Chapter 9

Art, being a Cuban refugee, spoke rather slowly and took great pains with his English. I liked him right away, partly because it was obvious he loved my sister and treated her well, and partly for just himself. I wondered if he was serious about going back to Cuba with an invasion force of other refugees to attempt to retake the country from Castro. He seemed to be when he talked of it, and the way Becky's eyes shone while he spoke made me wonder if she intended to go along with him, though she never said so and I couldn't bring myself to ask her.

They were both alive and very vital. I kept thinking Art was partly colored, because of his dark skin and thick, wavy black hair, but of course I didn't mention it, and neither did anyone else. It did make me feel rather strange, though, sitting there on the floor with Becky and watching my wife lie with her head in his lap. (Art and Willa were on the couch.)

We talked for a long time, because they were only going to spend the one night with us before they went on to the West Coast for a few days and then back to Florida. Becky had met Art in Miami on vacation the previous winter, and had never gone back to her well-paying job in New York. He was an artist, too, and they'd pooled their works and money to start a small gallery in Miami, which they planned to open and operate as soon as they got back from their motorcycle trip.

It was about eleven-thirty when Becky suggested we go for a bike ride before we turned in for the night.

"I'd rather we all hopped in our bed for a ride," Willa said, lifting her head to kiss Art and giving Becky and I a look at the bulge in his pants which her head had been nuzzling.

My own penis erected instantly. It always does when Willa is with another guy and they're getting in the mood for sex.

"Come on, Bubba," Becky said, getting up and pulling my hand. "Let's you and I go for a ride if they don't want to."

"I want to," Art insisted, grinning as he looked up with Willa still planting little kisses on his neck.

"No one can call me a spoilsport," Willa said, jumping up. "I'm a little afraid of those things, though. Can you ride a motorcycle, Burt?"

"He can," Becky assured her.

"It's been a long time, Becky," I said hesitantly.

"It's like swimming, Bubba. Once you learn how you never forget. Besides, I'm riding with you. Willa can ride with Art, and he's a very good rider."

Willa sighed. "I can vouch for that already, honey. Why do you think I want to get him in bed?"

"You want him to lay you again?" Becky asked with a smile.

"Mmm ... yes."

"Take your panties off then, because you're going to get a motorcycle ride and laid at the same time," Becky chuckled, hoisting the skirt she'd put on after our shower and taking her own drawers off.

"What?" Willa gasped.

"You heard me. Go on. Take 'em off. Art and I discovered it by accident one night and we've been doing it every since. It's really great on a bike. . . the wind beating in your face and the bike roaring and jerking along."

"I don't know," Willa said slowly. "It sounds dangerous."

"Art's never lost control yet," Becky said confidently. "He can come and go at the same time. You'll love it."

"Burt?" Willa asked, glancing questioningly at me.

I shrugged. "Hell, baby, I'm as much in the dark about this as you are, but it sounds like fun. Take your panties off."

Willa looked a bit doubtful still, but she lifted her dress and took off her bikini briefs, tossing them on the couch and taking Art's hand.

We went outside. The moonlight was bright even for the Southwest, and I took a moment to admire their bikes. They were identical twins, Honda 350s, with green tanks and lots of chrome shining. Art's bike had over five thousand miles on it and Becky's three, but they both looked showroom-new except for the light traveling dust which had accumulated during their trip.

"Nice-looking machines," I said earnestly, feeling the bug to ride beginning to gnaw inside me. "But I've never ridden one of these Japanese jobs. I'm an old Harley man, you know."

"Don't snub them," Art said. "They may be a bit small and light, but they'll snap out pretty good."

I assured him I wasn't making light of their imported bikes, and he showed me the five gears and all, then Willa hopped on behind him and Becky behind me and. we started off, Art with a snappy flourish and a mighty roar, and me taking it easy till I got used to the Honda. It did have a good deal of muscle, though, and I found myself tooling right along with him after the first few blocks. Because he didn't know the city, Art fell behind and I led the way out Dyer, thinking the straight stretch of highway between El Paso and Orogrande would be a good deserted place to try the nutty idea Becky had.

How in hell we were going to manage a piece on a moving motorcycle I didn't have the faintest idea, but with Becky's luscious tits pressing into my back, and her small hands roaming my loins, I was eager to find out.

Art drew alongside me and we zipped out Dyer riding side by side in the same lane. I could see Willa's hands doing the same thing to him that my sister's were to me, and it excited me so much I nearly went through the last traffic light before I down-geared the bike and got it stopped.

While we waited for the light to change, a police car stopped in the next lane. An officer stuck out his head and started to say something, then grinned and wagged his finger.

"Were we speeding?" Becky asked innocently.

"A little," the officer said. "I didn't get a clock on you so I can't write you a ticket, but hold it down. If the kids see you guys getting away with it, they'll think they can too, and too many of them can't handle a bike as well as they ought to."

"Right," I said, because he was right and what else could I say? "And thanks."

The light turned green. He nodded and waved while the car pulled away. We rode alongside the police car till they turned off, then we went on out of town at the top end of the legal speed. When we'd left all signs of civilization behind and were flying low at eighty per, Becky shouted:

"Stop! Let's fuck!"

She had to shout at that speed to be heard over the drone of the engines and the rush of the cool night air. Still, Art didn't hear her, and he had to turn around and come back to where I'd stopped Becky's bike on the shoulder of the highway.

Becky was off the bike when Art coasted to a stop beside us and gave her a swat on her rounded butt. She yelped, then grabbed him and kissed him.

I took Willa's hand, she was still sitting on the bike behind Art, and pulled her to me for a kiss.

"So far, I like biking," Willa said. "Although I will admit it was a bit scary going so fast ... at first."

"Well be going slower now, honey," Becky told her. "Hop off and climb on in front of Art. Here, I'll show you how."

With that Becky pushed me far back on the seat and swung a leg over to sit in front of me. She lifted her skirt, reached back and unzipped my fly, then took my hard prick out and half tugged me forward and half scooted back to meet me. They had knapsacks tied onto the center of the handlebars of both bikes, and Becky leaned forward till her face and shoulders were resting on her knapsack.

"Got the idea, Willa?" she called over the idling engines.

"I think so," Willa answered. "But what do I do with my legs?"

"This," Becky said, throwing her legs up and locking her ankles in front of the fork, letting her feet rest on the sturdy chrome fender above the front tire.

"I've never liked it very well dog-fashion," Willa protested halfheartedly, but she got on in front of Art and positioned herself the same as Becky.

"You'll like it this time," Becky assured. "The way that little seam in the middle of the gas tank flips your clit, is almost enough to drive you out of your gourd ... among other things. You ready, Bubba? Put it in me easy this time, will you? I think I'm bruised from earlier."

As I pushed my dick into Becky's moist cunt, I heard Willa gasp, "No, Art! That's the wrong hole!"

He looked sort of sheepish, saying, "Sorry, baby. You guide it, why don't you?"

I was already into Becky, with her smiling back over her shoulder at me and wiggling her buttocks snugly into my lower abdomen. It was light enough I could see my wife reach back and take Art's dark cock in her hand and guide his glans to her hairy opening. He was hung a little better than me, and a twinge of jealousy shot through me as he sank it all in Willa and she heaved a pleasured sigh.

"Mmm ... I like it already," Willa cooed, wiggling back close against Art and resting her face on the knapsack. "Ok, let's go ... let's ride and ride and ride!"

"Third gear, man," Art said, "Stay in third for power and keep the revs up around seven thousand." Then he stomped the shifted lever into low and spun gravel as he shot off with Willa impaled on his cock and sucking in her breath with surprised pleasure.

"Let's go, Bubba. Catch 'em and well ride side by side."

I spun the rear wheel myself as I goosed the engine and took off after Art and Willa. It wasn't bad, riding with my dick in Becky, but so far I didn't see anything especially better than plain old screwing to it. Like Art had told me, I shifted up to third and left it there. When I pulled alongside him and Willa, the engine was screaming with ten thousand revolutions per minute -- and man did it have power up there! When I cut it quickly back to seven thousand, Becky was thrown about three inches forward, and when I adjusted the twist-grip throttle to keep the bike whining along at seven thousand revs, she was slung back against me in the most delightful way. Then I knew what my sister and her husband saw in the sport they'd accidentally learned.

It was a great way to ball, and I could see Willa had learned that fact even sooner than I had. She had her arms under the handlebars, her fingers gripping them on either side of the knapsack. Her face was turned toward Becky and me, and I could see the whole bit was really sending her. The knapsack rolled with her as Art rhythmically goosed the bike and let up, goosed it and let up, making her jerk forward and then slide quickly back on his stiff dong.

"How is it, Willa?" Becky called.

"Oh, God!" she yelled.

"Didn't I tell you, honey?"

"Yes, but, Jesus ... you didn't tell me about all these wonderful vibrations! Oh, cats! I think I'm gonna come already!"

"Kinda gets to your clit, doesn't it?" Becky yelled back.

However, I don't think Willa heard her. Art was really tossing her back and forth by then. I could see her lips draw back over her clenched teeth. A second later her face looked as if she was crying and I could hear her sobbing, barely, as she buried her face in the knapsack and let orgasm flood over her.

"Sounds like your wife is enjoying herself, Bubba. "

"Your brother is, too, sis. This is terrific!"

"Mmm ... it's never been better than now, Bubba. Snap it, baby. Rock me into heaven on your magic stick!"

It was really a lazy way to fuck. All I had to do was twist the handle grip and let it loose, twist it and let it loose; and every time I did it made Becky's hot pussy slide jerkily up and down my joy stick. It was the wildest thing you could imagine, and I really liked it on a motorcycle because it gave me complete control of myself. I wasn't hunching, just twisting my wrist and letting the bike do every bit of the work, and because I wasn't thrusting I figured I could hold back my orgasm and go on riding all night.

Art grinned my way, and I knew he was thinking the same thing. "Willa is a sweet hunk!" he called. "She almost got me there for a minute, the way her insides went wild!"

"Let's go on past Orogrande!" I yelled happily.

"If the girls can take it!" he called back, screwing the living shit out of Willa and moving nothing but his wrist.

At first I didn't know what he meant about the girls taking it, but they couldn't for very long. Where Art and I had perfect control, they had none at all. The engines sent millions of vibrations through the tubular frames and gas tanks to bombard their pleasure buttons, and the way they were leaned forward caused the tops of their cunts to slide incessantly over the seams along the top of the gas tanks, as well as our hard dicks. Becky and Willa each had multiple orgasms before they began begging us to come and get it over with, complaining they couldn't hold on any longer because they were so weak.

Art nodded to me and began hunching Willa as well as jerking her back and forth on his dick with the power of the bike's engine. Reluctantly, because I wanted to go on riding some more, I started hunching Becky with deliberately long and powerful strokes.

"Oh, you bastard!" she groaned. "You wonderful bastard!"

"You really love Bubba's fuck stick, don't you, sis?" I taunted, feeling omnipotent as the wind rushed at me along with orgasm.

Becky didn't hear me. The bikes had five gears and we were only in third, but keeping the engines blatting a little below seven thousand revolutions per minute and a little above it moved us along around fifty miles an hour, causing a fairly high-pitched whine and a constant roar of wind.

It didn't matter that she hadn't heard me, though, because my cock started throbbing with the onset of orgasm, and nothing mattered to me then. I gritted my teeth and clung to the handle-grips for dear life, yelling with the intensity of my climax as the first jet of come burst from my prick and hit deep into Becky's sweet cunt.

"Twist it! " Art shouted to me.

I could tell he was shooting into my wife by the choked tone of his voice. He sort of yelled as I glanced out of the corner of my eyes and saw him snap the throttle full open. His bike lurched forward, slamming Willa's soft butt hard against him and keeping it there, the full length of his spurting cock in her as they sped wildly ahead of us.

It happened a lot faster than it can be told, but I realized what he meant and gave Becky's bike all it would take. I jerked the gas feed open and let it go, gluing her fanny into my lap as the engine screamed shrilly and the bike shot forward.

How I managed to hold the damned thing on the highway I'll never know, but I did. Instinct, I guess, because I sure as hell wasn't thinking consciously about riding a motorcycle. My nuts were jerking and my dick was spraying the walls of my sister's spasming cunt with love's own nectar, and I couldn't do anything except hold on and moan. When I finally stopped coming, the needle on the tachometer was going into the danger zone and we were zooming past Art and Willa.

"Let up!" Art screamed.

I relaxed my grip on the throttle and let the spring spin it completely off. The bike groaned along with me as it rapidly lost speed and Becky was thrown off my cock. When I let it coast to a stop on the shoulder, my knees were so weak I almost dropped it and Becky to the ground. Almost but not quite, for I did get both feet on the ground in time to catch the bike and hold it upright before I put down the kickstand and leaned forward over Becky, trembling and panting as I pushed my face into her wind-tangled hair and kissed the side of her face.

"Mmmm ... " she sighed contentedly, reaching down to turn off the ignition key.

The engine stopped and the lights went off.

"I hope I didn't hurt your engine. The needle went a little way into the red zone."

"Fuck the engine," she moaned. "Help me off. I'm too goddamned weak to move!"

Art and Willa whizzed past us. I helped Becky off the bike, then leaned on it and held her to me. She was trembling all over, especially her hand when she held my limp dong.

"Oh, shit, that was good! Did you like it, Bubba?"

"Yeah, sis, but I think once is enough. Christ, if it'd been any better I'd have lost control and killed us both! "

"It is a little dangerous, I guess, but isn't it a fantastic way to ball?"

"Outasight," I grinned. "Completely outasight."

Willa must have thought so, too. When Art pulled up beside us, facing the other way, he cut the ignition and swung off, but Willa only moaned and lay clinging to the handlebars. Her lips felt cold when I bent to kiss her. I ran my hand over her ass. It wasn't cold, and neither was her pussy. Her hairy lips felt very hot and slick to my fingers.

"You all right, Willa?" I asked.

She smiled and moaned.

I lifted her off Art's bike and kissed her.

"I've gotta go," Willa mumbled, pushing away from me, nearly falling before she got her dress pulled up and squatted.

It sounded like the proverbial cow pissing on its flat rock when she let loose and watered the ground between her feet. We laughed. Becky squatted and joined Willa, the two of them holding hands and smiling as they emptied their bladders. Art reached over and took my hand, brought it to his sex-slick organ and placed my fingers around it, then he held my cock and we pissed, too.

We moved away from the four moist spots of earth and lay down for a smoke, mine and Art's cocks still hanging out. We didn't even bother to put them in our pants when the lights of a car heading toward El Paso approached. The car zipped past without so much as a honk of its horn and we all laughed. We were too contented and relaxed to talk much. Finally we got on the bikes, Becky behind Art and Willa behind me, and rode back home at a leisurely sixty miles per, penises in pants and flies zipped up.

That night our bed discovered it could hold four people. It was somewhat crowded, Art on one side and me on the other with the girls between us, all of us bare-assed as the day we were born. Willa lay next to me and Becky snuggled up to her husband. I was about half asleep, because I figured we were all screwed out for the night, when I realized Art and Becky were going at it. For a while I just lay there, listening to them and feeling the bed jiggle. Finally it got to me. Willa was asleep, but I got on her and put it in her anyway. It woke her right up, and she started moving with me, telling me how much she loved me and putting her whole heart into it. I don't think I've ever enjoyed screwing her more than that time. There was nothing particularly special about our lovemaking, at least not the physical part of it, but my heart nearly burst with the love I felt for her.