Cruising the city streets on the bike late at night is the very best thing. After a day in the studio, the feel of the Honda CBR600 between my legs lets me just chill out, and think. I'm a sound engineer, and part of the time I tend to run the track I'm working on through my mind, thinking about the mix. I get some of my best ideas on those summer nights. The rest of the time I think about sex – and the fact that I always wear my horniest leathers for these night rides, helps.
Although I did have my usual heavy leather jacket on, along with the Fieldsheer boots and a studded belt, instead of the horsehide jeans I nearly always wear on the bike, I'd kept my stretch jeans on. I'd jumped into them after my shower when I'd got home, and for some reason what that skintight, stretchy denim had been doing to my cock had persuaded me to keep them on. The vibrations of the bike engine between my legs had, even more than it usually did, kept a large part of my attention on my cock. It was hard, and the jeans had been doing wonderful things to it since I'd left home. I was, in short, as horny as fuck.
The traffic lights at Kings Heath crossroads were just changing to red and, as I pulled to a stop, the church clock struck twenty-two minutes past midnight. Someone should fix it – it's been doing that for months. A little caravan was always parked by the loos there; the coffee was dreadful and the tea was worse, but halfway through a night ride it was just the thing.
I was thinking about a boy I'd had in my playroom last night. He'd come to be edged for two or three hours, but he'd turned out to be a cocky little bastard so I'd made him cum in the first five minutes, and then chucked him out. He'd struggled like fuck to stop me from milking him, and the look on his face when I'd made him lose it – just five minutes in – had been priceless. I'd never done that to a guy before, never even thought about it, but for some reason it had really turned me on. That had been on my mind all evening.
There was always some traffic, even at this time of night, but not much. The only other vehicle about was a dark blue car that pulled up alongside me. I was looking at the caravan, wondering whether to risk the coffee or the tea this time.
The window rolled down and then a voice came from the car. "Fuck me, mate, those jeans are tight."
People never said that sort of thing to me from cars. I looked around. It was the guy in the passenger seat who had spoken to me. The driver was looking over at me as well, and there was someone else in the back.
I dropped my eyes to the smooth, stretched denim clinging to my thigh and ran a finger along it. "Yeah, I love tight jeans – they get me as horny as fuck."
He looked at my bulging crotch. "I can see that." He chuckled. "You wanna be careful you don't cum in 'em. Looks like it wouldn't take much."
My cock got stiffer. It was taking over the conversation. I was already as hard as a rock 'cos I'd been thinking about the lad last night and it was getting worse by the second talking to this guy. He looked interesting in a rough sort of way. "Nah. Nothing and nobody can make me cum if I don't want to."
"Is that right?" He said. There were more chuckles – this time from the other two guys in the car. The first one was still looking at the thrusting bulge between my legs. "Oh, I don't think we'd have any problem making you cream those jeans, mate."
"You think so, do you?"
He grinned. "You wouldn't hold out for five minutes, boy."
"No?"
"No. Pull over after the lights."
Oh fuck, I thought, what do I do? There were three of them and this was not a good idea. Best thing to do: take off fast and go straight home.
But of course I didn't. I stopped the bike in a warehouse entrance up the street from the lights. The blue car pulled in behind me.
We sat there for a bit. What do I do? I killed the engine, took the keys out and dismounted. The passenger guy got out and opened the back door. He was wearing grey trackies and a hoodie; I couldn't see the other guy in the back.
I was nervous, but my cock was enthusiastic. I got into the back of the car. Hoodie got in behind me, sandwiching me between them, and closed the door.
"Get his arm, Col." Hoodie grabbed one and the second guy got the other.
"Right, you're gonna cum in those jeans, mate." said Hoodie.
"No chance."
They kind of giggled in a laddish sort of way, and the driver turned around in his seat to watch.
Then Hoodie was feeling my cock bulge. Col ran his hand over the inside of my right thigh.
Hoodie's fingers were exploring it, feeling the the shaft.
"You commando under those?" He could feel that I was.
I nodded.
"Gonna be fuckin' easy then."
When he got to the head I let out an involuntary gasp.
"Oh you like it there , don't ya…" His finger slid smoothly back and forth over the head. Then he gripped my cock through the stretchy denim and started to wank it.
Oh fuck that felt amazing! I'd never had my cock worked on through my jeans before and I knew I'd only got seconds if he carried on doing that. I wanted a lot more of this before I shot my load. So I struggled. I managed to get my right arm free from Col and snatched Hoodie's hand off my cock. Col immediately leaned over and grabbed my wrist back, pulling it out of the way and holding it there. Hoodie's fingers were on my bulge again. I jerked my left wrist out of Hoodie's grip, but he caught it. I struggled like fuck, and with all the scuffling trying to keep my cock out everybody's reach I slowly slid off the seat and landed in the footwell.
I was lying on my back, half curled up, still with my crash helmet on, and looking at two pairs of white trainers. I didn't have much time to admire the view though, because suddenly there were hands all over me, stroking my jacket, my legs – even the driver was reaching back and trying to join in, though the seat was getting in the way. Hoodie's hand was back on my cock, which was now pushing the stretch denim out obscenely. His fingers gripped it and resumed wanking it from where he'd left off.
I yanked a wrist free to remove Hoodie's hand again.
"Oh no you fuckin' don't…" Col grabbed both of my wrists before I could get to Hoodie, and held them out of the way – and a lot more securely this time. I struggled more.
Hoodie was still working on my cock and now he was teasing my balls at the same time. Oh shit, this was so fucking horny – I could feel myself getting dangerously close.
Somehow I managed to straighten my legs a bit and turn over so that I was facing almost downwards. Hoodie's hand slipped off my cock as I turned.
Immediately he knelt down with one knee, reaching underneath me. He felt around until his fingers found my hard cock again, and he went back to wanking it relentlessly through the thin jeans. I tried to kick but there wasn't space in the footwell. Unfortunately the turning over had pushed my cock a bit to one side. His fingers were on the head, and he pulled it away from my body, the stretchy jeans offering little resistance, and got a better grip.
No! Urgently, I turned back to get his hand off again, but this time he'd been ready, and he followed me. My knees slammed together, trapping his arm between them. I could feel myself losing it and there was fuck-all I could do to stop it. I struggled and fought to get my wrists free from Col who was holding them, but it was impossible – and I couldn't get away from Hoodie's fingers.
"Yeah, you got him." That was the driver. "Make the fucker shoot!"
With a yell I started to cum as Hoodie's fingers worked irresistibly on the head.
My cock jerked manically with every contraction as I came. Hoodie carried on milking me without slowing down, his fingers now sliding over the spunk-wet jeans, until he'd drained my balls and I'd collapsed back into the footwell.
I was panting. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, that was fucking amazing . Oh sh-i-i-i-i-t."
I closed my eyes inside the helmet and took deep breaths. I hadn't had an orgasm as good as that for a long time. The jeans couldn't absorb my spunk fast enough and I could feel it running down my thigh. My cock was still throbbing slowly, the head sliding on the inside of the slippery denim.
Hoodie sat back on the seat and wiped his fingers on my legs. All three guys were laughing at me. "Easy to make fuckin' bikers lose it, mate."
I looked up at the two on the rear seat. "You want me to make you cum?" Well, I thought, it's only polite to ask.
They glanced at each other, a bit embarrassed. "Nah, you're all right mate."
Hoodie got out of the car and held the door open. I pulled myself up and staggered out.
He looked at me, grinning at the still-spreading spunk patch at my crotch. Then he reached into his pocket and took out a felt-tip pen. He wrote a number on the back of my hand. "You ever wanna do that again mate, give us a bell."
I smiled. "I will." I looked at the other two as well. "And thanks for that, you lot."
Then I got onto the bike, fired it up and roared away.
* * *
I go round to Hoodie's place every week or so, when Col's there. I struggle and fight like fuck - but whether I'm wearing my leather jeans or the stretch denim ones, they make sure I never last more than five minutes.
But next time I will.