In the end I thought other people might enjoy reading about what really happened.Bike Ride is a story that is loosely based on a real event. The story...I wrote started one night when I was drinking in real life. I was feeling a little horny and daring from the alcohol and decided to put myself on a little adventure. I really did go for a ride with a butt plug that vibrated and inflated. I was just beginning to explore anal so even with my mind and body numbed from the liquor inserting the plug. Doing this in school was so much more exciting than at home; it’s a shame I didn’t get many similar chances. “Oh!” he exclaimed with exaggerated, playful interest. “Helpless, you say? So a stranger could maybe creep into the back of the booth and have his way with you?” “Ah!” I gasped wordlessly, my nipples hardening as I pictured Kevin doing exactly that while the kids threw sponges at me. “Uh oh. Gotta go,” he said quickly. “I’ll be there. Love ya Jean-Genie. Bye.” “Oh, um … bye,” I said,. There is no foreplay here, we just want to have sex.My hands pull down your knickers in one move. You push me off so that you can get my belt undone.Against one of the walls of the loo, there is a shelf so I turn you so that your back is to the wall, and you put your hands on my shoulders for support.I can feel the hot tip of my cock against your thigh as I move it towards you. I know when I hit the 'spot' as you let out a groan as my cock brushes your clit.I can feel how wet you are, the. She's not the owner, so strictly speakingshe's not the junkshop girl, either. Sometimes I'll go by and I'll see theowner there, a squat older woman from some Southeast Asian country, and I'llpass by, avoiding her forbidding scowl.But other times I'll be about to pass by the window of the junkshop and I'lljust know my girl is there. Maybe I've subconsciously glimpsed her in one ofthe tarnished tablespoons in the window, or maybe her dusty-spicy fragrancelingers on the doorstep I haven't even.
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