"A truck, huh?" Maddie said as it became obvious where we were going. I enjoyed the hell out of watching her hair bounce and chest move as she tried to match stride with me while wearing biker boots which matched the base maroon leathers with twin yellow stripes running along the arms and legs.
"Yup, a big ole lifted, goes-where-I-want truck," I answered as I beeped the truck unlocked. "A bike, huh?"
"I like the sensation of speed."
I opened her door and offered my hand.
Or something vibrating between your legs.
"Oh, a gentleman!" she cooed, stepping up and in.
"Not exactly a gentleman." I shut the door and crossed to the driver side. Settling in, I gave her a crooked smile. "I just wanted to check out your butt in that snug leather."
She gasped and slapped my shoulder. "You're so bad!" She clicked her seat belt in place and I admired the way the belt nestled between her boobs.
"I thought you already knew that?" I started it up. "Do you need a refresher course?"
I could swear I saw a gleam in her eyes there in the shadows made from the street lights. "I really think I do," she softly said, gripping my thigh.
I leaned over and kissed her quickly, breaking away just as she started to kiss back. "Awww," she complained.
"I didn't peg you for a biker chick," I remarked, staring up and letting the engine warm. "Oh, wait, you do meet one requirement."
"Besides having the bike?" she asked.
"While all biker chicks must ride a bike, not all biker chicks must own a bike," I pointed out.
"I check both those boxes," she said, rubbing my thigh. "What's the one you're thinking of?"
"Biker chicks gotta have big titties,"
She pushed her chest out, causing the belt to dig into the valley and accentuate both peaks. "Triple check!" she announced. We both laughed and her hand slid up until her little finger rubbed my right nut. I felt it squirm and my cock plumped up. She definitely needed a refresher course.
First things first,
I thought. "Which way are we going?" I asked, putting it into drive and easing toward the parking lot exit.
She asked a few questions just to get my priorities and then gave me the go-here-turn-there-at-the-light-do this play by play. Out of habit, at every stop sign or traffic light, I looked behind us.
She laughed after the third time. "Are we being followed?"
"You would be if the guys around here had any sense," I answered. "No, it's just something I do."
Since I didn't want to leave the base, she took me to a little combo diner and shopette. We took a booth and She wanted to sit beside me until I pointed out I couldn't admire her if she wasn't across the table.
"But there are other advantages," she cooed and leaned into me, pushing her breast into my arm, and cupping my balls. I was convinced.
I ordered meatloaf, smashed potatoes with gravy, and corn bread. She went with a turkey club sandwich. As we munched, I filled her in about meeting her housemate and then the confusing little episode with Master Sergeant Wentworth. She nodded as I spoke, and I could tell she had something on her mind but wasn't ready to let it out.
"Don't like fries?" I asked, indicating the veggies she had ordered as her side instead of the standard. "They aren't good for my figure," she explained.
"I love your figure, it's great," I said seriously. "Stand up."
"What?" as she was about to take another bite of her sandwich.
"Stand up. Right there," I pointed past her. She hesitated, looking at me. "Come on," I insisted. "do it for me."
She put her meal down, said "Okay, for you," squeezed my dick for emphasis, then slid out of the booth to stand.
I blatantly looked her over. Her cheeks pinked a bit as I obviously checked her out from her tousled dark hair in its loose waves, to her wide eyes, high cheek bones set in a round face with full lips that kissed so well, down her neck, over the rise of her bosom down her waist, over her hips and between her legs, then all the way down to her feet.
"I fucking
love
your shape," I sighed. She smiled, face glowing as she regained her seat. I leaned toward her. I lowered my voice and almost growled at her. "I love your pretty face, I love your mouth, I love what you do to me with it, I love your tits, I love how they fill my hands, I love how they move when I ram into you, I love how hard your nipples get," she wasn't breathing, just staring at me, listening, "I love how my hands fit over your hips, I love the way you fit around me, I love how your move when I'm inside you, I love how your juicy pussy bathes my balls when you fuck me back, I love how your ass looks when I'm behind you ramming you, and I love how you use your legs to pull me in deeper into you. I fucking love every bit of you."
She licked her lips and drew a shaky breath.
She slipped back into the booth. "Can we go back to your room now?" She sent one hand to stroke me.
"No," I said, scooping a fork of potatoes into my mouth, doing my best to act unaffected even if the direction of my blood flow made me a liar.
"NO!?" she almost shouted, her hand freezing. The woman at the counter looked over, eyebrows raised.
"Well, not 'no'," I amended. "Just not right now." She frowned and her lower lip pushed out. God, I wanted to bite it. "Don't worry, my hot little Staff Sergeant, we
will
return but first --"
"What?" It was her turn to growl. "But first what?" Her grip lost its tenderness.
"Are you wet?" I shot back.
She gave me the cutest little frown of consternation, glanced around, then nodded. "As much as you are hard." Again, I was enthralled with the way her hair moved.
"Good," I said, popping the last chunk of protein into my gullet. "I like the idea that I make your pussy wet."
"Goddammit," she growled again, "you are so fuckin' mean!" Her hand left me.
"Back in the room," I knocked back the last of my coffee. "Was I nice?"
"Nice? No, you weren't nice, but--"
I leaned closer to her. "Did you cum?"
"What?"
"Back in my room. Did you cum?"