This story was inspired by 'The Book' by Blackie.
I love my motorcycle. It's a Buell M2 Cyclone, handles like a dream, and eats sportbikes for breakfast. It also opened a whole new world of pleasure and excitement to me. Here is my story, enjoy.
It was a rainy Seattle morning (yeah, I know that's redundant) and I was on my way to work when some asshole decided he was tired of sitting in traffic and was going to use the carpool lane. Unfortunately, he also decided he wasn't going to look to see if anyone was currently using the section he wanted. I was. I locked 'em up, but I knew it was too little too late. Luckily, I was able to cut the impact speed from 70 to 30; it was still gonna hurt, but I might survive.
The last thing I remember was the back of the van (of course it had to be a van, couldn't be something small that I might have a chance of rolling over) getting real big, then... nothing till I woke up in the hospital. My wife was looking down at me and, even though she was crying, I could tell she was pissed.
"Are you going to sell that damn bike now? I knew something like this was going to happen!" she yelled.
The fact that it wasn't my fault didn't matter. The fact that I wouldn't have avoided the accident by being in a car didn't matter. The fact that I was in a hospital bed with a phenominal headache didn't matter. She was pissed and the only thing that mattered was that she had to make sure I knew that and that I was going to do whatever was necessary to make her feel better. Well, I wasn't in the mood. "Apparently, I'm gonna live. Otherwise, you wouldn't be such a bitch right now. Although that's debatable, I guess."
That set her back a step. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just so worried and angry right now!" Notice how she deftly steered the conversation back to her. It went on like this for awhile till the nurse came in and said I needed to rest.
I didn't break any bones, but I did dislocate my shoulder and bounce my head pretty hard (damn near split my helmet in two). The doctor said I could go home in a day, they just wanted to observe me for a while (said I had a concussion).
It was a week before I finally got out of there. The first night I started getting headaches so bad that the pain relievers for my shoulder could not keep up. They did all kinds of tests (cat scans, etc) to try to figure out what was wrong, but couldn't find a thing. Then, five agonizing days after they started, the headaches went away. I woke up one morning and felt great. The doctor gave me some shit about how the body heals itself blah-blah-blah and all I could think was, "then why am I paying you if I've done all the work?"
Well, my beautiful bike was trashed. The guy's insurance was gonna pay to have it repaired, but it was still heartbreaking to see it in such a mess. I guess I was riding the bus for a while.
"Hey guys, I'm sorry, but we've really got to go. This headache is killing me."
"Do want some asprin?" Jane asked.
"No. I've already taken a Perc. If that doesn't do it, nothing will. Thanks though. I just need to get into bed and try to sleep."
"You guys drive carefully. Give us a call if you need anything."
"Thanks Dan. We will. Bye."
"Is it really bad?" Tracy asked when we got in the car.
"Yeah. I think it's gonna be the worst. It's been two weeks since they stopped. Why now?"
"Let's just get to bed. If it's still there tomorrow, we're going to the hospital."
That night I had what I thought was a odd but highly erotic dream. I was back at Dan and Jane's house. I was following Jane up the stairs and she was talking to me about her massage classes. Seems she had a test tomorrow. She was sorry about my (the real me) headache, but was glad to be able to call it a night early. She needed her sleep.
"So, are you real tired, or do you want to get tired?" The dream me asked.
"Baby, you know I'm never too tired for you!" Jane said as she slipped her tshirt off. She then dropped the denim shorts she was wearing and stood there waiting for "me" to get undressed.
She was beautiful. Apparently, they hadn't reached the plain cotton undies stage yet. She was wearing a sexy white lace g-string (I noticed it was a g-string when she turned and walked over to the bed) and matching bra (front closure, my favorite).
"Well, are you just gonna stare at me all night or are you gonna get naked?"
Usually, my dreams aren't this lucid. By now, I'd be off to some Dali-esque landscape being chased by alligators with rubber teeth or something, but she was actually waiting for me.
"I'm sorry. You are just so incredibly beautiful that sometimes I just can't believe how lucky I am." Wow, my dream me is a bit of a silver-tongued devil. Hmmm, another odd thing. If I'm gonna be nude in a dream, it usually instantaneous. In this case, I could feel myself going through the whole process of getting undressed.
She was lying on her back propped up on her elbows watch me. When I was finally undressed and (very) hard, she licked her lips and said, "yummy!"
I approached the bed and leaned over her. Starting at her calves, I began planting kisses and licks up her legs. The farther up I got, the more she had to spread. By the time I reached her inner thighs, her pussy was almost totally exposed to my view. Only a thin strip of her g-string hid it from view, but what I could see was perfect.
.... There is more of this story ...