Sex Machine by Alastair Anders
(motorcycle vibrator, solo sex, female ejaculation)

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Synopsis

After her stupid boyfriend stands her up, punk princess Taylor realizes what she actually found attractive about him: his big, sexy, throbbing motorcycle. Astride the gleaming chopper, Taylor discovers new heights of female pleasure and power. Contains sex toys, one hot ride, and a big gushing orgasm at the end!



EXCERPT:

Taylor stood up, tossed back the rest of the whiskey, and hurled the flask far off into the gloom. What had she ever seen in Jared, anyway? She tried to think back to the first time she had seen him – the tight white T-shirt across his muscular chest, the bad-boy earrings in his ear, the heavy motorcycle boots he wore, the tantalizing bulge in his leather pants… the motorcycle he straddled.

Was that it?

Taylor approached Jared’s bike in the gloom. It was a beautiful, gleaming, black-and-blue Triumph with studded leather everything and skull-shaped side mirrors. She wanted so badly to drive it, but he’d never let her – relegating her to riding in the bitch seat, and holding onto him.

She ran her hand over the back of the seat, caressing the leather. An electric tingle ran through her fingertips. She rubbed the leather and stroked the gleaming chassis. The bike was sexier than Jared, with its low rumbling roar and its shining chrome.

Taylor swung one leg over the motorcycle and pulled herself on top of it. The bike was so huge that Taylor’s feet barely touched the ground when she straddled it – as she lowered herself onto the seat, only the very tip-toes of her steel-toed boots reached the garage floor.

She settled herself into the rider’s seat. Squeezing the motorcycle between her skinny legs made her feel incredibly powerful, like she was riding a thundercloud across the prairies. The seam in her jeans settled right against her clit, and her pussy lips rubbed obscenely against the fabric as she shifted her weight.

She giggled. On top of the bike she felt dirty, and sexy, and also strong and invulnerable. She ran her hands over her small breasts, cupping them with her palms, feeling the metal from her pierced nipples press against her palms. She wasn’t wearing a bra that night, and every touch sent a tingle down to her clit. Why not? No one was watching.

Jared always left the keys in the ignition. The skull keychain swung in front of her, like the bike was begging her to turn it on. She grasped the key between her thumb and forefinger. Should she do it? Would Jared be mad? Did she care?
 

About Alastair Anders

See more books from this Author
 
Published February 26, 2012 23 pages
Genres: Erotica, Literature & Fiction. Fiction

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