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Ol' Stryker the Biker and his trusty steed Keepsake have an interesting Saturday creating memories, and not only for himself.
Stryker twisted his fist and she squalled under him. A throaty purr tickled his balls as he glanced over his shoulder and melded into traffic from the on ramp. He looked for the opportunity and Keepsake heeled over at his command, diving into the next lane before Stryker righted the attention grabbing bike and they tore past wide-eyed passengers in cages. His eyes teared in the slipstream and the smile wouldn’t quit.

A little after nine on a fuckin glorious Southern California morning. The Emerald Green monster growling between Stryker’s legs begged him to release her. Not wanting CHPs in his mirror, he restrained the snarling critter. Today was definitely a no-cops kinda day. Clear, clean-for-a-change, cloudless sky as far as he could see, a bright happy sun missing only a few brush strokes from becoming a Smiley Face, not a single dirty look from any of the sardine people in their protective cages.

More and more folks heading for the water crowded onto the highway and Stryker found himself chugging along with them. He was frustrated some. Keepsake, more. Still, great fuckin day. Roll with it. He started to check out his fellow travelers to pass the time. The convertible Miata a lane over and a few cars ahead caught Stryker’s attention. Traffic was binding up, a wreck maybe, or a breakdown. He led the purring Harley into and out of gaps until he could close on the two cuties in the Mazda.

The driver was a chestnut-haired wonder. Busty with a tan that glowed. She wiggled her fingers at him when she saw Stryker approaching in her mirror. He putted up close and kept pace as the traffic slowed even more.

“Ooooo, I want to ride with you. I can feel it already.”

The blonde dolly kept having to push her hair out of her eyes as they flirted the time away. She squirmed in her seat and grinned. Conversation with the driver was more challenging but worth it. Unfortunately, it probably was a wreck up ahead because he could hear sirens and the cars behind them were shifting in their lanes.

More fish in the sea. Stryker rolled the throttle and slid away, hunting for an exit. There were better places to sit still. The bike agreed with a throaty surge as Stryker tweaked her. Before traffic ground to a halt, the off ramp for ‘Canoga Cliffs Overlook’ came into range. He spurred the bike into the curving exit ramp. Right at the end of it was a Stop sign and the entrance into the pocket park. It was bigger than Stryker expected, and he took his time putting through it. A few families full of squealing kids and dads wearin' socks and sandals, a MILF or two, other women were readying picnics or watching their kids playing Frisbee.

What the overlook was looking over was a small cove with a bunch of parked sailboats in it. A few of them had people doing boat stuff, some more just laying out on their decks soaking up sunshine. Stryker noticed that there were even more MILFs on boats. Who knew? He guided Keepsake into a small parking area and left her ticking and cooling in the shade of some kinda tree he did not recognize to go stretch his legs. He listened to the slaps of sails, the creaks and rattles of their rigging, happy people sounds everywhere. There was a swing set that wasn’t really near the edge but as he looked closer, he thought maybe if you kicked hard enough you could lose sight of the ground. The illusion of soaring over the water drew Stryker like a magnet.

He wiggled into the fat leather seat and grabbed the chains. He had this area to himself and it suited Stryker fine. He kicked backwards and leaned into it, trying to fly. The higher he went the more into it he got. That smile was back again. He propelled the swing into the sky, almost horizontal as he imagined launching from it to cannonball into the MILF cove with a bright smile and a raucous Yeee Haaa! He saw the boats each time he pendulumed toward the water. There were a couple of folks pointing up at him. A couple of the more adventurous women waved. Stryker waved back, kicked into it even harder. He wondered if he was too fucking ancient to do a three sixty over the bar. A happy cackle came from his lips as he imagined Keepsake weighing in on that – “Hell yes, you’re too damn old. You’ll crack your fucking skull or break your back. I am NOT gonna get turned into a three-wheeler cuz you’re a fuckin’ idiot!”

Stryker almost shit himself when he felt the contact. A frisson of immediate terror swept over him. Goosebumps all over. He even felt a small trickle of piss leak out of his pecker. His first thought was ‘I just ran over a kid!’ He had really been pushing into it and Stryker was a big solid guy. He dug his heels in as soon as the swing was vertical and turned to look. The titsy brunette and her flirty blonde buddy were grinning. Busty had slapped him on the ass.

“God dammit, girl,” Stryker growled. “I thought I just killed one of these kids around here. Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?”

They both went a little round-eyed at his tone. Titsy’s face flushed. Blondie looked everywhere but at the pissed-off, rough looking biker.

“Oh, yikes.” It was a squeak. “I was just playing.” She recovered quick. “You looked like you’d be fun to play with. I guess I wasn’t thinking any further than that. I really am sorry.”

With an adorable imitation of innocence, she clasped her hands together and held them low as she made her boobs sway ‘Hello’ with a brief shimmy of her shoulders. Too early for beer yet, but the ‘titties’ part of that old quip got Stryker to pull his shades down to peer over them at the show.

“Wanna swing with me?”


He and Keepsake rode herd on the Miata in front of them as the girls took him home. They weaved their way onto surface streets and through neighborhoods until the convertible turned up a driveway. For some weird reason Stryker recognized the house as a Tudor style. Mom was a real estate lady, and he probably got it from her. He never got the joke though; all of’em Stryker had ever seen had just the one door in front.

Across the street, Methuselah was watering the peonies at the head of his walkway. The old man was watching Stryker from the time the bright green motorcycle gleamed into view. The stream of water missed the plants, puddling the sidewalk. Stryker could tell a saddle tramp from a mile away. Grandad here tweaked his antennae. He gave the old fella a friendly two-fingered wave and putted up the drive. He put the stand down, leaving his ride to cool in the shade of the garage.

The girls were gathering their stuff from the car when Stryker walked up to them. Just like before, it was Blondie - and she really did resemble Deborah Harry - that was the flirtiest of the pair. This time, Boobs-a-plenty was less pleased with that.

She growled something Stryker didn’t hear, and his playmate answered, “Yes, Lydia,” before heading toward the front door.

As Lydia was coming around the front of her car Stryker put his large mitt right between her big titties and pushed her onto the hood. The house was a long way from the highway and the slower speed limits let the car cool some, but she still squirmed under him at the mild discomfort of the heated metal against the bare skin of her shoulders and the backs of her sculpted thighs.

The blonde stopped to watch this delicious development with a tiny grin that threatened to get away from her. The old dude across the street was watering the sidewalk again as his eyes went all buggy watching his neighbor get man handled. Indecision and chivalry were all over his face but when that sexy damn Lydia lifted her legs, just as pretty as you please, he relaxed. Good day to be watering plants.

Stryker pinned the brunette against the hood and reached under the frayed hem of her faded blue jean miniskirt. His hand came away fisted into the waist band of her panties. He peeled them down her legs, piercing her with his smoky dark eyes.

“You owe me these for scarin’ the hell out of me, lady.”

Lydia’s breathless response was to lift her legs straight into the air. Stryker pocketed the seafoam-colored thong he pulled off of them and offered Lydia his hand. She held it as she walked with him toward the house. Blondie composed herself and opened the door for them, standing aside until the two entered the house.

They all clearly heard the coot’s wife bleat, “Buck! The damn weeds ain’t agonna pull themselfs! Quit yer gawkin.”

Beverly Hillbillies Strike Again! Stryker glanced at the guy, and he had a sheepish look on his face as he bent to his task, but he kept peeking across the street until the door closed behind them.


“We’ve got everything you could imagine to drink. Name your poison. Trini will serve us.”

Blondie - Trini - stood off to one side, hands clasped, head slightly bowed, watching silently.

“It’s beer-thirty some place. That works for me.”

When she returned with a tray holding his beer and a glass he wasn’t gonna use along with another tumbler full of something fruity lookin’, Trini wore only a skimpy see-through peach tinted thong. It just barely hid her twat, and it made Stryker’s mouth water. She had nice round boobs that called to mind a Seeger song., They ’...had points all their own...Way up firm and high.’ After serving Lydia she sat on her haunches beside her chair. Lydia combed the fingers of one hand through Trini’s sun-bleached hair.

“Would you like to take a shower? I’d like to watch Trini wash your back.”

“I reckon I’d like it better if she washed my front but what the hell? Where’s the bathroom?”

He killed the sweating bottle of Dos Equis and put it on the tray that she left on a table. He followed the bouncing ball, Trini’s pretty ass, down a hallway. If there was a hoop over the door, you could have a half-court basketball game in the huge bathroom. It surprised him. He watched Trini strip him out of his clothes in half a dozen different mirrors. When the silent blonde bent to untie his boots Stryker’s waking cock twitched, tapping her cheek. She turned quickly and kissed the tip of it.

Not quickly enough. The sharp sting of the crop against her flank made Trini gasp. The gratified smile was hidden, even from the mirrors, as she finished getting Stryker naked.

Lydia stood in the doorway until she was finished. Trini resumed sitting on her legs, hands clasped and resting in her lap, waiting. Lydia came into the room with them, Trini looked up at her. With the butt end of the riding crop, Lydia pried her lower lip down until her mouth opened. A low purr came from her as her patron slid it in, resting it on Trini’s glistening tongue. Lydia fastened her eyes on the girl as she pushed more of the leather-wrapped grip between pink glossed lips that closed gently around it. She didn’t stop until Trini gagged and her eyes teared. The calm blonde did not try to avoid the reprimand. Her shiny eyes focused on Lydia’s fist as her patron fucked her mouth with the tiny whip. Lydia didn’t stop that as she turned to Stryker.

“There are rules here. My pet gets forgetful. Or maybe she’s just sassy?”

She forced the handle deep enough to make her gag again before withdrawing it completely. Trini tried to keep it in her mouth, and it made a soft pop! as it was pulled from her sucking lips.

The shower was mind-blowing. Trini lathered his hair making her cute boobs come alive as she massaged his scalp. She used a soft cloth to wash his face, stepping close enough to him that her pebbled nips tickled against the skin of his hard, muscled chest. He tilted his head into the shower stream to rinse as she continued down his body. Trini was looking him dead in the eye as she filled her small hands with his hefty cock and soaped him silly. Stryker was surprised and a little embarrassed to find it enjoyable when her slim forefinger penetrated his asshole. There was a tiny smile on her face that combined apology and challenge at the same time. Lydia’s canary eating cat smile was evil. Stryker had a very masculine cock, beefy and long and every fucking inch of it was wiggling at attention. It amused her to no end that Trini had dented his armor.

Trini let him poke it into her hair as she washed his legs, his feet. She was about to stand and move him so she could wash his back, but he still held a fistful of her hair, wrapping it around his meaty cock, jacking off with it. Both girls watched him do it. Stryker took his time. Trini gazed up at him with naked adoration in her glacial blue eyes. He’d see that picture over and over for years to come.

He did let her wash his back, shivered as Trini’s pointed nails scratched faint streaks down it. She left Stryker to rinse and stepped out of the shower, drying herself, tossing the damp towel into the empty tub, then stepping back into the peach thong. Trini knelt with a fresh towel, waiting for him to finish. Lydia watched him for a moment more before leaving them.

Stryker followed Trini back out to the living room. The towel was wrapped around his waist. Lydia pointed him toward the chair where she had been sitting.

“My turn to shower. Trini will see to your needs. Trini? Don’t be wasteful, Darling.”

“Of course not, Lydia.”

When her patron had gone, Trini turned to him. “That was the most delicious thing I’ve seen in months, the way you imposed on Lydia outside.” She shivered and her even white teeth gleamed. “Every now and again, I wish I had the ability or the confidence to command. One day.” There was a dreamy look in her distant gaze. “Until then, I’ll have delightful memories of today. Thank you, Sir.”

She had Stryker stand while she removed the towel and folded it into a seat cover. Trini urged him to sit again. Scooting close, the slim blonde caressed him, holding his manly cock and gliding her warm palms up and down over its length. When she pursed her lips, he warned her.

“You won’t fucking spit on me, girlie. I’ll paddle your Blondie-looking ass.”

Trini laughed a musical trill. Instead of spitting, she allowed a silvery string of her saliva to drip from her lips onto the attractive cap at the tip of his dick. She massaged him with damper hands.

“Do you really believe that to be a threat?” She giggled sweetly.

Trini licked him from his nuts to his knob. Her warm, tiny hands went back to work. When she teased a shiny dab of precum out of it, Trini looked over her shoulder and then turned to him, lapping it off his dick and savoring the taste before swallowing. She grinned, holding one finger against her plush lips.

“Shhhh, don’t tell.” Her sneaky smile made it look like she might be hoping Stryker did just that.

Lydia found them that way, smiling at one another, comfy. Another dark green bottle glistening with condensation was clutched in his fist. He pulled a long swallow out of it as she joined him and Trini wearing only spiky heeled pumps.

The cute blonde gasped when Lydia pulled her head back by the hair and leaned over to dip her tongue between Trini’s lips. Trini’s whole body melted as she tangled her damp pink tongue with Lydia’s. Without thinking, the leggy blonde parted her thighs enough to allow her fingers to rub gently at her clit. That stopped with a warning. Lydia used the leather wrapped grip of a small riding crop to burrow between her fingers and her almost throbbing puss, separating them. The stacked dark-haired doll slid the handle up and down until Trini’s juices made it shiny. Lydia’s onyx eyes held Trini’s with a stern gaze. Trini looked down at her hands, now folded in her lap again, thighs close together.

“Mmmm, good girl. You don’t taste salty, at all.”

She smiled at them both. Lydia held Trini’s cheek against her tummy. The tip of the girl’s pink tongue toyed with her navel piercing as Stryker watched them.

No stranger to a hard dick, Stryker could get a bone feeling the buffet of the wind between his thighs as he exercised Keepsake. But he was good and amazed now. His cock was so fuckin’ hard a wildcat couldn’t scratch it. He could feel his strong heartbeat in it, and it felt full and frisky. These two were something.

“Alright, I’m impressed, Lydia. What’s the drill here? You one o’them Dom chicks? Ball crusher? Good fuckin’ luck with that, darlin.” He drained the beer and before the bottle left his lips Trini was on her way to the kitchen. She casually dragged the frosty bottle across his ball sac and up the side of his crank when she knelt again and handed it to him. Stryker’s head almost exploded.

“I like to top, that’s all. Trini allows me that, bless her horny little heart.”

Trini blew a loud raspberry against Lydia’s tummy and they both giggled like schoolgirls.

“Get over there, you.”

Lydia pointed to a spot on the thick carpeting. Trini scampered over to it on her hands and knees. Before turning all the way around, she looked over one shoulder to gauge Stryker’s reaction. She smiled because she couldn’t tell. Trini had kept him hard for a good part of the past hour. Nothing looked different now. Lydia put Trini back into her kneel and walked around the trembling cutie. She drew a long satiny belt from one of her robes through her hands, now and then draping it over Trini’s shoulder to tickle along her spine. Her hefty tits rose as her arms did when Lydia held the belt in the center and pulled the cool fabric across both of Trini’s prominent nips at the same time.

Trini closed her eyes and shivered. “Please...Oh, please, Lydia.”

Her thick chestnut hair fell over her face like a curtain as she leaned down to take one of Trini’s hands from her lap. Lydia was panting softly into her ear as she wound the belt around her wrist. She stood and walked around the kneeling girl, pulling the bound hand with her until she was behind Trini’s back. She leaned over her shoulder and Trini turned her head to lick the nipple by her cheek for a moment before Lydia drew her other hand behind her back. She fastened it, as well, leaving two long tails that she held in one hand.

Titsy looked at him and said, “Trini enjoys being the center of attention,” before pulling up on the belt or sash thingie making Debbie Harry squeak and bend forward at the waist as her arms were lifted behind her. She panted and was forced to look up at Stryker with her pleading ice blue eyes from the unnatural position. When Lydia crooked a ‘Come here’ finger at him he put the beer on the table and went to them. Stryker felt a little weird with his bobbing pecker leading the way, harder than a tween seeing his first Sears catalog underwear section.

“Sit up, Baby.”

Lydia released the reins and knelt next to Trini. She nipped Trini’s long neck between sharp, tiny teeth. When Trini’s eyes closed and she moaned, Lydia wrapped her fist around Stryker’s cock and slapped the shivering girl’s cheek with it. Her eyes opened wide at the same time as the meaty thwap sounded. Lydia shifted a little and slapped Trini’s other cheek with his cock.

“She’ll love it if you do it. I want to watch.”

Stryker watched Lydia sit back, one foot almost under her butt, other flat on the floor. She let her knee lean away and slipped a blood red nail tip through the damp and shiny folds revealed. He looked down at Trini. Her cool blue eyes were swimming as she used them to beg him for what she needed.

The wanton lust he saw on the girl’s face made his pecker pulse a small stream of jizz out of the head. Before it could get away, he glossed Trini’s lips even shinier with the slick and salty stuff.

She purred as she spread it around with the tip of her tongue. Trini squeaked when he slapped her with his cock. It was harder than Lydia did it and she could feel the very warm imprint of it on her face. Her eyes were wide, her sculpted brows lifted with the surprise. He did it again, hard enough to turn her chin. Trini was gushing. It got ohhh so much better when Lydia put her pussy dampened fingers into Trini’s mouth as Stryker continued to use his erection to torture her desire to fever pitch. He rubbed it against her cheek, onto her lips, sawing it across the width of her mouth. She opened her mouth slightly and used her frisky tongue on the thick muscle under it as he kept it up.

Lydia put her face near Trini’s and licked the top of Stryker’s dick while Trini’s tongue went crazy beneath it. She rolled one of the blonde’s stone hard nipples between one finger and her thumb. Lydia tugged it until Trini mewed her discomfort. She held it there until her pet looked into Lydia’s eyes with love and submission. She grabbed Stryker’s cock and was about to put it into Trini’s mouth when he reached for her and tangled his fist in her thick brown hair.

Now, it was Lydia who gasped. Trini sat up and watched the scene with amazement. Stryker wasn’t nice about it, he wasn’t patient, he just stuffed his throbbing cock to the root in the cocky bitch’s mouth. He chuckled once when she didn’t gag in the fuckin’ least. He ground her face against his belly before pulling her off him and pushing her onto the carpet belly down. He slid his arm under her and lifted her until her taut round ass was in front of his straining cock. He plunged into her cunt like one of those cliff diver dudes. She screamed but thrust back into him just as hard. Stryker seized her hips and grudge-fucked the hell outta the girl.

Trini watched him wreck Lydia with adoring eyes. She kept having to hide the smile behind hands clamped to her face with feigned shock as the beast ripped wails and screams from her patron. A steady keening that grew and grew until Lydia collapsed to her belly with him still impaling her sopping, spasming pussy and yelped out a convulsive orgasm. She was a trembling piece of meat, panting and crying, begging him for more of his sweet abuse.

Stryker winked at Trini. The blonde winked back with a huge smile on her face as Lydia thrashed insanely beneath him. He yanked his cock out of her strangling box and covered her back and quivering ass in long steamy strings of cum. Lydia moaned and Trini had the most frustrating time trying to untie her hands so she could massage her own seeping twat. She looked at the quivering, sobbing woman on the floor and opened her mouth for Stryker while watching the last drips and dribbles of his pearly cum fall onto her happily man-handled patron.

Lydia slowly calmed but remained on her belly, her cheek pressed against the floor with her sweaty hair clinging to her face. She watched Trini clean the man. God, men were so fucking rare in her life! She felt another sizzle, a gentler orgasm as she watched Trini worship Stryker’s fearsome dick. Her petite, Nordic pet struggled to fit as much of the biker’s cock into her mouth as she could. Lydia freed her hands to let Trini jack him off as she sucked voraciously on his wonderful, fat cock. His hands were tangled in her hair too but more gently than he had treated Lydia. Trini responded to his guidance and leaned lower to lick his dangling nut sac, opening wide to teabag him as she continued stroking his dick in front of her face. The girl caught his eye every chance she got. She wanted to know she was pleasing him.

Stryker pulled himself out of Trini’s mouth and pecked the tip of her nose with his lips. He grinned at her and pointed at Lydia with his chin. While he was putting his clothes back on, he watched the blonde wanton lap her patron clean. Cooing sweet nothings, completely absorbed in thanking her lover for still another delicious afternoon of lust and sensual mayhem. He’d have to later so saved some time and went to take a piss. Stryker washed up. Marveled at the gigantic bathroom some more before going back out. Stryker watched for a little bit, swallowed the last of the warming beer then left quietly. Neither girl, now tangled in a busy sixty-nine paid any attention to him as he closed the door, jingling Keepsake’s keys.

He sat sidesaddle, his booted feet crossed at the ankles and lit a smoke. The old biker-that-was watched him from a shady seat on the porch, taking a break to get out of the sun.

He was a happy camper. Lydia was kind of a bitch, but Lord have mercy, she was a hot bitch. He saw Trini’s thrilled amusement as Lydia screeched again in his mind’s eye and grinned big. He felt in his pocket and found the pale green thong. Stryker thumbed his bike to life and coasted down the sloping drive. He paused at the bottom to look for idiots then let out the clutch and rolled across the street, flipping the cigarette against the curb. He held Keepsake upright, his feet planted on either side of the grumbling demon. She tickled his nuts some more as they idled. The two bikers watched one another, neither making a stab at conversation. Stryker was amused. It became sort of a pecker measuring contest, neither willing to make the first move. That lasted until the Missus looked from behind a pulled-back curtain inside the house. She didn’t know what was going on, decided to back up her old man if it came to that. The saddle tramp looked pretty rough. Sadie came almost all the way out onto the porch, the screen door a makeshift shield between them. Buck looked over at his wife, surprised a little. ‘Damn if she ain’t spunky still,’ he thought but before the harpy could start shrieking at the dude with the pants-wetting green Harley he figured he ought to defuse things.

“That right there is one pretty machine, Sadie. Ain’t that right?”

“Our putt was prettier, Buck but yeah, hell yeah, it’s plumb purty. I’d spread my legs over the back of it if you’d just go ahead an’ have that damn heart attack yer always threatenin’ me with.”

The ancient biker stood from his chair and stretched his back. Stryker was a little surprised that the Hooterville Hollow voice he had heard squalling at the old guy earlier belonged to a kinda not bad real old girl. She wore cutoffs and while he had imagined fish-belly white legs laced with fat blue veins, the Missus had a fair pair o’suntanned pins on her. Her t-shirt, ‘Ladies Love Hogs’ splashed over a Harley logo on it, was filled up pretty damn good.

Stryker waited for the dude to cross the yard. His wife looked at the bike, looked at her old man and grinned. The damn crab was moving quicker than he did when she whispered the word ‘blowjob’ at him.

“Damn, son. I am a jealous man. This fucker’s beautiful. Ain’t ya heard paintin’ your putt green is bad luck?”

Stryker grinned and told the fella, “If the headstrong beast ever dumps my ass, I’ll be remembering your words, old timer.” They shot the breeze some more, Stryker got the old man to talk about his putting days, the bike he used to have, what not bein’ able to ride was like. Stryker could not imagine that. One of the very worst nightmares as far as he was concerned. Buck, as he introduced himself, filled him in. He was not bent a bit about discussing not having a Hog between his legs anymore.

“Took a helluva long time son. An’ no shit, I miss it somethin’ terrible, but too old is too old, that’s all. I figgered I was gonna hurt someone else ‘sides me, so I got her to a good family. I’ll tell ya though, you and this beast woke something in me for a little bit and for that I thank ya, boy. Good memories.”

He held out his hand and the old guy shook with him. He got a startled look on his life-creased face when he felt the balled-up fabric. His dentures almost fell out when the biggest smile he had had in decades creased his face. Unless he was mistaken, the panties this dude had pulled off of sexy Lydia across the street were in his paw.

Stryker grinned back. “Don’t let the ol’ lady find those, Bro. Think of’em as a keepsake.”

He let out the clutch and dialed in a fistful of fun. Keepsake leaped into the rest of a fuckin’ glorious Southern California day.
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