I said, managing to get the words out…the exertion from getting
fucked so intensely was intense…I was surprised I was able to speak at all.

“You’re wet for
me…for my cock. Your body knew it wanted my cock, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said,
the words coming out like a half-moan, half-cry.

“You knew you
wanted me when you saw me at the bar, didn’t you? You were already wet for me
then, weren’t you?” As he said this, he thrust even harder. His cock was all
the way inside, all the way up to the hilt. It felt wonderful.

“Yes,” I cried.
“Yes, I was wet at the bar just looking at you.”

“Good, that’s
good baby,” he said, in a comforting voice, while he continued to fuck me…I
want to say he fucked me viciously, but that isn’t that the case. It might be
more accurate to say he fucked me as hard as if he was fucking me viciously,
but the intent and the motions were completely different. He was fucking me as
if he wanted me…but more than want…a need, an absolute need. He couldn’t do
with out me. He had to fuck me. He had to have me. And I had to have him…have
him inside me.

I was usually a
woman who normally needed plenty of clitoral stimulation in order to come.
Usually, I had to make suggestions to the men I was sleeping with, guiding them
in the right direction. Or else I simply took care of the need myself…I realize
that isn’t exactly considered kosher by some men, but I didn’t care in the
least bit. I was a woman and had needs just like they did.

In the past,
when I was a little younger, I had been scared to rub my clitoris while having
sex, or to tell the man anything that he might do differently…that’s the way we
had all been raised by the culture…we weren’t supposed to make any
suggestions…we were just supposed to lie back and let the man do what he
wanted…if he took care of our needs that was great…and if not, we could take
care of them later in private, although we never talked about that of course.

I’m immensely
glad I finally had the breakthrough…the realization that there wasn’t anything
wrong with it. Why should just a cock inside me make me come? Why was it my
fault if that didn’t happen, if a cock inside me wasn’t enough? Why shouldn’t I
be allowed to ask for what I wanted in sex…after all sex was supposed to be a
two-person activity? It wasn’t just for the man.

But what was
happening to me now with Colton was incredible…it was simply that I didn’t need
the clitoral stimulation. I mean, sure, it had felt absolutely wonderful when
he had gone down on me…and for a moment I thought that his pelvic bone was
pushing against my clitoris…but no, that wasn’t the case.

I was sure of
it now…the only way he was pleasuring me was with his cock…with straight
penetration. Of course, the penetration was much, much more intense than usual.
For one thing, his cock was bigger. Also, he was simply fucking me much more
intensely than the other men I had been with. It might have also had something
to do with his skill…he seemed quite good at what he was doing. I couldn’t
begin to figure out exactly what it was he was doing…they weren’t “moves”
exactly, at least not in the traditional sense of a move that a guy learns in
order to please a woman.

Instead, Colton
seemed to have some innate sense of what would feel good to me. Or maybe it was
just that he was doing what felt good to him…and those same things felt good to
me too. Either way, we had some sort of connection. I wasn’t sure what would
seem more impressive or stranger to me: whether he was anticipating my desires
or merely fulfilling his own.
 

“Hmmm,” groaned
Colton. He was thrusting harder and faster than ever. He reached down with his
head and kissed me deeply. It was a passionate kiss…it was something more than
regular casual sex partners shared…

In that moment,
I truly believed something had already happened. We had somehow passed a threshold
of connection that is rarely achieved by most couples…something had happened
and we certainly weren’t just two people fucking.

I knew that he
felt it too…I knew because I felt it from his cock, his mouth, his entire body.
I saw it in his eyes as he gazed deep into mine as he fucked me…harder and
harder…over and over.

“Turn over,” he
said.

“You want to
fuck me from behind, baby?” I said, in a voice horse from pleasure.

For an answer,
he picked me up, as if I were as light as a rag doll. He gently flipped me
over…there was force to it…I could feel his potential for power as he lifted
me…but he did so in such a refined and gentle way that made me shudder on the
inside from admiration…admiration for his powerful body, for his caring
presence.

I was flat on
my stomach.

Colton was on
top of me in a flash, pressing his powerful body against mine. My breasts were
pressed into the mattress. My whole body was sunk a little into the mattress.
It felt wonderful to be, in a way, trapped, sandwiched between Colton and the mattress.
I felt secure and safe…finally, since I rarely felt like that in my day-to-day
life.

But my working
life, my daily life, that was far behind me….right now I was getting fucked by
Colton, and that was all I could think of. That was all I knew. That was my
whole world.

Before I knew
it, Colton’s cock had gone right inside me again…the same wet and warm place
that had received him just moments before.

It felt
different. It always felt different from different angles.

Once again,
Colton was showing that he was much more adept, much more skilled than the
average guy. Or was he really? Was it just that we had something special
between us, making Colton’s cock and his thrusts feel especially good? If I’d
had to choose which was true, I would have chosen the second. But even then I
couldn’t kid myself too much. I knew that Colton must have been with many, many
women. After all, he had just kicked out one from this very hotel room, this
very bed.

He was thrusting
just as fast as before, if not faster. Sometimes when I was on my stomach, guys
weren’t able to penetrate deep enough. But Colton could. Colton’s cock could.
It went all the way in. It was just right.

“Oh, baby,” I
said, moaning.

I instinctively
reached down, sliding a hand between my taut stomach and the mattress…usually this
was when I reached down and massage my clit, going as fast as I could in order
to come as fast as possible…or at least before the guy finished.

But the truth
was that I didn’t need it. I didn’t need clitoral stimulation this time. I
didn’t need to use my own hand.

I was beginning
to orgasm, to climax, just from penetration, from his beautiful cock ramming me
over and over, from his hot body pressing down against mine, from his weight,
his sensual musky smell….

I climaxed. It
was wonderful. It felt like pleasure simply pouring up and through me. It felt
as if it would never end.

“I’m coming,” I
said, moaning loudly, as if we were all alone on an island with no one to hear
us. The reality was that the guests in the neighboring hotel rooms probably did
hear me—it was simply that loud.

“I know,” said
Colton, without a trace of humor in his voice. His voice was simply ringing
with sex, with lust, with desire.

In a moment, he
was coming too. We climaxed like that, together, with me underneath him,
pressed down into the mattress.

His powerful
bucking stopped. He made one final movement, shoving his cock as far and as
deep inside of me as he could, before freezing. I felt his cock spasming as it
pumped load of cum after load of cum.

I was sure I
could feel his cum flooding my insides…the thought of it seemed to increase my
own pleasure.

I moaned again
loudly.

Colton grunted
as the last of his cum pumped from his mighty cock.

“Wow,” he said,
rolling off me, and collapsing on the bed.

I lay where I was.
The most intense portion of the orgasm was over, but I was still feeling the
waves of pleasure washing through me.

Colton felt
completely depleted. He looked over at the woman who he had just had sex with
in his hotel room…he had picked her up at his disaster of an autograph press
meeting…at a stripper bar no less. It was a good thing he had fired that
disaster of a manager…he could find a better one himself. Maybe he would even
be his own manager.

This woman had
been completely wild in bed. She had squirmed and moaned in all the right ways
that had turned him on like nothing else.

Unfortunately,
for the life of him, Colton couldn’t even begin to remember her name.

He was still wickedly
hung over from the night before. He had taken a whiskey at the club during the
signing, thinking that it would help him recover. Unfortunately, it had just
made him worse. For a couple minutes, he had actually felt drunk all over
again.

Now, he still
had a pounding headache, and his body felt like it was made of lead. He hoped
his performance hadn’t been too bad…after all, it had seemed like the woman had
enjoyed herself. He certainly had…he had needed that…needed some sexual release
with a proper woman.

She had been so
different than the young 18-year-old girl fans that normally flocked to him
after the rodeo matches. She had a certain mature air about her, a sexual air,
and of course she simply was more experienced and really seemed like she knew what
she was doing.

Plus, there had
been some kind of connection between them during the sex...it wasn’t something
that had happened often, if ever, to Colton, so he wasn’t sure if he had just
been imagining it or what. But he had felt something…it had been as if her body
was communicating its desires directly to Colton…some invisible thread or
magnetic force between them.

She seemed to
be sleeping now. She was snoring ever so softly, and her naked breasts were
rising and falling as she breathed in her sleep. She had fallen asleep on her
side, with one arm around Colton.

She looked so
cute, so beautiful, that Colton actually felt some kind of pain in his chest.
This was a feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long time…not since he was a
teenager and first in love.

“Shit,” said
Colton, to himself. “This has already gotten serious, and I don’t even know her
fucking name.”

He got up,
slowly slinking out from under the woman’s beautiful arm, so as not to wake her
up. Standing there, above her, he looked carefully at her body, examining every
inch of her beauty. She wasn’t like the models on TV and magazines, nor like
the porn stars. She was a real beauty…a natural, the kind of woman that made
him think of having children…

He shook that thought
out of his head. He didn’t have time for children, let alone a serious
relationship. After all, he needed to think about his career. He needed to
think about finding a new manager. He couldn’t afford to get caught up in this
shit…in love…not right now.

He needed to
clear his head. He stood for a moment in the bathroom mirror, looking at his
naked body. He was covered in tattoos. Each meant something to him. Each was a
story. Each was a representation of another time in his life, a representation
of some obstacle he had overcome.

This was
nothing but another obstacle. He had to overcome it just like all the others.
He needed to do what he had to do. So he did what he always did: he buried his
feelings deep down, locking them away deep inside himself.

Colton dressed
quickly and silently, careful not to wake up the beautiful woman on the bed…the
beautiful woman that he knew he felt something for…something so powerful that
the only thing he knew to do was run away from it…run as far away and as fast
as he could.

He gathered his
things and left through the back entrance to the hotel. His truck was parked
out back. He threw his duffel bag in the passenger’s seat.

On the flatbed
portion of his pickup, his motorcycle was sitting there, strapped in, just
waiting to be ridden.

With a little bit
of work, he undid the straps and lowered the motorcycle to the parking lot
pavement with the aid of a moveable metal ramp.

It was a Triumph
motorcycle. He had always preferred this brand. It looked something like an old
fashioned Harley from the 1950s. It was the same model that Bob Dylan had
favored in the 1960s.

The stock model
of this bike was already fast. But Colton had paid good money to have it
modified. Now, underneath the classic exterior, a wickedly fast modern engine
was waiting to be used, waiting to propel the bike much faster than the traffic
laws allowed.

Colton checked
the bike. Even though he was a rodeo star, he knew quite a lot about
motorcycles, and not just as a fan boy. He actually understood quite well how
they worked.

All the parts
were working…everything was in order.

He swung one
blue-jeaned leg over the motorcycle.

He hit the
ignition, kicking the bike to life.

The engine
roared. He spun the accelerator handle. With the bike in neutral, the engine
roared.

In a moment, he
was off.

Colton roared
out of the dark hotel parking lot, his single headlight illuminating a path in
front of him.

He found
himself speeding through the cool Texas night. He didn’t have on a motorcycle
helmet or even a leather jacket. He just had his tight blue jeans and his
western shirt, which was flapping wildly in the wind. But he didn’t care. He
knew what he was doing, and he’d only ever had one serious accident. And he’d
learned well from that what not to do.

He was out on
the open road. Nothing could have felt better…if only he hadn’t been hung over.

There had been
a time when Colton had needed to choose between his rodeo career and motorcycle
racing. He had shown an early talent for both. It was a hard call now whether
he had made the right decision…he was certainly ranked highly, as his former
manager had just recently told him. But the life wasn’t what he had expected,
to say the least.

He needed a new
manager as soon as possible.

He pulled over
to the side of the road, downshifting and braking.

Colton took out
his cell phone. He checked the time. It was a little late. But not too late for
a star like him, he thought, laughing to himself….how could he be so full of
himself?…but it was good to laugh at oneself, even for silly reasons, like a
funny phrase that popped into one’s head.

He stopped
laughing long enough to make a phone call. He still had an old flip phone for a
cell phone…aside from motorcycles, he had never been one for fancy new gadgets.
He just liked things that worked.

“John? Hey,
this is Colton.”

“Colton! How
are you, man? I just was looking at the rankings in the paper. Not bad…not bad
at all, buddy. Not for an old Amarillo boy like you, eh?”

Colton laughed.
“You got that right,” he said. “But we got to stay humble, right? Us kids from
Amarillo didn’t have much when we were growing up, and we got to remember
that.”

Colton and John
were old school friends. Colton’s parents had never been around much. They had
spent most of their time at the bars getting drunk together. John’s parents had
been much more stable. They had owned a motorcycle shop, so Colton and John
spent almost every afternoon after school there, slowly learning how to help
out around the shop, and eventually how to repair motorcycles.

It was through
John and his parents that Colton had gotten into rodeo. He and John had started
riding their motorcycles to the local events, just to watch. Eventually they’d
gotten involved in some amateur events. Initially, John had showed much more
talent than Colton. Colton still thought John had more talent than he did…at
least naturally speaking. But John had stopped his career right when he was
starting to get really good, right when he could have turned pro…just to go to
college. Now, he was a lawyer. He was still interested in the sport, but his
bull riding days were long over.

“So what’s
going on, Colton? I haven’t heard from you in a couple years now.”

“I’m sorry, man.
It’s just…the whole rodeo thing has really…it’s been tough.”

“Doesn’t seem
like it’d be so bad to be in first place,” said John. “I’m sure there are a lot
of perks to the job. I mean the girls alone, man, am I right? They must be
flocking to you.”

“I’d be lying
if I said they weren’t,” said Colton. “But honestly I wish I’d settled down
like you, a wife and kids.”

“I wouldn’t say
that so fast if I were you,” said John, lowering his voice, as if his wife was
nearby and could hear him. “So what is the famous Colton doing anyway calling
me at midnight? I’m dying to know what the favor is.”

“How do you
know it’s a favor I need?” said Colton, growing a little upset. But it was OK.
He knew John didn’t mean anything by it. They were such old friends, they could
say practically anything to each other. They were also such old friends that
they knew how the other one worked perfectly. John and his family had happily
given Colton everything he had now: they’d given him the future in the rodeo
that his parents had been unable to provide him. John’s parents had kept
driving Colton to practice even after John had abandoned the sport entirely and
left for college in New York.

“I just know,
Colton, buddy,” said John, laughing into the phone. “It’s no big deal. Just
spit it out already. I don’t have much time. I still have some chores to do…take
out the trash, do the dishes...”

“She’s really
got you working then, your wife, right?” said Colton, chuckling a little to
himself.

“Ain’t that
right,” said John. “But listen I’m not complaining. She’s a great woman.”

“She is,” said
Colton. “Fine, I’ll get on with it then. I had to fire my manager. There’s no
point in going into the story much. But I need someone new. I need someone
really good.”

“Aren’t there a
lot of guys that specialize in managing rodeo stars?” said John. “I’m sure
you’ll have no problem finding one if you’re number one in the whole country.”

“It’s not
that…it’s that these guys are really good at doing a certain thing…they know
about the rodeo. But they don’t know about anything else…they don’t know about
making someone a regular celebrity, you know? Someone with popular appeal. My
guy had me working events at strip clubs…”

“Wow, sounds
terrible,” said John, sarcastically. “All those naked chicks around…completely
terrible, man.”

“But really,
it’s a real problem. I’m not going to be able to stay on the bull forever, so
to speak. And I don’t really have any other skills.”

“What about
motorcycles?”

“At this point,
I have more of a fan boy knowledge. I don’t know enough to actually work for
anyone. And if I was a bigger star with bigger mass appeal, I’d be able to work
doing promotions or something…it’s just that I’ve seen too many guys who were
once great wind up in awful positions…I can’t take this life forever, John.
I’ve got to find some stability, and this is the only way I know how to do it.”

“I hear you,
man. And yeah, I know of some of the guys you’re talking about. Having watched
the sport for years, it’s hard not to take note of the old guys you used to
admire…they’re just no where to be seen now, and probably living without much
more than social security checks to support themselves.”

“Exactly,” said
Colton. “So I need someone who understands…well, who understands the wider
world better. Maybe some kind of media expert. I don’t know exactly who I’m
looking for.”

“Look, Colton,
I have just the guy for you.”

“Shit, yeah?
This is why I called you, John. You always have the weirdest and most
unexpected connections.”

“Well, being a
lawyer for celebrities will do that to you. Listen, this guy is the absolute
best. And he’s always looking for new projects. A rodeo star like you would be
perfect for him. He’ll make you a household name within the next few months, I
can practically promise you that.”

“Wow,” said
Colton, unable to think of anything to say. This was exactly what he’d been
looking for.

“Now, I have to
warn you. This guy is…a little unconventional. He’s a little weird. Perhaps a
little eccentric in his methods. But there’s no arguing with the fact that the
guy gets results. He’s worked with practically a quarter of the newest movie
starts.”

“He sounds
absolutely perfect. What’s his name?”

“His name?
Cambridge Whitecliff.”