Fresh Escort Used by Biker

Clare's sexual journey continues. She is a small-town, beautiful, shy, 18-year-old music student, studying the cello at New York's Juilliard School of Music. She recently became an escort, stage name, Celeste, to finance her expensive studies. In previous episodes she lost her virginity to a wealthy client, experienced a new-age orgy, had sex with a butchy dike, been examined by "doctors," flirted with a teacher and became a boy-toy at a bachelor party. Today, Clare has a scary adventure with a motorcycle gang member.

Thanks to LarryFromSeattle for editing it.

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Fran, the owner of Midnight Magic Escorts had called her yesterday and booked a date for her with a middle-aged man who she said was a good client of the agency. He had requested a sleep-over to noon of the following day. Clare was told this would pay her $2,000 after the agency fee. That would put her closer to the money she needed for an expensive concert-quality cello that she needed to go to the next level in her music career. The date was for her to go to his clubhouse and afterwards, whatever pleasures he desired. Clare's father was an avid golfer so she naturally assumed the 'clubhouse' was at a golf course.

Getting ready for her sleep-over date with the mystery man.

Clare steps nude into her new clubbing dress and squirms as she pulls the tight fabric up over her slim hips. She then grasps the built-in bra cups and pulls the dress higher so they cover her pert 34 B globes. She looks at her reflection in the full length mirror in the bedroom of her new apartment. The dress is deep purple and very classy. It is shoulderless so her long, curly brunette hair falls nicely over her bare shoulders. Clare brushes her hair back and can see that the bra cups push her breasts up so they are showing a classy but sexy amount of their perfect tops and just the right amount of cleavage. The dress has a tight bodice and hip hugging tight skirt that ends about four inches above her knees. She turns and looks over her shoulder to check the back. The dress has a low cut back that has her bare almost to her tight bum. It is similar to the dresses the other Midnight Magic escorts wear, that is why she bought it, but Clare thinks it has a more refined quality about it.

Overall, this is the perfect dress for a classy party with rich people at a golf course clubhouse. She can picture herself on the arm of some handsome gentleman. Back in New Hampshire, she had a crush on one of her father's business associates. She can visualize his handsome face with his eyes eating her up in this dress. She reaches under the hem of the skirt and up to her smooth-shaven girlie parts to stroke herself as she envisions his hands all over her.

Since losing her virginity and experiencing great sex, she has been having many spells of lusty thoughts throughout the days. She uses her vibrator every night to help quell the heat in her pussy but a strong-willed man fucking her with a stiff cock is what she really craves.

She steps into a dainty pink, Brazilian style pair of lacy panties. She has found that men really get turned on by sexy lingerie. This type is not quite as brazen as a tiny thong but much naughtier than a full panty; perfect for the man she envisions will be making love to her later tonight.

Next is a pair of low-heeled, deep red leather shoes. She has not mastered high heels but she is practicing by wearing a pair around the apartment. For tonight, this low-heeled pair is a more sensible choice. The red color also matches the small red handbag that holds her pink lipstick, apartment keys and tissues.

The client will like me she thinks. She hopes so. All the men she has been with through the agency have treated her well. If she does a good job with the agencies best clients, Fran will hopefully give her preference over the other girls.

This is mid-summer in New York and the air is hot even at night. Clare goes down the elevator to the noisy street and hails a cab that takes her to the meeting spot on the corner of Broadway and East 12th Street.

As she waits at the corner, many men look at her dressed up so beautifully for an evening on the town. They are envious of the man who will be with her and bed her. Little do they realize that with the agency's telephone number and the right amount of cash, they also can relish the delights of her young tight body

She waits for a man named Jack who she has been told is middle-aged with a red beard. When she heard about the beard, she was taken back a bit. She's never been with a man that had a beard but the more she thinks about it, the more it seems very manly. As she waits, she's getting more horny by the minute and at the same time mixed in were fears of the unknown that give her an adrenaline thrill.

Clare's Date - Her Viewpoint

It's getting dark when a gleaming, noisy, large motorcycle pulls up to the curb beside her. On it is a muscular man about forty, with black leather clothing, a bandana covering the long red hair on his head and a salty-red long beard. His face is like Mickey Rourke's, long after 'Body Heat' but not yet to 'The Wrestler' stage. In other words, handsome in a rugged, experienced way. The black leather jacket is sleeveless and unzipped down the front. His strong arms are covered with tattoos as is his muscular chest. He pushes a helmet towards Clare and says firmly, "Celeste, I'm Jack. Get on the bike." It was more of a demand than a request.

My God, this is not what I expected. In fact, this is exactly the OPPOSITE of what I expected. What do I do? This man seems a bit dangerous but Fran said he was a good client. There is a lot of money involved. I did make a commitment. If I get on that motorcycle, who knows what might happen?

He shakes the helmet and says gruffly, "Babe, I ain't going to bite you. Get on the chopper and let's ride."

I know if I get on that thing, there is no turning back. Oh, what the hell. I take the helmet and buckle it under my chin and lift my skirt enough to swing my leg over the seat behind him. On the back of his jacket is THE BREED MC in large letters. I have never heard that name but I'm relieved it is not Hell's Angels or one of those nasty groups. I shimmy my bum on the suede seat to pull my dress down to be decent in public.

There is a chrome metal bar on either side of the seat and I hold them and my hand bag tight as the engine roars and we leap forward so abruptly that I am almost thrown off the back of the bike. I throw myself forward in a panic and reach my arms around his waist holding on for dear life as we speed onward. The smell of his jacket is leather mixed with motor oil and marijuana. His muscular waist is rock hard. I can feel the motor throbbing through the seat and it is arousing my sensitive womanly areas. We speed between traffic and take turns at crazy angles with adrenaline speed. This is the most exciting ride of my life. Wow, I can see why people love motorcycles.

I look down and see that my skirt is riding higher up my thighs. I should pull it down but every time I think I can free a hand to do it, we make a turn that has me holding the man in front of me for support. I can see men in cars ogling me with knowing smirks on their faces as we pass them. They see me, a teen dressed in a sexy party dress holding onto a tough biker. They must think I am a total slut. Is that what I am becoming? Oh well, unlike my small home town in New Hampshire, everyone is anonymous in New York. If I did this there, I would be instantly labeled a floozy for life. Here, nobody knows me and I can go back to the innocent life after I leave New York. Who has to know my teen adventures?

Oh lordy, he is stroking the outside my right thigh with his calloused hand. I guess he has paid for that and more plus it feels pretty good, too. I lean my head on his back in acceptance and he gives my knee a squeeze to signal he gets the message.

Suddenly we are in the Holland Tunnel and the roar of the engine is deafening as we go under the Hudson River. I wonder where his clubhouse is.

We are soon on a darkened highway heading away from the bright lights of the city. As we race along the pavement, he reaches back and moves his hand up the inside of my leg to my crotch. I lean back to look down at the erotic image of his hand stroking my panty covered pussy. MMMMMMM. That feels very nice. He has a very nice touch. Soon he hooks his index finger under the fabric and runs his knuckle along my cunny lips and even nudging my swollen clitoris. I don't care if the drivers around us are seeing this. They'll never know who I am anyway. He gently teases my girlie parts for the better part of an hour as we travel away from the city. My mind is going crazy with lust. We must be going a hundred miles an hour. The warm wind is a hurricane rushing by us but I am in an eddy nestled behind the silent man. I find comfort in sucking on a small metal stud in the leather just below the 'B' in Breed on his jacket. It has a metallic musty taste that strangely calms me.

We are now far away from the city on a quiet, two-lane road in the country with only street lights at crossroads and the few farm houses. He takes my hand and moves it to the front of his pants. I can feel a large, hard bulge. I stroke it as best I can but decide it would be better for him if I can release it. I feel for the top of his zipper and finding it, I pull it down as far as it will go. He is not wearing any underwear and his large erection is released suddenly and points up to the star-filled night sky above us. It's a wonderful thick long instrument that is warm to the touch. As I caress it, my pussy feels a gush of wetness and I squirm in my seat as my cunny starts to throb. I wonder how far it is to the clubhouse. If I asked, would he go to his house first so we can play?

Suddenly he pulls to the dirt shoulder under a light near a house set back from the road in a grove of trees. This area has only a few houses and very few cars are on the road. We are in the middle of nowhere Is this the clubhouse? Are we there?

He dismounts, turns and lifts me off the seat like I weigh nothing. We are standing, facing each other on the side of the motorcycle away from the road. I take off my helmet. He has his back to the bike which is still growling in a slow idle. I can see his erection pointing straight at me. He puts his hands on my bare shoulders and gently applies pressure to signal for me to squat down before him.

"Suck my cock, doll." This man is no Shakespeare but I know what to do..

I squat low so his weapon is at the same level as my mouth. I lick my lips and I make an O of them and take the head of his circumcised penis in my mouth just like I had been taught by Fran and Jerome at the agency. I can hear the man make a deep animal sound above me as I bob my head with my tongue running along the sensitive underside of his manhood. I have been taught that this gives maximum erotic friction. I look up and see he is staring deeply into my eyes. He holds my head with both hands and slows me down and gently moves my head so his meat slowly enters and pulls back out again. I close my eyes and concentrate on the feel and salty taste of him. A car with bright headlights passes but he doesn't miss a beat. I sneak a hand down to my crotch and stroke the slit of my pussy through the lace material of my panties. There is a growing wet spot there. I hope we are close to his place. He leans down and slips his rough hand down the front of my dress to cup my breast and squeeze my nipple a bit painfully. It feels delicious. His other hand is on the back of my head still keeping a slow tempo of his erection sliding in and out of my mouth.

Soon, he leans down and puts his hands under my armpits, lifts me up, turns me around and bends me over with my face on the leather seat and my forearms on the motorcycle for support. I can feel the heat from the engine throbbing below me. He jerks my dress up over my bottom and pushes my panties down my thighs just above my knees in one swift motion. Oh my lord! He is going to do me right here on a public road! I can hear the clinking of metal behind me which must be him unbuckling his leather pants and pushing them down. There is nothing I can do to stop it and really there isn't anything I want to stop. My pussy is on fire. I hear him spit loudly into his hand. He is likely getting the head of his penis wet. Please hurry. I need that thing inside me. He cups one of my ass cheeks in each hand and spreads them to uncover his target.

It seems like an eternity before I feel the wet head of his penis nuzzle expertly at the entrance to my vagina. Then he thrusts his whole length deep into me. I can't help but scream in pure lust due to a cascade of erotic sensations. "Yes, Yes, Yes." He pounds into me with total abandon. The ride must have turned him on as much as me.

An enormous orgasm is building that almost feels dangerous as it rises. His playing with my pussy for so long has me galloping to fulfillment in record time. I can feel his balls bouncing against my clit at each inward thrust. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle my passion when I cum but it is impossible. I scream into the night, "Ahhhh. Oh my God, I'm cumming. AHHHHHHH. Oh yes, yes, YES." I hear his loud animal grunting noises behind me and feel his semen coat the inside of my vagina and spill down the inside of my thigh. His cock inside me feels so delicious. I don't want him to pull out. He grinds my pussy until every drop of his seed is released.

As I recover my senses, in the light of the streetlamp I can see that I have left a smear of my pink lipstick on the suede seat of the motorcycle where my face was planted. At first I worry that I have done something wrong but then I see that there are many streaks of various lipstick colors in the same area. This must be like his trophy collection. Then I hear a dog barking in the yard beside us and a door opening. There are voices. I am panting and spent as we stand there still locked together doggy-style. The smell of hay and farm animals is strong in the air. He withdraws and zips.

I stand upright and open my handbag to get a tissue and clean as much of his spunk as I can. I start to pull up my panties. He sees this and growls, "Lose the panties babe. You won't be needing them." This is simply an order and I step out of them without thinking. I go to put them in my handbag but he says, "Toss them."

All of a sudden I realize that he wants me to go to his clubhouse where there is likely going to be his friends and he wants my private parts to be totally naked under my dress. Heaven only knows what will happen there. I bite my lip and hesitate. I get a sudden urge to run over to the house where people are now shouting over to us, asking if everything is okay. My head is saying bolt but my body is saying go forward with this masculine man and his powerful machine towards more pleasures. My body and the primitive areas of my brain win. I throw the panties onto the roadside grass and we mount the motorcycle and continue on to our final destination, the clubhouse.

To be continued.