“Sure you don’t want to come? Rides like this are always better with a buddy,” Colt said, as he washed his Harley, while Neil watched from his own driveway next door.
“I don’t even have a bike, Colt.”
“That’s not a problem. I can find you a loaner.”
Neil shook his head, a bit confused why his neighbor was even offering. Well, a bit put off, really. He was pretty sure Colt was gay…and inviting him on a two week cross country bike ride? That seemed a bit…sketchy. “Hope you have a good time, Colt,” he said, and went into his house.
Colt chuckled–he was going to get one of his sexy daddy neighbors to ride with him, whether they wanted to or not. He rinsed off his bike, and then went into his house, found his special pipe and tobacco blend, and lit it.
Then, he went back out onto the porch, sat in his chair, and let the smoke waft away through the neighborhood, waiting for anyone to take the bait.
“Gah, fuck!” Neil said, standing at his desk where he’d been doing some work with the window open, looking down at the massive wad he’d just shot all over the papers laid out in front of him.
He’d been working just fine, and then…he’d smelled that…whatever that scent was, and he’d just…he’d never thought about anything like that before, on his knees in front of Colt, wearing biker leathers, begging him for his cock. Something…something was tugging at him, telling him to go back down and outside, but he resisted, got his clothes back on and sat back down, trying to make sense of the odd event. He could still…smell that odor, whatever it was. Was it smoke? He got up and went to the window to shut it, but froze, looking down at what was happening in Colt’s driveway.
On the other side of Colt’s house, that was where Blake lived. They weren’t close–he was another corporate fellow, working at another company in town, but they were good acquaintances. There in the driveway, however…was Blake and Colt. Colt was in his full leather gear, like Neil had seen in his fantasy, and Blake was on his hands and knees next to the bike, one hand under Colt’s boot, and his tongue making long, sweeping licks across the tire of Colt’s motorcycle.
He was horrified, yes, but more than that–he was jealous. Before he could really think about why, he bolted from his office and down to the front of his house, hurrying over to where Colt and Blake were on the driveway. “Wait…wait…I…I do have some vacation time, Colt, I could go!”
Colt just smiled around his pipe. “Thanks, but Blake’s going with me, right Blake? He’s been telling me how eager he is to get a taste of life on the road.”
Blake nodded, and looking at him, Neil noticed that Blake…looked different. A thin beard on his face, his body filling out slightly, a leather vest appearing over his shoulders from one moment to the next. Was…was it really too late? No–no, he wanted to go. He wanted to taste it, just once. He hurried over, hands shaking, dropped to his knees and started fighting with the zipper on Colt’s leather pants. He would show him. He’d show him how much he wanted this–but Colt pushed him back onto his ass with one gloved hand. “Pig, what makes you think you have permission to suck my cock?”
Neil gave a snort. Pig. Was…was he a pig? He didn’t care–as long as Colt was looking at him, as long as he could smell that sweet smoke. “Please sir, please let his pig suck your cock, let me show you I’m worthy, please…”
Colt grinned, squatted down, took a long draw off his pipe, and blew the smoke into Neil’s face, watching it go slack, the front of his pants darkening as he pissed himself, snorting and grunting in sudden excitement. “I suppose you can come too–but since I already have myself a roadboy–you’re going to have to settle for the role of filthy biker pig.”
One week into their trip, and they’d reached their destination. To Squeal–it was fucking heaven. Nothing but filthy bikers as far as the eye could see. Colt and his roadboy, Flake, were off introducing themselves, Colt smoking his pipe, the bikers around them pawing at his boy, before bending him over one of the hogs nearby and plugging him at both ends. Squeal…couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. Flake got so many good fucks, and as horny as Squeal was, he knew he was only ever going to get the leftovers–sometimes literally.
He’d been packing on weight ever since they’d left, and Colt had told him, while Squeal was eagerly eating out his crusty asshole one night, that by the time they got home, he was going to have Squeal so fat he’d be too big of a pig to ride ever again. As horrified as that made him, it also…fuck, thinking of being that big was making him horny, and hungry. He let off a long fart, and felt a little wetness in the back of his stinking, piss soaked underwear…and he knew he needed a fuck quick. A short distance away were a couple of fat, ugly pig bikers–but he bet they’d know how to treat him just right.
Bracken's Corner 