Chinese Takeout Ch. 02

"Ready?" Keith asked.

"Oh yeah, I am so ready," I answered, my arms going round his waist as I held on tight, leaning in against him, pressing up against his back. Let that Chua bitch watch.

The Harley growled as Keith put it into gear and pulled out into the drive through lane, easing into the flow. Actually, there was no flow. Everyone had stopped. The Mom's in their cars picking their kids up mostly just watched in horror as we rumbled past them. My fellow students watched wide-eyed. Every eye followed us as Keith eased the Harley round into the exit and onto the street. He gave the throttle a twist. Those car-alarm starting mufflers gave a sudden bellow of muted thunder as the Harley accelerated down the road. Girls walking home all turned to look, some of them pointing as they saw me on the back. I was kind of glad now that the helmet hid my face.

Changing gear, changing again, faster still, my skirt blowing up around my waist in the wind of our passage as we passed car after car. Soccer Mom after Soccer Mom. I laughed delightedly as the nightmare of every teenage schoolgirl's parents swept me down the road on his thundering iron steed. There was no nervousness this time. No wondering what to do. I held onto Keith, tucked in tight against him, looking over his shoulder, feeling the power of the Harley's engine as I sat on the rear seat. I leaned with Keith, no longer concerned that I might fall off. Keith knew how to ride and I knew enough after that brief ride on Saturday to just go with him as we swept down the road.

"Enjoying yourself," Keith asked as we stopped at a set of lights. Everyone in the cars around us was looking. Lots of students with their Mom's. Some guys now too, from our sibling school, Saint Francis Xavier. Those guys looked either envious or admiring. And me? I just wanted to squeeze Keith, hold him as tight as I could, press myself against him. So I did.

"Oh yeah," I replied, hugging him from behind. He felt so good. He smelt so good. I couldn't get enough of holding him. Holding him tight, squeezing myself against him, my breasts crushed up against his back. That felt even better.

"How about we ride for an hour or so and then I take you home," he said, the lights still red.

Jesus, I'd almost forgotten the baby-sitting gig. "That's fine," I said, "I gotta be home by six at the latest, I have to go baby-sitting at six thirty."

"No problem," he said as the lights turned green. Let's ride for an hour and then you can make me a coffee."

Yes! Yes! He wanted to come inside with me again, not just drop me off. I heard him laughing and suddenly realized I'd yelled "Yes! Yes!" out loud. God, how embarrassing. Behind the helmet, my face burned. He reached down and patted one of my knees while I burned up. Actually, after he patted that knee, his hand just stayed there, resting on my knee. He was wearing gloves, yes, but they were fingerless and I could feel his fingers on my skin. They felt so good.

I wondered how he could ride with just one hand but he seemed to be doing just fine and hey, he was the one driving this beast, so I didn't worry about it. I just held him and enjoyed his hand on my knee. Stroking my knee now. Stroking my leg higher, almost all the way to my hips. He found my lycra shorts. I felt his fingers exploring them. I giggled. "I put shorts on under my skirt," I yelled in his ear.

"Damn!" he yelled back, making me laugh. Did he really think I was silly enough to jump on a motorcycle in a little skirt wearing only panties. "I was hoping," he added as his hand went back to the grip while he changed down, slowing as the traffic built up. Ooooohhhh-kay.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we idled onto the Parkway.

"Taking you down the Parkway, then down Ninth Line and round onto Jefferson, then back in on the Freeway."

"Great." God, this was just so much fun. It was even better when we eased onto the Parkway and he went faster. It wasn't quite rush hour yet, the traffic hadn't built up and Keith opened the Harley up. I loved it. I loved sitting perched behind him as we swept down the road, the wind in our faces, the throaty roar of the Harley around us, the feel of the Harley beneath me, shuddering and vibrating as we growled down the highway, Keith easing us through the curves so that it almost felt like we were flying.

We swept off onto the Ninth Line exit in a long gentle curve, Keith leaning the bike over, me leaning with him until I thought that if I put my hand out I could touch the road as it flew by. We eased into Ninth Line and now it was all open country. One of those narrow two lane roads, grass, trees, farmland, the occasional farmhouse, no commuter traffic. Ninth Line was no freeway, it curved unexpectedly, there were hills, bridges, the occasional farm vehicle. Keith powered the Harley down that road with the same casual ease he'd displayed on Saturday in the suburban streets leading to my home. It was all new to me but I trusted Keith, I trusted him to know what he was doing and I just sat relaxed behind him, holding him and reveling in the ride.

The sound of the Harley, the feel of the Harley growling beneath me, the vibrations from the road and the engine, Keith to hold onto and press myself up against, the way we swept around corners and up and down hills, slowing here, accelerating there, the wind in my face so fresh and clean, the Harley almost alive beneath us. I'd never felt like this before, so free, just the two of us on the road, together, uncaged, part of everything around us, not constricted within the glass and steel cage of a car. THIS was so enjoyable. With Keith, THIS was everything I'd never dreamed about but now that I'd experienced it, how could I ever go back to anything else. I was so happy I wanted to cry.

Instead, I just rested my head against Keith's back for a moment before once more looking over his shoulder and taking in the road unreeling before us. Tasting the wind. Tasting freedom. I wished we could just ride and ride and ride, ride off into the distance together and just keep going forever. I knew we couldn't, but I wished we could. We eased of Ninth onto Jefferson and then onto the Freeway back into town.

"Want to go a bit faster?" Keith called out as we banked onto the Freeway.

"Sure," I yelled back. Faster? Weren't we already going fast.

No. We weren't. Keith twisted the throttle gently, the Harley's engine responded, muted thunder rolled in our wake as we surged down the fast lane, faster, faster still, flying by cars as if they were standing still. The wind was no longer a breeze, it was a roaring gale, buffeting me, blowing my hair wildly, catching at my jacket, blowing my skirt up around my waist and keeping it there. We wove through the traffic, I held tight to Keith, just going with him, leaning with him, left, right, left, tucked in behind him and sheltered from the worst of the wind by his body, his strength. Laughing with sheer happiness. When we slowed, it was such a letdown, the exhilaration of the ride fading along with the engine noise as we eased off the Freeway and into the suburbs.

That entire hour went so fleetingly, it seemed like only a moment before Keith turned the Harley into the driveway of my parent's house and stopped, turning the engine off after we'd come to a halt. It hadn't been a moment, it'd been a full hour but that hour seemed to have flown by in an instant. The muted thunder I was seated on died away. I clung to Keith's back for a long long moment, resting my cheek against his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his leathers, of him, trying to imprint it into my mind before I swung myself off to stand beside him. This time I managed to unbuckle his helmet on my own. Sitting on his bike, watching me, he smiled. I smiled back, feeling small and shy now.

"I hope you liked your ride." His voice was soft and gentle, his smile warm. Little thrills rushed up and down my spine as I remembered Saturday and his kiss. His lips on mine. His hand on me. Thinking of his hand and where he had touched me, I was instantly wet. I could feel my own wetness, my own excitement. Knowing that, my excitement grew, feeding of itself, feeding of my anticipation.

"It was..." I didn't know how to put it into words. I didn't want to sound gushy. "It was the best afternoon ever."

He grinned as I handed him back his helmet. "Want to do it again?"

I couldn't help it. I jumped up and down clapping my hands. "You mean it? Really. You're serious?" Oh god, I was so happy. Happy? I was in heaven. Paradise.

"Really." He was laughing at me. "What're you doing Saturday?"

My heart was pounding. "You."

I realized what I'd said. Oh God! Had I really said that? My face turned bright red. I was going to burn up from pure embarrassment!

"I mean, going for a ride with you?" I felt so flustered. "If you like, I mean, I don't have anything planned. I'd love to ... I mean, if it's..."

He reached out and touched my lips with one finger. "Shhhh, I know. I'd love to take you for a ride Jay-Lin. Now relax. Take a deep breath."

I did. God, I felt so silly.

Keith grinned at me. I couldn't help it, I smiled back.

"How long before you go babysitting?" he asked.

I checked my cell. Five thirty. "I'm getting picked up at six thirty." I smiled. "Do you have time for that coffee?"

He smiled back as he swung himself of his Harley. "With you? Always."

"Smooth-talker." I giggled. This was turning out as good as I'd hoped. Saturday! Yes yes yes!

"You ain't seen nothing yet."

He followed me inside. I shut the front door behind him. When I turned, he was standing there looking at me. My heart stopped at the look on his face, in his eyes.

"Coffee?" I squeaked, my voice an octave higher than normal.

"I think I better," he said, his eyes burning into mine.

He held my hand as we walked into the kitchen. HE HELD MY HAND! Oh God! I could barely think, I was so happy. His hand was huge, engulfing mine completely. He held me from behind as I fired up the coffee machine, those massive arms wrapping around my waist as I filled the percolator and turned it on. Task done, I sighed and leaned back against him, just enjoying feeling him hold me, feeling his arms around me. They felt so good. So strong. His arms were bigger than my legs. He just felt so good. I rested the back of my head against his chest, feeling his chin resting on the top of my head, his breath ruffling my hair.

Feeling his erection pressing firmly against my butt.

Was just holding me like that getting him so excited? So big and hard? It felt huge. Not that I'd ever felt one before. It wasn't like I had anything to compare it to. But still, it felt huge. Huge and hard and exciting and terrifying all at one and the same time. I had no idea what to do. No idea what I was doing. No idea what I should do. I felt his breath in my hair, sending little shivers down my spine. I wasn't tingling now. I was glowing. Burning. Glowing melting molten quivering jelly. Time seemed to stand still. What should I do? I mean, I liked him. A lot. Tremendously. I wanted him. I had no idea what to do. So I just did what I wanted to do.

I pushed my butt back against him.

Oh yes. Big and hard.

"Jay-Lin," he breathed, and I could feel how tense he was.

"Yes," I whispered.

"You're beautiful, girl."

I wasn't sure what to say. "Thankyou."

"I'm looking forward to Saturday. All day with you, okay?" He was. He really was. How that made me feel was indescribable. Happy? Elated? Excited? Scared? Nervous? Exhilarated? All of those together and a lot more.

"Yes." That was more than okay. That was wonderful. It was like when you're five years old and your parents take you to Disneyland. It was magical. I can't describe how I felt except to say that happy was a mild understatement. Also, I was feeling Keith's bulging erection pressed firmly against my butt and I was enjoying that too. It was a nervous and slightly scared enjoyment, but nevertheless the feel of him there, like that, while his arms held me, told me that he wasn't thinking of me as a little girl. I liked that very much.

I liked that so much that I could feel my own wetness, feel my nipples swelling and hardening and aching. I wanted Keith to touch me so much, but I had no idea how to hint at what I wanted. But I wanted. I wanted very much.

The phone rang. I looked at it. Keith's hands released me. When I answered, I was breathing hard.

"Hi, you've reached the Liu's, how can I help you?"

"Hi Jay-Lin, made you run for the phone did I? Sorry 'bout that."

"Hi Uncle Ernie. No problem."

"Just wanted to let you know I'm on my way, running real late though, I'll be at your house around seven fifteen. That okay?" I glanced at the kitchen clock. Five forty five. An extra hour and fifteen minutes with Keith. Yippeeee!

"No problem Uncle Ernie, see you then. I'll be ready. Just beep the horn and I'll come right out, okay."

"Okay, see you in an hour or so."

"Bye."

I hung up. I turned back to Keith. Back to Keith's arms, my arms around his neck, pressing myself against him, looking up at him. "An hour," I breathed, my heart pounding. "We've got an hour."

He smiled. He kissed me. His lips found mine, my mouth opened, opened wide to receive his tongue, to let his tongue slip into my mouth and taste me, explore me, flirt with me, tease me.

"Forget the coffee Jay-Lin," he breathed.

I looked at him. I looked and I stepped back, taking his hand in mine. Without a word I led him from the kitchen into the living room. He followed me as I led him to that beautiful white sheepskin rug that covered half the floor in front of the fireplace. The white sheepskin rug that had always featured so prominently in those daydreams of little black dresses, preppy college guys and sweet romance. Now it was about to feature a biker. And me. And not just in a daydream. I hoped. Oh how I hoped.

Really, I didn't say a word. I just turned and looked at him. Keith took my hands in his and looked at me. He looked into my eyes just as I looked into his. Without a word, he swept me up in his arms effortlessly and knelt with me, lowering me, laying me down on my back on the sheepskin, moving easily to lie beside me, propping himself up on one elbow beside me to look down at me.

For my part, I looked up at him, my heart doing that wild pounding thing again as one of his fingers traced my jawbone from just below my ear to my chin, pausing there. I looked up at him, knowing this was where I wanted to be. Knowing I wanted Keith to kiss me. To touch me. To do whatever he wanted to me. Knowing that if I hadn't actually fallen in love with him, I had the biggest crush I'd ever had on any guy in my entire life on him. My entire body was burning, tingling, glowing. Melting. Wanting. I didn't really know what I wanted but whatever it was, it involved Keith and I knew it.

And Keith, Keith just looked down at me, his expression so serious. His finger under my chin so that I had to look up at him, I had to look into his eyes. Not that I wanted to look anywhere else. I couldn't get enough of looking at him.

"Jay-Lin." He sounded so serious too.

"Yes." I wasn't really talking. It was so hard to talk. It came out as a more or less breathless gasp.

"I'm a lot older than you are."

"I know. You told me how old you are." I didn't care. Thirty Five, schmerty five. Whatever. Really, I didn't care.

"I don't want to take advantage of you girl, you're just a baby."

"I'm eighteen."

"Okay, you're an eighteen year old baby. I mean, I hate to admit it, but this big bad biker is feeling guilty, you look so sweet and innocent. Jesus, you're even wearing a school uniform. I'm feeling like a dirty old man here."

I liked the way he looked at me then. Looked me up and down as I lay on the floor beside him. I actually giggled. "Keith, compared to you I AM just a little girl, really, and I AM sweet and innocent." I lifted one hand to touch the back of his hand, to move it, to hold it against my cheek, to kiss the heel of his hand. "And okay, I can do the math, I'm seventeen years younger than you but I know what I want." I kissed his hand again. "And I'm old enough to know I want you."

And I did. I wanted him so much. I wanted him more than anything I'd ever wanted in my whole entire life.

"I know Jay-Lin, I want you too."

Blushing, I persevered. "I mean, I've never had a boyfriend, I don't know anything, I don't know what to do. I just feel, you know, so ... so ..." Confession time, Jay-Lin. "Like I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing but I want to do whatever it is I don't know with you." I turned my face to bury it against his shoulder, inhaling the smell of him, wanting to make it part of me. "Whatever it is I'm doing, I want it to be with you."

His finger slid under my chin, turned my face to look up at him once more. His expression was so serious. I knew I had to convince him. I had to. I'd just found him, I couldn't bear to lose him. Not because he thought I was a baby. Not because he thought I was too sweet and innocent. I mean, I knew he was a biker. I knew he was almost twice my age. I knew he was no Mr. Nice Guy. But to me he was.

To me.

That was what was important. I didn't care about what he was like to anyone else. I wanted him. I wanted him so much. I wanted him so badly that the fear of losing him hurt. Scared me and hurt me.

"Keith." My voice was a gasp again. A scared, timid and desperate little gasp, but I wanted him so very much. I had to make him understand. I had to. "Keith, just ... Just do what you want to do to me, okay, please, I just found you, I don't want to lose you because you think I'm too young." I felt my eyes water. I felt so desperately afraid. "Just ... just take me as I am Keith, please?"

He looked down at me. I felt so afraid. So very afraid I was going to lose him.

But then he said "Oh hell, Jay-Lin, don't cry," and just like that, he kissed me. His arm under me, his other hand stroking my hair, his lips came down on mine, my mouth opened wide, his tongue met mine like an old lover and we were kissing. That kiss was gentle, delicate, a brushing of his lips against mine, a sharing of breath, a sharing of my soul as I opened my mouth to him and gave him everything I had. My heart, my soul, my desire for him, my excitement, my enthusiasm and happiness. My love.

Everything.

He was breathing hard when his mouth at last lifted from mine. Heck, I was breathing hard as I nestled in his arms, feeling his strength, feeling the solid mass of his body beside me, dwarfing me. His fingers stroked my hair back from my face. Massively large and strong fingers, fingers that I caught with my hand and held as I turned my face to them and kissed them one by one.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice so soft and gentle. So caring.

I smiled up at him. "Do you think so? Really?" I liked how he'd said that. Not just words, but like he really meant it. Like he felt it. Like it came from his heart.

It was his turn to smile. "Yes, I do, really. You're just breathtaking, looking at you, it's like I've walked into a dream and met a fairy princess come to life. You're far too angelic and beautiful for an old guy like me."

Now I wanted to cry from sheer happiness. Nobody except my Mom had ever called me a princess, let alone an angel, and that'd been a long long time ago. "Well, this little princess has met her knight in shining armor. And knights that rescue princesses deserve to be kissed."

"I thought that was frogs." He was laughing.

"Who cares? Knight. Frog. I just want to kiss you." I was so totally honest with him. I knew I'd always be honest with Keith. I did want to kiss him. Badly. Or goodly. Whatever. I pushed him back and lifted myself onto one elbow. He let me push him onto his back. If he hadn't I'd never have moved him. Not in a million years. Now he smiled up at me. I smiled, then giggled, then slid myself up and onto him, my legs either side of him. Sitting up on him, looking down at him, I realized that really, he was a big big guy.