Copyright P.T. Sweet 2009
The Horny Author.
Just another short story by P.T. Sweet dedicated to the anonymous reader.
The content of this story is product of the vivid imagination of the author and is in no way true. The characters are also fictional and should not be confused with any real person or persons living or not.
This is just a little short story that took place in my earlier years. Only the names have been changed to protect me from the others involved. It all began in the Great North West, you know, where it rains six months before the weather turns bad.
Still in my twenties in the year 1979 I found myself bored shitless aboard a navel vessel bound for the Straits of Juan de Fuca. I realized I had just taken my last radar fix of my military career. My last navigation watch would be up in twenty minutes and civilian life would start in a matter of days.
My bags were packed and my good buys were said as the seven hundred foot world war two tin can was pushed up to pier 90 by a couple of tug boats. I saluted my nation’s flag as I disembarked from the Destroyer in my dress uniform. There was no fan fair just my wife waiting in the parking lot. She delivered me to Sandpoint navel station where I would be processed out over the next two weeks. With itinerary in hand I was given a few days off before ordered to report to medical and finance to be discharged.
The lady I married seven years earlier and I packed our brand new Harley Davidson Fat Bob with way to much crap and left Seattle for the open road home to Florida. We traveled the country wasting all the money we’d saved but enjoyed seeing the Grand Canyon, Yellow Stone, Mesa Verdi and a lot of other sights. Our trip home ended at the front door of her parent’s house. At least for her it did. I retrieved our belongings from storage at Pensacola navel air station, where the navy had so kindly delivered them and deposited them and my wife to her parents and left on the bike with my personals, not looking back.
September was spent on the open road and October was almost gone so I pointed the scooter towards the space coast and hopefully warm air. On the ride I met a girl named Cindy who had a front tooth knocked out in a bar fight. I fell in love at first sight she was all I thought I wanted in a woman, she would look good on the back of my bike.
She accepted the motorcycle ride I offered, starting a long love affair that lasted all of two weeks. I thought my wife was lousy in bed but the only thing Cindy had going for her was her gorgeous body and long pussy lips. They actually hung down when she was standing. I played with them for hours during our short time together it’s a good thing she had wander lust worst than I or I might be the cuckold in one of my stories.
If you’re still reading you’re about to meet Patty cakes. After losing Cindy I beat it back to northwest Florida. I found Patty in a farm house warming her ass by the fire place. We hung together for the next year and a half until she discovered her love of the ladies. She was someone else’s old lady who offered her up in trade for a day riding my Harley and I took him up on it.
While listening to the thunder of my Hawg leaving the farm Patty made some remark about a feather up my ass and her ownership of my Super Glide making us both happy. I offered the back seat in trade for some special favors and she invited me into the warmth of the blanket she was wrapped in. She was pissed that she had been traded but informed me she would honor the trade if I would get her ass away from the yen yang mafia I think she called them. She said she was tired of being swapped back and forth between Honda riding wanna be bikers.
My dick was hard and my heart was skipping beats just thinking about the pussy I shared a blanket with. Had I found a true down and dirty biker chick to share my Harley Davidson and my sexual fantasies with? These were uncharted waters and I was afraid of running aground before learning the channels to her treasures. I wanted a chick who enjoyed sex and wasn’t afraid to admit it I was tired of good girls and bar whores I’d had my fill of both.
Patty sensed my nervousness and rescued me from myself. She giggled as she slid under the blanket and unceremoniously unzipped my jeans and gave me my first ever all the way nonstop until I begged her blowjob. Patty talked and talked about her past sexual experiences until she had me hot and horny all over again and invited me to bed.
We about froze our asses off, fighting hyperthermia with naked body heat until we stopped shivering. Patty wasn’t the greatest looking chick around she was short and stocky with a tiny waist, a dimpled chin under a plan round face with short straight brown hair. Her tits were stretched marked from her two pregnancies and sagged slightly but she had amazing blemish free creamy soft skin that’s what I miss about her most… after her care free amorous attitude.
Until Patty I had only dreamed of having the kind of sex described in nasty magazines such as Penthouse or Hustler. My wife of seven years never sucked my dick and Cindy wasn’t about to do anything but flirt and lie about what she would do as she got drunk and passed out or disappeared with someone else with more to offer.
Patty cakes put it on me like no one had ever done before. I had no clue sex could be so good. She didn’t mind getting cum on her or in her or on her and in her and knew things that kept us fucking for hours in every position possible she sucked me clean and sucked me hard I lost count of how many times I came that day but when we heard the bike coming back around dark I decided to steal this chick away for myself. I wanted more of the same and anything else I hadn’t experienced yet.