Old Man's Ride(15)

“Good,” he said softly, “Very good. Now. Stand with your legs wider. Touch your pussy.”

I placed my feet further apart. With a wicked little grin, feeling powerful despite taking his orders, my fingers trailed across my thigh, through my soft patch of hair, and I brushed the pink folds of my sex. I gasped at the gentle contact - it stoked the fire within me. I hoped his hands would replace mine soon. I could imagine them, feel them, as I anticipated his touch.

“Nice,” he said. He began to circle me again. “Just like that. Real light.” He stood close behind me - I could smell his sweat, his smoky leather jacket, the dust from the road. I could feel the heat radiating off his body. “Now, this is important. You can’t come until I say, understand?”

“Yes,” I breathed. My fingers were coated with my juices as I kept stroking. I avoided my most sensitive places, but that didn’t stop the rising tide of arousal.

“Repeat it back to me.”

“I can’t come until you say.”

“Good.” His fingers brushed the back of my neck - not touching, just close enough to graze the tiny, delicate hairs there. He breathed against my ear, his breath hot, his lips just barely touching. Delicious shivers of anticipation roiled through my body.

My back cooled as he stepped away. I expected him to circle me again, but instead, the door slammed.

I whipped around. He was gone. Son of a bitch.



---



That was just the first time he left me hanging. Luckily, my desperation to be clean and my exhaustion eventually took my brain back over, and I got myself back together.

I was expected to run all sorts of errands for the club - anything, for any member ranked higher than me. I could refuse a request, of course - if I was at work, or if it was something I couldn't or wouldn't do - but it could effect that member's vote later, when I was up for full membership.

That there was the problem with becoming a full member as a woman. Some of the guys would withhold their votes for sexual favors. But once a favor like that was granted, they often decided they couldn't respect her anymore and would refuse her membership anyway. It was why there were no female members now, and hadn't been for as long as I'd known the club.

One of my first assignments was a pickup - one of the members was being released from a prison a few miles away. Bill loaned me an old pickup truck from the automotive shop owned by another member and sent me on my way. His only instruction was to wait in the parking lot and wear my new jacket. Easy enough.

Nomad pushed his way into the driver's seat, making me slide over to the passenger side. It was three days after he'd left me hanging in my living room, and I hadn't seen him since then.

"What are you doing?" I asked. "I thought I was going alone."

"You are." He slipped on his big black sunglasses. "I just need a ride to the clubhouse first." The clubhouse. I hadn't been invited inside of yet. I doubted that today would be the day. Somehow, I knew he had something else on his mind.

Sure enough, he pulled onto a quiet stretch of road heading east - not exactly the most direct route.

He was unusually silent. I got the impression that he was waiting for me to speak first. My stubborn side wanted to lock my jaw shut. But this was Nomad.

"I haven't seen much of you around," I said. "Have you been traveling?"

"No time for small talk today, girly. Unzip my pants."

The old bastard was waiting for me to break the silence, and just so we could continue his game. Again, a war took place inside my head. I wanted to please him, but dammit, I deserved at least a little respect; I wore the jacket, though not the full club colors yet.

It didn't matter what my head thought, though, because my fingers were already undoing his jeans and pulling his magnificent cock free. Further instructions weren't needed - I lovingly stroked it until it grew fully hard in my palm, like a hot steel rod wrapped in silk. I reveled in the feel of his soft skin before leaning over and planting my lips around it.

I took him as fully into my mouth as I could and sucked hard - no teasing, no soft touches. Road head wasn't about playing nice, it was about getting off fast. I squeezed my hand inside his pants to massage his sack, rolling his heavy balls in my palm as I drooled over his cock.

The masculine taste of his sweat and flesh had me hungering for more immediately. With a deep moan, I massaged the underside of his shaft with the flat of my tongue. He squirmed in his seat. Good.

I bobbed my head and wrapped my other hand around the base of his cock, stroking with my movements. With both hands on him, it was difficult to balance myself as twisted around in the seat as I was, but I intended this to be done fast. I stroked and sucked as I tried to ignore the yearning I felt inside, loving the feeling of having him fill my mouth, but wishing he would fill me somewhere else.