Ride on the Wild Side

Emily shivered and cursed Keith vehemently. This was all his fault, and really made her wonder why she stayed with such an asshole. She shivered and huddled closer to the cold stone wall of the comfort station where she was stranded, at a rest area somewhere on I-81 in Virginia. They had been going to New Orleans for spring break with some friends when nature called and Keith grudgingly pulled off at the rest stop, just outside of Binghamton. She had come out of the restroom just in time to see the car driving away. Emily knew Keith and his buddies were jerks, but she expected Rachel and Donna to make them come back. After an hour of waiting, she realized this was another of Keith's little 'jokes', which is to say, humiliating, unthinking, and uncaring abuse of her. Rather than try to head back to the Syracuse campus, she decided to hitch to New Orleans.

She had been lucky and caught a ride with a family from Binghamton to Scranton, but the next three had been lone men and all had eventually tried to get her to have sex with them. Emily wasn't a prude by any means, but she felt that giving sex for a ride was too close to prostitution. The last one had been a traveling salesman who had put her out at this godforsaken rest area when she flatly refused to give him a blowjob. Now, she was cold, lonely, and beginning to lose any hope of getting a ride before morning.

A tractor-trailer flew past and the sound of its engines dwindled into silence. The night was cold, and the insects had gone to ground, which left a thick shroud of silence over everything. She was considering trying to figure out a way to sleep in the ladies' room without lying on the floor, when she heard the sound of a motor approaching. It became louder and long before she saw it, she knew it was a motorcycle. She was a little worried. She knew bikers often traveled in packs and there were many stories about them being violent.

Emily was only five foot one and, at one hundred and twenty pounds, she was not very imposing. She had a nice figure, with heavy breasts and long legs, for her height. To make matters worse she only wore a thin summer dress. It had been perfect for the sunny day they had left Syracuse, but it wasn't enough to keep her from shivering now and did little to hide her charms. She suddenly felt very small and vulnerable.

The bike rolled to a stop at the closest parking spot and the rider dismounted. Emily felt a little better when she was sure it was only the one bike. With the killing of the throaty engine, silence descended, once again. The rider stretched languidly, and then she took off her helmet. She was a thin, tall woman, probably about five eleven, but she moved very gracefully. She wore a black leather jacket, black leather pants and heavy boots, the clothes serving to conceal the shape of her body, but Emily's impression was of someone who was very willowy.

As the rider came up the short walk from the parking lot to the comfort station, she passed out of shadow and into the harsh glare of the lights. Her face was exotically beautiful. Her skin was ebony, as dark as any Emily had ever encountered, but her hair was blonde and worn very short, almost in a crew cut. Her eyes, striking blue, were shown off by high cheekbones and a long, aquiline nose. Her chin was strong and prominent, but her features were softened by full, pouty lips.

The woman stopped in front of Emily and her eyes traversed the smaller girl, from her feet to her big brown eyes and long dark hair. The look was leisurely and seemed to be appraising. Emily felt herself flush slightly, but smiled tentatively when their eyes met. The black woman smiled back, revealing beautiful white teeth, before she continued into the restroom. Emily was a little confused; the look the woman had given her made her feel warm and tingly inside, but she also felt nervous in her presence. She had an aura of confidence and power that the small coed found at once discomforting and exciting.

Emily had composed herself by the time the woman emerged from the restroom, and took a deep breath. She wanted to ask for a ride, but, as soon as her eyes met the woman's, she lost her nerve. Those blue eyes were like ice, daring anyone to try and get closer to their owner. Emily managed to smile again and the woman chuckled on her way back to the bike. She picked her helmet up off the seat and started to put it on, and then it seemed to dawn on her that there wasn't another vehicle anywhere to be seen. She stood for a few moments and then walked back up to Emily, with her helmet under her arm.

"You alone?" the big woman asked. Her voice was deep and throaty, with a soft accent that sounded almost French to Emily, who was used to French-Canadian students.

"Yes," Emily replied, almost stammering. Something about this woman was very disconcerting. Not in a bad way, but something almost arousing, which only left Emily feeling even more nervous.

"How'd you get here?" the woman demanded. Emily started to explain, but the words became a torrent and, before she finally ran out of breath, she had told this stranger her whole story. She was embarrassed by her predicament, and really didn't know why she had been so candid with a complete stranger.

"So, you still going to try to hitch to Nawlins?"

"I guess," Emily said. The woman looked her over again, with that frank glance that sent the blood rushing to the little woman's head.

"Ever ridden bitch before?"

"Bitch?"

"Yeah, ever ridden a bike?"

"Oh, no, I haven't," Emily admitted.

"Well, I am heading south, if you want a ride," she said and turned on her heel. Emily was very confused, but found herself almost running along behind the big woman to keep up.

Once there, Emily got a good look at the bike. It was huge, all chrome and black, save for a red hourglass painted on the gas tank. A bedroll, a sleeping bag, and a haversack were lashed with bungee cords to the chrome post that stood up from the end of the seat, and the woman was digging into a black leather saddlebag. She pulled out a heavy leather jacket and tossed it to Emily. She also pulled out some other rolled-up garments and walked around the bike to Emily.

"Don't just stand there, put it on, girl."

The jacket was huge and fell to almost mid thigh. The woman rolled out what she was carrying and knelt before Emily.

"Hike up your skirt," she commanded.

"What?" Emily exclaimed. The woman stood up and stared down at her, capturing her eyes and holding them.

"It's forty degrees or less, out. You are about to add an eighty mile per hour wind to that. Your asshole boyfriend took your clothes and I don't have anything that will fit you beside these, but you can't wear them over a fucking skirt."

Emily felt her will drain away and blushed deeply as she hiked her skirt up around her waist. Beneath the skirt, she wore only powder-blue French-cut panties. The big woman knelt again and whistled.

"Damn," she said.

She fastened the leather chaps around Emily's waist and cinched them up tight. She then fastened them around the girl's thighs, calves, and ankles, with buckles and straps. Emily was blushing scarlet and wished she would do it faster, but the woman seemed to be in no hurry at all, and her hands brushed Emily's sensitive skin so many times it was hard to believe it was accidental. Once the chaps were fastened, the woman stood up, and Emily let her skirt fall, leaving only the sensuous and exciting feeling of the leather on her smooth legs.

The woman handed her a pink helmet from the saddlebag and, once Emily had it strapped on, she slipped onto the bike behind the black woman. The bedroll forced her to press her hips forward and, once she found a place for her legs, she was pretty comfortable. Until the woman started the engine, that is.

The tall woman walked the bike backwards and Emily's arms flew to the seat, but she could find very little to hold on to. The powerful engine sent a thrumming vibration through the seat and into her legs and abdomen. Once the bike was pointed towards the onramp, the black woman turned to plug a wire into Emily's helmet and another into her own. She then plugged them both into a pair of jacks on the bike's control panel and flipped a switch.

"Put your arms around my waist and lean in against my back. Keep your legs in tight and don't lean back," the words came from inside her helmet. Emily complied, noticing fleetingly that in this position the vibrations from the engine seemed stronger. The woman wound the accelerator out, and the big machine roared off into the velvety darkness.

The acceleration was quick and Emily felt her stomach lurch, her hands tightened around the woman's waist, and her eyes snapped shut. The first sensation after that was of the wind, tearing at her skirt, legs and jacket. Her skirt billowed back, exposing her upper thighs and panties, but she was afraid to let go and try to tuck it under her. When she finally dared to open her eyes, the road, trees, and everything else alongside the highway were moving past in a blur. She closed her eyes again and ducked her head until the helmet rested between the tall woman's shoulder blades.

"You all right?" the soft voice purred in her ear.

"No," Emily squeaked. The black woman chuckled.

"First time on a bike is a little scary, I guess. Just hold tight and open your eyes, you'll get used to it. It's not like riding in a car, there you're not really experiencing the road, you're just watching it go by, like on a TV. Here you get to be a part of it all."

"I forgot to ask your name," Emily said. She opened her eyes, but kept staring forward.

"You can call me Dee."

For the next few minutes, Emily slowly got brave enough to look past Dee's shoulders, at the road. The night was dark and the wind was cold, but the jacket and chaps kept her warm. After a few minutes of getting used to it, she managed to tuck her dress in under the sleeping bag behind her, so it wouldn't get ruined.

Emily found she actually liked the adrenalin rush. Dee slipped the big machine into the left hand lane and passed a tractor-trailer. It was so close that Emily felt as if she could reach out and touch it, and she felt herself getting nervous again, so she closed her eyes. She decided opening them was a bad idea, settled in, and held tight.

The way she was sitting forced her pussy tightly against the seat, and the vibrations from the engine had become distractingly pleasant. Emily had been on her period in the days just before they left, and Keith refused to touch her when she was menstruating. It annoyed her, because that was when she was the horniest, but she had expected to make up for it on the trip.

With her eyes closed, her other senses seemed more acute and the vibrations began to really arouse her.

Emily squirmed in the seat, experimenting, until she settled in the position that made the vibrations feel the best. The throb of the engine soon had the material of her panties slick with her juices. She found that she could really crank up the sensations by working her hips down and forward, but she had to be careful not to be too obvious — she didn't want Dee to know what was going on. What had began as an amusing game, became sweet torture after an hour on the road. She was so hot, now, every nerve ending seemed to be tingling and she could feel her nipples poking out. She had her bottom lip held tightly between her teeth to keep from making any noises, but when the big bike hit a test section and began to bounce wildly, Emily couldn't hold back a moan.

The moment the bike hit smooth road again, Dee straightened up, slipped one of her hands back between them, and forced it between Emily's thighs. Her index finger pressed inward and began to stroke Emily's pussy through the slick satin.

"Oh god!" she cried out. The blood in her veins felt like fire, and she groaned as the first of several powerful contractions hit her. Being carried away on a red wave of bliss, she heard Dee's voice in her ear.

"Cum for me baby, cum for mama."

Emily couldn't speak. She just held on tight and shuddered as wave upon wave of pleasure assaulted her senses. Even through the heady pleasure, she could feel the wind whipping over her, the bike moving on the road, and Dee's hard body. The sensations blended, warped, and melded, crossing over each other and joining the spasms of joy, until the experience became something new and thrilling. Not just an orgasm, but a whole new level of pleasure. Emily rode the waves and then enjoyed the warm, relaxed sensation that spread from her pussy throughout her body in its aftermath. When her mind began to function again, though, she was feeling acutely embarrassed.

"Goodness, I'm sorry," she blurted out.

"Don't sweat it. My ex used to get off all the time, that's why I had Deke install the intercom. I like to listen and she was a screamer. Are you always so quiet when you cum?" the silken voice seemed to whisper right in her ear. Emily felt herself blush from her chest to her forehead. This was so surreal to her, discussing an orgasm with a complete stranger. She blushed even deeper when she thought about it and realized this woman had brought her all these delicious sensations.

"No, I'm usually pretty loud," she admitted.

"Nice."

The conversation ended there. Dee seemed content to say no more, and Emily was struggling with the implications of what had just happened. She had never thought of herself as bisexual. She had never really thought about it at all, but as the road flashed by and the motor noise became a monotonous drone, she found herself thinking about many things. Most of all, she thought about the pleasant vibrations running through her nether regions, and the warm fuzzy feeling that came with them. They were almost enough to make her wish she had a bike of her own. Or better yet, someone who owned one. She didn't think she would ever feel comfortable driving one, but she was really starting to enjoy the ride.

Dawn was about to break, when Dee steered the big bike off the highway and onto a short off-ramp. A left-hand turn and another brought the bike and its riders under an awning, in front of a motel. Emily was tired and needed to use the bathroom in the worst way. She hopped off the bike and almost ran into the lobby and past the blurry figures of a sleepy clerk and a bored guard, watching her.

When she emerged from the restroom, she noticed the clerk and guard staring at her. Dee was already out on the bike, and she was the only one in the lobby. The looks were not exactly hostile, but there was some deeper feeling of menace in them, something unfriendly. She hurried out and slipped onto the bike behind Dee. The feeling of oppression was gone as soon as her arms went around the leather-clad biker. It was strange how she felt so safe there, and when the big bike roared to life, she thrilled.

Dee drove around to the back of the hotel, and parked in front of room 518. She took the saddlebags, haversack, and bedroll, and threw them over her shoulder before opening the door and going into the room. Emily stood and watched the sun as it broke over the tree line, far away. She was strung out from the road, even the orgasm hadn't allowed her to relax, and now she was wired. She walked into the room, closing the door behind her.

Dee was in the bathroom, and Emily suddenly realized why the clerk and guard had been staring. The room had only a double bed, and Emily blushed when she imagined what was going through their minds as she walked out. Her embarrassment quickly faded into introspection, though.

She had always appreciated the beauty in her friends and, occasionally, an especially attractive woman would catch her eye. She had never considered it out of the ordinary. Now, she had to wonder if perhaps her interest hadn't been more than just the norm. If it was, then her interest had never translated into action, with either a woman or a sensitive man. She always ended up with bad boys. She had always assumed it was because there was something about them that she found sexy and dangerous, but now she wondered. Every boy she had dated was the same: egotistical, full of himself, callous towards her, self-absorbed. There was no intimacy; the boys she dated had no room for consideration of her feelings.

Still thinking about this, she busied herself moving the small table and pushing a pair of chairs together to make an improvised bed.

She couldn't really be upset about Dee having gotten a room with just a double bed. The tall biker was giving her a lift in exchange for nothing and didn't even really have to let her share the room. She seemed willing to let Emily stay inside, and even that was a simple act of kindness she wasn't used to. She always dated bad boys who wouldn't have given a shit where she slept, if it weren't for having sex. She had long suspected that maybe the attraction for her wasn't in the danger, but was really in the fact that such boys were safe. They were safe, because she never had to let them in, never had to open herself up, or face real intimacy. They could never really hurt her, because they never got to know her. Oh, she had taken a few beatings, but that kind of pain was preferable to opening herself up and getting cut inside, where the bruises and scars never go away.

Dee came out of the bathroom and sat on the bed. She wore only a thin white cotton 'wife beater' t-shirt and her leather pants and boots. As she began to unlace the boots, Emily studied her in detail. She was tall and very thin, but not emaciated; rather, she had the lithe and graceful lines of an athlete. Her arms were supple, and the muscles were very well defined, but not bulky. Small breasts rode high on her chest, and her waist was tiny, leading into slim hips that held only a hint of roundness. The pants rode low on her hips revealing the top of her red boxers. The word that came to Emily's mind, unbidden, was tight; the woman was a tight package.

When Dee finished removing her boots and socks, she scooted back on the bed, until she was sitting against the headboard. From her haversack on the floor, she retrieved a black book and copied some information from a handful of receipts she dug out of her pants pocket. Emily pushed a chair between the two, and studied her makeshift bed. It wouldn't be very comfortable, but it beat sleeping on the floor. She didn't dare consider the other option. She felt deep down that she could have more to fear from this enigmatic woman than from all her bad boys combined.

"What you doing, girl?"

"I am making a place to sleep, and my name is Emily," she replied without looking up. Dee chuckled and was silent for a short while. When Emily looked up from her work to grab a pillow, Dee caught her eyes.

"You're welcome to share the bed, I don't bite. Well, not unless you ask nicely," she added with a smile that brought a blush to Emily's face.

"This will be fine for me," Emily said, indicating her makeshift bed. "Can I have a pillow or two?"

Dee stood up and approached Emily. Involuntarily, the small brunette took a step backwards. The tall woman's eyes were flashing with a strange light, and Emily felt her insides go all tingly.

"What are you afraid of? Is it me? Or are you afraid of yourself?" Dee said quietly as she continued to close in on Emily. The smaller woman felt her ass bump against the door of the room. She was unable to break eye contact with the taller woman, and couldn't seem to find her voice. Dee's hands pressed flat against the door on either side of her head and Emily became aware of the woman's scent and, to her stunned surprise, of her own suddenly erect nipples.

"So which is it?"

"I don't know," Emily admitted sheepishly. Dee flashed her that smile again and leaned closer, allowing her elbows to rest on the door with her hands. There was barely any room between their bodies, and Dee's face was only inches from Emily's.