I have several emails asking me what kind of stories to write. And several requesting an example. So, by request, I present you with a sample of my “Bedtime Stories”. I call this one, “The Bitch Seat”
“So, you coming or what?” Peter’s voice sounded almost annoyed over the phone.
“It’s not going to be one of those all day thingys is it? I have already made plans for tonight…” the last thing I wanted to do is get caught up in a long drawn out boring-ass party.
“No, it is just an afternoon get together…some wine, snacks, and some conversation. Jesus Venus, you ain’t got anything else going on right now and it has been a while since you and I had a chance to see each other. It’s not a date you know…and you already know more than half the people that are going to be there. So what the fuck? You in or not?”
Relentless, but he was right, I had absolutely nothing on my plate for the afternoon “alright, whatever. You are coming over to pick me up then?”
“Yeah, and don’t dress like we are going to a club, it is just some friends, casual, you know? I’ll be there in about an hour…see ya then, ok? Bye” and then there was a click and he was gone before I even had a chance to reply.
Casual, non-club clothes…what did that mean? I went with a sunny-bright yellow button up men’s shirt, tied just above my belly button, and a denim skirt. Michigan summers are not always hot, but they are usually muggy. This outfit seemed comfortable and cool.
The hour had come and gone, and the knock on my door surprised me. I opened to see Peter, a band tee shirt and a pair of jeans…I guess I’ll be okay then. “You ready?” he asked, not bothering to come in.
“Yep, let me get my purse and I’ll…”
“Just grab your ID and whatever else, you don’t need your purse” he stated cutting me right off.
“Damn! Aren’t we a bit commandive today!” I gave him a glare as I stuck my license, some cash, and my lipstick in my skirt pocket. “What the hell? Did I step on a testosterone button or something?”
“No, I guess I am just excited, I want to show you my new ride!” he smiled and pulled me through the doorway. I shut my door, made sure it was locked and away we went.
Out in the drive way was a motorcycle. A really fast looking motorcycle. “Is that a crotch-rocket?”
“Hell’s to the yeah!” he beamed, “Fricken’ sweet, isn’t it?”
“I am not a big fan…so, this is what we are riding on?” I was hoping for a car with air conditioning.
“Hell yeah it is! Grab that helmet, I’ll start her up and steady her for you to get on…” he was like a little boy he was so excited. Peter and I had known each other from the old neighborhood, we had grown up together as childhood friends.
The bike roared like it was already going down the road like a bat out of hell and he had a grin all the way across his face, “Get on, Venus!” I looked behind him for the back seat, but what I found instead was a little piece of colored vinyl, not looking much bigger than a hoagie bun.
“Get on what?” I asked. “This little thing behind you?”
“Yeah!” he winked at me, “it’s called the bitch seat!”
“But I am in a skirt!” I pleaded.
“So! Who cares?” he wasn’t really concerned about it “the worst thing that could happen is that it creeps up a little bit and some old dude has a heart attack because part of your ass cheek is showing…”
I hadn’t even thought about that aspect of it. It surely wasn’t making me any more excited about getting on. “You’re an ass!”
“What? I am not going to see anything!” he padded the little seat with his hand. “Now step on the peg with your left foot, and sort of swing your right leg over like you would getting on a horse. Use my shoulders to steady yourself until your right foot finds the other peg.”
“But they’re so high, how comfortable can it be?” I was starting to question why I was going again.
“It is not that bad, you will lean into me and you’ll see it is not as uncomfortable as it looks.” He leaned a bit forward. I still was not convinced.
I got on the “bitch” seat and put my arms around his waist. “Don’t be popping wheelies or doing any other crazy shit, just get me there in one piece, okay?”
He started to laugh, “Just shut up and ride, baby!” he then revved the engine a couple times.
It was with the very first rev that I noticed that the bike was forcing me to sit with my legs spread and dry humping this little seat. The vibration of the bike took me off guard for a moment as a rush sort of tingled its way through me.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Uh, not really….” I tried to get out as he took off down the driveway.
“Just sit straight up and hold on to me, lean with me when I do.” And with that we were off. He turned out of the driveway and we were on the road, whether I liked it or not.
The bike roared and I won’t deny I enjoyed the tickling vibration it was giving me as we took off down the road. It was mild and soothing. I had resigned myself to the situation and decided I could just enjoy the mild massaging it was giving my inner thighs.
The residential area turned quickly into a main street. And as the bike went from 25 miles per hour to 45 miles per hour, the massaging became more aggressive, and I was enjoying it even more.
As he predicted, although the jean material was still, my skirt still rose a bit. I could feel the wind all around me and inside my skirt. The combination of the bike motor roaring and the wind feel through my underwear was a little more than different, it was down right feeling good. I tightened my grip around his waist.
We entered the entrance ramp and headed onto the highway. With each gear shift and each lowering motor sound the vibrations were…uh, getting me more excited than I wanted to at the moment.
Soon we were on the highway doing 75 and it seemed to be the magic number. I had no idea how long we were going to be on the highway, but I was willing to ride the long haul. I was starting to let the vibration, the wind, and the throbbing bumps just take over me.
This was the first time I was on a “bitch” seat, and I think I know why they call it that now. That bike was sure enough making me its bitch. I was glad the noise of the wind and the helmets covered the fact that I was starting to sweat and breathing heavily.
I was clinging on to him and trying not to cum because there was nothing there to stop anything if I did. As it was I could tell I was conditioning his seat with my wetness, but lord help me I could not stop myself.
He looked to his left and then without warning dropped the bike down a gear and passed the car in front of him.
That was it; it was all I could take. I grabbed him tightly and squeezed my eyes shut trying to stop the inevitable from happening. But I couldn’t. Not now. As my inner thighs twitched and waves of passion went down my legs, I could tell he was noticing my legs flexing around his waist, but I didn’t care.
I was there, the land of the “O”.
I just pressed myself against him and let it take me. I had no choice in the manner anyways. And as I was starting to recover, the bike was slowing down and we exited the highway.
I felt ashamed, damned good, but ashamed. I was hoping we were going to be riding a while longer to dry up some of my mess. Of course it was only minutes after leaving the highway that we arrived at our destination.
He stopped the bike and shut it off. “You have to get off first” he said, if only he knew. In fact I was quite sure he did. I got off the bike and sure enough, my underwear soaked and the top of his seat glistened in the summer sun. My face turned red inside of the helmet.
He got off and started to take off his helmet, “Was that awesome or what?!?” he smiled. He had not seen the evidence yet.
“That, uh, was indeed awesome” I said sort of shyly.
“What’s wrong? I didn’t scare you did I?” His look of concern made me even more embarrassed.
“No….no…wasn’t scared” I was pulling my skirt back down and was trying to get my helmet on top of the seat before he noticed.
“Here, I’ll take that” and he grabbed my helmet…great.
He turned to put the helmets on the helmet hooks and it was then that I think he saw it.
“Uh…Venus…I take it you enjoyed the ride?” he smiled and pointed.
My face turned red and I stammered, “I could not help it, I tried to stop it, but the engine…and the wind…and”
“Son of a bitch…” he said.
“Don’t be mad, it’s not going to hurt the seat or anything” I tried to sound mad, but really I was hoping he was not mad at me, being a new bike and everything.
“Venus, I have dreamed about making you cum for years and years. But I have to tell you, this is not exactly the way the vision went in my head…”
“What?” I asked somewhat angry, “We have been friends for years, Peter, you know I don’t date friends, and I ..”
“Yeah, yeah I know…I’m just saying…” he took his hand and rubbed off the seat.
“Well, baby, you better enjoy that hand then” I said sort of bitchy like, after all I just got off the bitch seat, “cuz that is as close as you are going to get to the real thing!”
“Better not wash this hand then” he chuckled, “unless you plan on enjoying the ride home too!”
“Kiss my ass, bastard!” I said as I slugged him in the arm.
“Apparently I only have to kiss the seat!”
I shook my head as we walked in silence toward the house where the afternoon gathering was.
“Uh, Peter…” I said as we walked up the sidewalk.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“Let’s just keep this to ourselves, please? I swear if you are going to talk about this we might as well get back on the bike and you can take me home and come back yourself!”
He just smiled, put his arm around my waist, gave me a short side hug and said, “You so owe me girl, I swear! It’s not like I am going to forget this ever happened you know…”