The widow has a daughter: part 1; The seal of approval goes two ways. By bart23233. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. For me, turning 40 was a real issue. My friends were throwing me a big four-oh party and it kind of got out of hand there were a lot of people there. Many of whom I didn’t even know. Let’s just say that we passed small and intimate way back in the dust. As I moved through the crowd, a woman who appeared to be about 45 caught my eye. She was one of the many people I didn’t know. She was in shape and had a great body. I decided that at 40, I was allowed to chat up women who were 45. I move over to her and introduced myself. She told me she was Linda. As it turned out, she was friends with a couple I knew and they’d invited her to the party. I asked if she brought her husband, and she replied that she was a widow having lost her husband a year ago. I expressed my sympathies. She said that it wasn’t needed as she’d made it past the first three months and worked her head through it. He was gone and she had to move on. “So, what’s the hardest part now,” I asked. She leaned in and said, “No sex. I really miss that part.” “A good-looking woman such as yourself should have no problem solving that,” I said. “It’s harder than you think. After all, you haven’t offered now have you,” she asked with a provocative smile on her face. “Never let it be said that I have no manners. You have my offer to help in that area at any time,” I said. The room was crowded and everyone was on top of each other. Someone passed by carrying a couple of drinks and offering up a “pardon me”. In the bustle of the room, I felt her hand rubbing the crotch of my pants. It wasn’t an accidental bump against me, she was groping for treasure. “Just checking to see if it were a valid offer,” she said. “Seems it was very real.” By this time, she had a firm grip on my ball sack and my cock was swelling to full size. It was kind of fun. This had never happened before, even at drunken frat parties at college. Even college girls had been more discrete. By this point, she’d released my balls and was gently rubbing my cock through my pants. She rubbed it from end-to-end, slowly. “Okay, you have my attention and a bit of pre-cum,” I said in a whisper at her ear. She smiled. “I want more than that,” she whispered back. The room had pretty much cleared. She stood in a corner, me facing her. Releasing my cock, she unzipped my pants and reached in grabbing my cock. She gave it a good tug and then fondling the head, said, “Yes, I see we do have a pre-cum situation.” With that, she released my cock, zipped my pants and slowly licked her fingers which carried my pre-cum. “May I call you,” she asked. “You can call me for anything at any time,” I replied. With that she glided away and starting chatting with other guests. It was just as if nothing had happened. I was really hoping that she called. Then I remembered that we’d not exchanged numbers. Not-to-worry, I could always get her number from our mutual friends. Sitting at my desk the following Tuesday, the phone rang. I picked it up and a woman said, “I’m in the market for some pre-cum. Would you be able to help me with that,” she asked? “Yes, Linda. I can absolutely help you with that. I’m in a meeting with my boss right now, may I return you call,” I asked. “What’s your number?” I jotted down the number and promised to call her back shortly. I rushed the remainder of he meeting with my boss. As he left my office, I picked up the phone and called Linda. She picked up. “Hello, Linda. What can I do to help you,” I asked? I was sure she could hear the smirk in my voice. “Perhaps I could offer you dinner tonight.” “No dinner. I told you I was horny not hungry. Do you have any offers that don’t involve food?” “Perhaps I could come to your place and we could start with my pre-cum and take it all the way to post cum,” I said. “Take down my address. Let’s say seven,” she said. She proceeded to give me her address whi

Hal’s Woman with “Dick-Sucking-Lips”Dirk has a stimulating encounter with a friend’s wife. By Original Aramis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Dirk was halfway through another of his wandering road trips, this time to see an old biker buddy of his who had moved two states away when he was transferred by his company. Dirk had known Hal Jenkins since high school; he was one of the few people that Dirk got along with, and they had been friends ever since. When Hal got into motorcycles Dirk had approached him about joining the MC, but Hal said he just wasn’t into it so he didn’t. That didn’t matter to Dirk as Hal was a true biker in every sense of the word, and the two of them had gone through some pretty interesting times and some pretty interesting women before Hal was transferred. When Hal called Dirk about six months ago to invite him to his wedding, you could have knocked Dirk over with a feather. Hal was the last person besides himself that Dirk would have ever thought would get married, but Hal told Dirk that his fiancé, Renee, was ‘the woman of my dreams in every possible way’ and that he wanted to marry her 'before she wises up!’ Dirk was unable to make the wedding since it was scheduled for the following week – Hal never was one for planning things out which is one reason Dirk never thought he would ever get married – but they had planned instead on Dirk riding out to see him and staying for a few days.  The earliest Hal’s schedule at work would let that happen was six months away, but the time had finally passed and now Dirk was sitting in Hal’s man cave (his garage) with their bikes parked in the driveway, cooling off after a long day’s ride. It was the afternoon of the last day of Dirk’s two-day visit, and they had made the best of it. They were sitting in a couple of foldable camp chairs enjoying a couple of cold bottles of beer with Dirk still wearing his colors, talking about anything and everything, just enjoying life and each other’s company. “So whattaya think about my ol’ lady, Dirk?” Hal asked, grinning at him over his beer bottle. “She’s really something, ain’t she?” “Yes, she most certainly is!” Dirk replied, nodding as he spoke. When he had met Renee upon his arrival, to say he was stunned would have been the understatement of the year. The best way to describe Renee was to say that she was what everyone thought about when they thought of the term 'biker chick.’ Renee was about five feet five inches tall and around 115 pounds, Dirk would have guessed, with just enough meat on her bones to make her look really good. Dirk also would have guessed that at least eight pounds of that would have been breast meat, because Renee had a simply magnificent pair of tits. Full and round with just the right amount of sag to make them wobble inside the white halter top she was wearing when he first saw her, they were truly a sight to behold. The halter top was showing about a mile of cleavage, something which Dirk appreciated very much, and was a perfect match for the low-slung faded jeans she was wearing. The jeans were skintight until they reached her knees and then flared out just enough to give her a retro '60s hippie kind of look. Her waist was tapered and her stomach was flat, and while not as firm as a young girl’s it was still firm enough to be very enticing. The faux diamond that hung from her navel only added to the look. And to top it all off, Renee had the blackest hair Dirk had ever seen, wavy and long, going down past her shoulders nearly to the middle of her back. Her hair was very thick as well, so Dirk imagined that she had either some Italian or Middle Eastern blood in her veins. The only thing missing from Renee having a complete 'biker chick’ look was a tattoo or two, and when she turned to walk away from him Dirk saw not only a rounded, firm ass that swayed enticingly as she walked but a butterfly 'tramp stamp’ peeking out from above the waistband her jeans as well. But the thing that drew Di

Adventures of Dirk: An Oceanside Bikers Gathering part 1Dirk finds his favorite place on earth, and a House Mouse to ride him. By Original Aramis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The day was bright and clear without a cloud in the sky, the weather was warm without being hot, and there was little if any wind. Traffic was minimal at best, and this enabled Dirk to relax as he rode his Harley down the highway at 70MPH, a black duffel bag full of his clothing and gear strapped across the rear seat. Riding his bike in conditions like this was one of the things that Dirk loved most in the world, and like most bikers this was a kind of therapy for him that couldn’t be found anywhere else. Whenever life’s concerns and distractions got to be too much for him, Dirk would fire up the bike and hit the road, not going anywhere in particular but just going until either the bike needed gas or he needed food, or both. But today was different. Dirk was travelling with a destination in mind, specifically the clubhouse of one of his MC’s charters that was in the neighboring state. They were celebrating their 10th anniversary and had planned a monster party, one that Dirk wouldn’t have missed for the world. The charter was also located in his favorite beach resort town where his favorite beach resort hotel, “The Windjammer,” was located, so there was no way he wasn’t going to make this party. He had already made his reservation at the hotel, although he knew he’d most likely end up spending the majority of the night at the clubhouse enjoying the party and the hospitality of the club. He’d had several invites from club members to stay at their house, but Dirk politely declined them all. As much as he loved the members of his club he always felt a little out of place when he stayed overnight with one of them, and preferred the privacy of his own hotel suite instead. Besides, if he got lucky with one of the many girls he knew were going to be at the party, he wanted a place to go where he could be assured of privacy and comfort. It was late in the afternoon when Dirk pulled into the parking lot of “The Windjammer,” having been on the road for a little more than eight hours. He was achy and tired from the ride, needing both a shower and a drink in the worst way. He pulled his bike up under the awning of the main entrance to the hotel and dropped the kickstand, his loud pipes turning every head within ear shot. He drew a few disgusted looks from some of the snootier patrons when they saw his colors and his long hair, but he truly didn’t give a shit. He was worth more than most of them on his worst day, so he really couldn’t care less about their opinion. He shut down the engine and got off, stretching for a moment before going into the hotel and checking in. He came back out with a card key for his room less than three minutes later, then got back onto his bike to move it into the parking lot. Once there he shut the bike down, locked the ignition and the forks, unstrapped the duffel bag and headed up to his room. The room was located on the 22nd floor of the hotel and had a magnificent view of the ocean. As soon as Dirk got into the room he dropped his bag on the bed and went out onto the balcony, standing there and looking out at the ocean. He smiled as he smelled the salt air and felt the ocean breeze on his face, then closed his eyes and just listened to the sound of the waves and the water for several long moments. Then he opened his eyes and looked up and down the beach, still smiling. “This is my favorite place in the whole world!” he said out loud to himself, his smile getting bigger. It was late in the day on Saturday so the beach was packed with tourists, but this didn’t bother him. He wasn’t there to go out on the beach this trip, he was there to party and have a good time, so the crowd of people on the beach wasn’t important. He stood there for a few moments longer, then turned and went back into the room to shower and change. He t

Adventures of Dirk: The Celebrity Damsel In Distress Dirk encounters a stranded motorist who looks very familiar. By Original Aramis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It was a simply beautiful day, just perfect for riding; bright sunlight, clear sky, not too hot, no wind to speak of, absolutely perfect. Dirk had been on the road riding with his club since early morning, and now it was very late in the afternoon, and he was headed home.  He had spent the last two hours at the clubhouse with his brothers, having a few cold ones after a long and enjoyable day on the road, and now he was heading for his house with the sun setting behind him. The brotherhood of his club and the pleasure of riding the roads with them was the reason he joined the club in the first place, and he was already looking forward to the next ride with them. He was riding down a back road that was far enough off the main track that it wasn’t used all that often, and it was one of his favorite roads to ride for just that reason. People driving cars, or “cagers” as they were known in the biker world, were the single biggest threat to anyone on a motorcycle, and Dirk avoided heavily traveled roads whenever he could. He was just rounding a bend in the road when he saw a car pulled off to the side of the road with what appeared to be a woman standing next to it, looking down at the right front tire which was flat. He slowed his bike and then pulled off the road, parking behind the car, a fairly new black Mustang convertible. The woman, a tall blonde wearing a gold sleeveless blouse, black slacks and flats, looked at him with apprehension as he got off the bike and walked over to her. No doubt she was sizing him up, just as he was doing the same to her. She was a stunner, to be sure, and from what Dirk could see beneath the form-fitting top and slacks she was wearing she had a body to die for. Dirk guessed that she was about 50 years old or so, but she certainly didn’t look it either in her face or her body. Dirk was a boob man, always had been and always would be, and the woman standing next to the car certainly filled the bill. While not huge her boobs were big, bigger than average, which pleased Dirk to no end. And from what he could see beneath the fairly tight top and snug slacks she was wearing this woman was a very fit and trim 50. He could tell she was apprehensive because he had ridden up on a Harley and was wearing the colors of an MC; Dirk had encountered this before and knew how to handle it. His boots crunched in the gravel as he walked up to the car, stopping at the trunk to keep some space between them until she was sure he wasn’t going to attack her. She turned to face him as he stopped. “You need some help, ma'am?” he asked, putting his hand on the trunk of the car. Dirk could see some of the apprehension leave her face when he used the word ‘ma'am,’ which was exactly his intention. “Yes, I do!” she said, giving him a nervous smile. “As you can see I’ve got a flat, and I have no idea of how to change a tire!” “Do you have road hazard on your car insurance?” he asked. “If you have that you can call for a tow truck, and the driver will change your tire for you at no charge,” he said. “Yes, I do, but they always take so goddamn long to get here!” she said, her smile broadening just a bit as she became more comfortable with him. “And I really don’t feel like standing out here on the side of the road way out in Bumfuck Egypt while I’m waiting for the tow truck to get here!” She put her hand to her mouth and paused for a moment before continuing. “I’m sorry, I always curse whenever I get nervous or upset, and right now I’m a little bit of both.” “No need to be nervous, ma'am, all bikers aren’t like what you see on TV,” he said, trying to reassure you. “Most of us aren’t, actually, so don’t let the colors fool you. Now would you like me to change your tire for you?” he asked, and her face immediately brightened. “You’d do that for me? For some st

Adventures of Dirk: The Cuckhold’s Wife Dirk has an encounter with his neighbor’s wife. By Original Aramis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Dirk was standing in his garage next to his bike, a cold bottle of beer in his hand, taking a break from working on it. He was looking out of the open door of his garage and across the street, watching his new neighbors as they were talking in their driveway, standing next to their two cars.  They’d moved in about a month ago and Dirk hadn’t had the chance to talk to either one of them, but he had a feeling from what he’d seen so far that he wasn’t going to like the guy very much. And he wasn’t so sure about the woman, either. “This guy’s pussy-whipped if I’ve ever seen it!” Dirk said out loud to himself as he watched the woman clearly giving directions to her husband. She was very animated, and both the expression on her face and the gestures of her arms and hands told Dirk everything he needed to know about her – or so he thought. She was obviously the one wearing the pants in the family, and Dirk didn’t know whether to dislike the husband or pity him. Either way, Dirk was just glad he wasn’t him despite what the wife looked like. The woman was a stunner, a real sexpot, no doubt about it. Blond hair, a pretty face, tall and slender, long legs that went all the way up to a fantastically rounded and firm ass, and a set of simply killer big tits that stood out proudly from her chest like a pair of twin torpedoes. She was wearing a yellow halter top and a pair of skin-tight white chino pants that sat low on her hips and showed just about everything. Dirk was impressed by her flat, firm stomach, and was that a diamond piercing he saw glinting from her navel? Dirk wondered how many hours in the gym it took to get and keep a body like that, and the thought of her in a skin-tight workout outfit made him smile. A pair of black spiked heels that must have been about 4 inches tall completed her outfit. The husband was “Joe Average,” about six feet tall, maybe 180 pounds soaking wet, with brunette hair kept fairly short, a “regular” build (if there was such a thing), and black plastic framed glasses. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about him at all, and Dirk couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed to land a woman such as the one he was looking at. Dirk took another pull from his beer as he watched the conversation unfold, admiring the way her big tits moved inside her halter top. “God, I’d love to see those things naked!” he said out loud, smiling to himself. The conversation ended with the woman giving the man a peck on the cheek, after which he got into his car and drove away. The woman waved at her husband as he drove off, then looked up and saw Dirk standing in the shadows of his garage. She smiled and waved at him, and Dirk lifted the beer up in return. Then she turned and went into the house, and Dirk went back to working on his bike. It was only about ten minutes later when he heard a female voice from the open garage doorway behind him. “Nice bike!” the voice said, and Dirk turned around to see who it was, still squatting down next to his bike. He was surprised to see the woman from across the street standing there smiling at him. “What is it?” she asked, crossing her arms beneath her mammoth tits, cocking her hips as she put one foot out to the side. Dirk stood up and faced her, pulling a shop rag out of his back pocket and wiping his hands with it as he replied. “It’s a Harley, 2003 Heritage Softail Classic,” he replied, his guard up. “The 100th Anniversary Edition, actually, best bike I’ve ever owned.” “That explains why you’ve had it for 17 years, I guess,” she said, smiling at him like the cat who was about to eat the canary. “Exactly,” Dirk replied, sitting back on the seat of his bike. “The new bikes are nice and all, but they’re too complicated for me, too much electronic shit that can go wrong and fuck up your ride. This one is simple, classic, and does what I

Adventures of Dirk: Restoring a Tiger (Part 2) Dirk provides sex therapy insights. By Original Aramis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. (be sure to catch part 1, before continuing this episode) The look in her eyes had changed from timid to tigress, and Dirk was now her prey. She rose up on her knees and lunged at him, grabbing his cock and shoving her mouth down on it. Then she grabbed him by the hips and pushed her head forward, shoving his entire cock as deep into her mouth as she could. She held it there for just a moment, then started sliding her mouth up and down his shaft like a woman possessed, twisting his jeans in her fists as she tightened her grip on them for support. She sucked him hard, fast and deep, her hair and the spit flying. Dirk looked down in amazement, his body rocking back and forth from the effort she was putting into sucking his cock. He watched her go at him for a full minute before she finally slid her mouth from his cock, looking up at him with shiny, watery eyes and a big smile on her face as she spoke. “God, I love sucking your cock!” she exclaimed, panting for breath. She looked at him for just a moment more, then slid her mouth back onto his shaft and went back to work. She grabbed Dirk’s hands and put them on the sides of her head, and Dirk got the message. He grabbed her by the hair and face-fucked her again, harder and faster this time, and her muffled cries of passion told him that he was doing exactly what she wanted. She braced herself with her hands on the front of his thighs as he shoved her mouth up and down on his cock, then reached down with one hand and started fingering her pussy. She moaned and cried out as she touched herself, and it was only a matter of moments before she came. She came hard, her body shivering as her orgasm exploded inside her, a muffled cry coming from her mouth full of Dirk’s cock, and she squeezed her eyes closed in reaction to the intensity of her orgasm. She gripped his jeans hard in one hand as she furiously worked her pussy with the other, keeping Dirk’s cock in her mouth as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. It was over as fast as it had started, and Dirk released her hair from his hands as she fell back onto her haunches. The scent of her musk filled the room, and Dirk could see that her pink panties were absolutely soaked with her juices. She looked up at him, gasping and panting for breath, her mouth hanging open, saliva dripping from her chin onto her cleavage. She was giving him the same look as before, telling him that she wasn’t done with him just yet. “I want that cock inside me!” she panted, looking up at him from beneath her brows once more. The look of pure lust was burning brightly in her eyes with an intensity that Dirk had never seen before in any woman. “I need that cock inside me!” she said, lunging up and grabbing Dirk’s jeans with both hands. She yanked them down around his knees, then grabbed his boxers by the sides of the fly and ripped them wide open, literally tearing them from his hips. ‘Holy shit!’ Dirk thought as she looked up at him, a lustful smile on her face. She jumped to her feet and immediately wrapped her arms around Dirk’s neck and kissed him, pushing her tongue deep into his mouth and grinding her entire body against his. Dirk could feel the heat of her pussy against him, and his cock throbbed as it was trapped between them. He put his arms around her and held her tight, kissing her back. She moved as they kissed, turning him so his back was to the bed and then stepping towards the bed until the back of his knees were touching the mattress. With his jeans and ripped boxers around his lower legs Dirk had to shuffle, but he managed to move without falling over. Stephanie broke off the kiss, and then put her hands on Dirk’s chest and shoved him backwards. He fell back onto the bed, his lower legs hanging off the side, and watched in amazement as Stephanie ripped her panties from her hips and tossed them aside.

Adventures of Dirk: Discovering A Lost Tigress  (part 1)Dirk does a favor for a friend with unexpected results. By Original Aramis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Dirk & Wally “You want me to do what?” Dirk asked, one eyebrow cocked up, a quizzical look on his face. He was raising his beer to his lips when Wally, one of his best friends from high school, had said something that made his hand stop halfway up to his face, the beer suspended in mid-air. Dirk was so surprised that he half expected the bar to go quiet at this revelation, but of course it didn’t. They were sitting at a small round table in the center of the dark biker bar, and no one paid any attention to them except the waitress whenever they needed a refill. She had already been there twice, and Dirk was now sure she would be coming back again very soon. “I want you to have sex with my wife,” he repeated simply. He said this as matter-of-factly as if he had been stating a well-known and obvious fact, but to Dirk it was anything but. “I want you to come over to my house tomorrow night at seven o'clock and have sex with my wife.” “You want me to fuck your wife,” Dirk repeated, making Wally grimace slightly at his use of the common terminology for having sex. Wally sighed before replying. “Yes, Dirk, I want you to fuck my wife,” he said, pushing his black horn-rimmed glasses up onto his nose. “Why, Wally?” Dirk asked, sitting forward and putting the now-empty beer on the table. He leaned over and crossed his forearms on the table, hands resting on his biceps, looking his friend in the eyes as he spoke. “Why would you want me to do this? I mean, after all, she’s your fuckin’ wife, for cryin’ out loud, not some bimbo hanging around the clubhouse looking for stray dick!” “It’s a long story, Dirk, and to be honest it’s not something I want to go into right now,” Wally replied, toying with his own beer sitting on the table in front of him. “Let’s just say that Stephanie and I are both looking for something to make our sex life more - well, exciting, I guess - and we both think that this will do it.” “Uh huh,” Dirk said, reaching inside his leather club vest for his cigarettes and lighter. He shook one out of the pack and put it in his mouth, then thumbed open his Zippo lighter and spun the wheel, tossing the pack of cigarettes onto the table. After lighting his cigarette the lighter followed. Dirk took a deep drag on his cigarette and then sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and blowing out the smoke as he looked at his friend. Dirk and Wally were the exact opposites from each other in just about every way, yet they were best friends. They’d been that way ever since high school when Dirk saved Wally from getting the shit kicked out of him by a couple of punks at school one day. Dirk had always hated bullies, so when he saw what was going on with Wally in the locker room one afternoon, he stepped in and took care of things. Two of the punks ended up going to the hospital and Dirk was suspended for a week, but that paved the way for he and Wally to become fast friends. Wally was the quintessential nerd, a true geek in every sense of the word, but he had a heart of gold and his loyalty could only be compared to that of a Golden Retriever. His common sense had kept Dirk out of trouble several times for the rest of their time in high school, and Dirk never forgot that. He loved Wally just as much as he loved his brothers in his motorcycle club, and he knew that Wally felt the same way. After high school Wally had gone to the local junior college and come out with a degree in accounting, and now worked for the local bank as the manager of accounts. Dirk’s life had taken a completely different course. He held down several small jobs for a couple of years, then joined a motorcycle club in the next town over and immersed himself in the biker culture. That lifestyle fit Dirk like a glove, although at times he found it hard to balance it with the responsibilities th

Adventures of Dirk: The Lady Farmer;Dirk has a sensual encounter with a robust lady farmer. By Original Aramis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The sun was lying low on the horizon, full dark not more than an hour off, when Dirk pulled his Harley into a parking space in front of the small general store in the center of town. He’d been on the road for two days and was halfway through a four-day trip, and this was just one of a dozen small Midwestern towns he’d passed through in the past 24 hours. They all looked the same after a while, like something out of “The Andy Griffith Show,” but he figured that wasn’t really so bad after all. This town was smaller than most with no more than a dozen buildings lining each side of what he thought was Main Street, and as he looked around he didn’t see what he was looking for. As he looked up and down both sides of the street he noticed that he was the center of attention, and he certainly understood why - there wasn’t another bike in sight, much less another biker, and he knew that the locals certainly weren’t used to long-haired strangers in old jeans, t-shirts, and leather vests festooned with club patches riding into town on a bike that sounded like thunder on two wheels. He took off his helmet, hung it on the mirror, and then walked towards the wooden door to the general store, stripping off his black leather fingerless gloves as he went. The air inside the store was cool, and it was a welcome relief from the heat of the late August afternoon. A bell over the door jingled as he walked in, and a man who must have been the owner looked up at him from behind the counter to Dirk’s left. There was a woman standing on this side of the counter as well, but Dirk didn’t pay much attention to her at first. “Howdy, stranger,” the man said, sounding like something out of an old Western movie. Dirk smiled a bit as he replied. “Hey, how are ya,” he said, pulling a red paisley bandana out of his back pocket and wiping his face. “Where are your drink coolers?” he asked, stuffing the bandana back in his pocket. “Rear of the store to your right,” the man said, pointing in that direction. “Thanks,” Dirk said, walking towards the coolers, his motorcycle boots clumping on the wooden floor. A few moments later he walked up to the counter and placed two big bottles of Gatorade on the counter. He nodded at the woman next to the counter and gave her a polite smile, and she smiled back. He was considerably taller than her; he stood six feet even, and she was five foot nothing at the most. “That do it for ya?” the man behind the counter asked. Dirk nodded as he replied. “Yeah, that’s it,” he said as the man rang up the drinks. “That’ll be three dollars and ten cents,” he said, reaching for a paper bag as Dirk pulled his leather wallet out of his other back pocket, the chain attached to it swinging. “That’s okay, I don’t need a bag,” Dirk said, pulling a five out of his wallet and handing it to the man. Then he picked up one of the bottles, twisted the cap off, and took a long drink out of it. It was cold and good, and it gave him chills as it went down. He took his change from the man and stuffed it in one of the side pockets of his vest, then took another smaller drink from the bottle before speaking again. “Is there a motel around here somewhere?” he asked the man behind the counter. “I didn’t see one on the main drag out front.” “You didn’t see one because they’re ain’t one,” the man replied, smiling at Dirk. “And the closest motel from here is in Junction City, about eighty miles thataway,” the man said, pointing down the road in the direction that Dirk was travelling. “Great, just freakin’ great,” Dirk muttered. “Another hour and a half on the road…just what I need!” “You need a place to stay, cowboy?” the woman said, and Dirk turned and looked at her, really seeing her for the first time. She was short, about five feet tall, with sparkling blue eyes and short red hair worn in a “pageboy” style. S

Adventures of Dirk: The Little Maneater Dirk gets picked up by a hot brunette in a bar. By Original Aramis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Dirk walked into the bar a little past midnight, well past the prime grazing period for the singles that usually haunted bars on Friday and Saturday nights. On most nights he’d be out there competing for female companionship with the best of them, and he could count on one hand the number of times he’d gone home alone after closing time. He had his favorite bars to hang out in, and this bar wasn’t one of them. Hell, he wasn’t even in his own town. He’d just gotten in from a long road trip on his Harley-Davidson and had finished unpacking at his motel when he got the urge for a beer, so he headed for the nearest bar to get one.  He stopped at the first one he came to, a fairly decent looking place called “Jessie’s Bar and Grill,” parked the bike in front and came inside. His leather jacket and chaps drew a little bit of attention as he walked across the room; he guessed they didn’t get many bikers there since he didn’t see any parked out front. He found himself a table in the back where he could sit and watch the little bit of action going on in the bar, ordered up a beer, and sat back to relax and unwind. As soon as the waitress showed up with his beer he took a long swallow; the beer felt good going down. He put the beer down on the table and then sat back, relaxing as he looked around the room. The first thing he noticed was an intense brunette sitting at the far end of the bar. She was intense in more ways than one - her brown hair was long, past her shoulders, and she was wearing a strapless white tube dress that fit her lithe body like a glove, showing off every curve and bump. And man, did she have some bumps! Her breasts were very large, round and full, her nipples showing through the tight material of the dress. She was looking right at him, and the look on her face told Dirk at once that this woman meant business - she had ‘man-eater’ written all over her, but Dirk didn’t care. She had him fixed with an intent gaze, her dark eyes looking right at him, and as Dirk watched a small half-smile crept to her lips. She picked up her beer and got off her stool, showing plenty of leg as she did so, and walked towards him without taking her eyes off of him. Dirk could tell by the way her big breasts wobbled when she walked that she was braless; not that she needed one that badly, anyhow. And if her rear end moved the way her front did, the guys behind her were getting quite a show. She kept her eyes fixed on Dirk as she walked over to his table, and Dirk glanced around to see every male pair of eyes in the room following her as she walked. He could only wonder what they were thinking. “Mind if I sit down?” she asked in a smooth, sultry voice. “Now why in the world would I mind?” Dirk asked. She smiled that half-smile again in response and then sat down, crossing her shapely legs. “I’m Kelly,” she said, her brown eyes fixed on him. “You’re new here.” “Dirk; and you’re right, I’ve never been here before,” he replied. “I just got into town about an hour ago. As soon as I checked in to the motel I felt the need for a beer, and this was the first place I found. So here I am.” “I thought so; I know most of the men who come in here by sight, and I’d have remembered you if you’d been here before,” she said, taking a sip of her beer. “And why would you have remembered me?” Dirk asked. “Because your ass looks really good in those chaps, and no one else around here has the balls to wear them, much less ride a bike,” she said, not missing a beat. “If you’d been in here before, I’d remember you!” 'Ah,’ Dirk thought to himself, 'a woman who isn’t afraid to speak her mind!’ “What kind of bike do you ride?” she asked. “Harley,” he replied. “Nice. Which model?” “Heritage Softail Classic. 100th Anniversary model.” “Very nice; my favorite,” she said, leaning forward and putting her elbows on the tab

Caitlyn’s Reunion Union: Popping the Cherry The five-year reunion held some surprises. By PickFiction. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. “Caitlyn, you, I mean, I, you can’t imagine how many times I looked at you and wanted that to happen. And now it just did, and I still don’t know what to do.” I pulled back so we could look at each other but kept my arms locked around his neck, just inches between our faces. Mason was having trouble maintaining eye contact with me. As I looked at his face, I thought about what he had just said. Did he have fantasies involving me just as I’d had about Kirk? Was I doing to him now what Kirk had just done to me? Unlike Kirk, though, my gun had no notches, and I would be very surprised if Mason’s gun were different from mine. Did I want to marry him? Certainly, not now. Did I really like him in the few hours I’d been with him this evening? I sure did, maybe because he was not that much different than I was. But the music stopped, and the DJ was taking a break, so we had no choice but to return to my table. I saw Eileen heading toward us, but she stopped, smiled, gave a little wave, and stayed away. Mason grabbed my last two drink tickets. “Let me get you something,” he volunteered. “Whatever it is, I’m having the same thing.” His huge smile said more than words could. Did I need more buzz? My speech wasn’t slurred now–I was recovering a tiny bit. I looked at Mason’s expectant face. “Chardonnay, with both,” I added. Might as well get the big buzz since I wouldn’t be driving. As Mason went toward the bar, I saw Kirk, his coat on and his arm around a pretty girl whose name I couldn’t recall. They left together. Mason was back with the wine, and while we talked, I downed the first in three large swallows, and I noticed his face was a little fuzzy. But the DJ was back, and the music began again. “Let’s dance,” he said, standing. Maybe this would work well. I quickly downed the second glass and hoped Mason didn’t think I was a wino. “You’ll have to help me,” I said, and I was sure he could hear the way I was pronouncing my words. “Love to,” he replied, arm around my waist, leading me between tables. Arms around his neck once more, I was hanging onto him, and he was supporting most of my weight. He moved his head and looked at me. “You sure you’re okay? That’s a lot of wine.” I kissed him. Then he kissed me. Even without any fantasies to recall, I could feel my body responding. I loosed my arms from his neck, grabbed his hand, and headed for a door I had been through earlier in the evening. “Where are we going, Caitlyn?” Please call me Cait or Cat.“ "Where are we going, Cait.” We were halfway down the first hallway. “Somewhere, I think you’ll enjoy,” I said, wanting to add that I knew I’d enjoy it. We wound through the ever darker hallways until we were in the nook where Kirk had brought me earlier, Mason holding tight to my hand and, I was sure, wondering what was happening. I turned to face Mason, smiling and allowing our eyes to adapt to the darkness. He was biting his lower lip, his eyes locked with mine. “Cait, what…?” “Mason, do you see anything you like?” My voice came out low and breathy due to what was happening with my body. “Cait, I…of course…” “Mason,” I said again. “Do you see anything you like?” “I see you, Cait, and I’ve liked you all these years.” “Why didn’t you do something about it?” “A doll like you wouldn’t be interested in a freckle-faced redhead.” I smiled at his answer. “Mason, I hope you see how wrong you were, so do you see anything you like?” My chest was heaving, and I could see his was too. “Don’t hate me, Cait,” he said, “but…I like your breasts.” “Mason put your hands on my shoulders.” Slowly, he did. “Now, take hold of the straps of my dress.” His eyes never left mine. “Now, slide them off my shoulders and down my arms.” I felt the straps move, then the dress, catching on my now very extended nipples before dropping to my waist. It took a very few seconds for him