RIPP. Knock out one guy for being a douchebag, and the girl by your side decides you’re not suitable for her to continue any form of a relationship with, including casual sex. Knock out another douchebag in front of some random unknown girl, and she is so turned on she wants to fuck you almost immediately.

Trying to predict women’s likes, dislikes, desires, turn-ons or turn-offs was impossible. I decided I was just going to try and fuck them all, and the ones who agreed would be in for a nice little session of pierced cock heaven. Fuck trying to figure them all out. That would be impossible.

I’ll leave that up to Shane.

“If we knock this motherfucker over, I’m gonna be mad as hell,” naked, I stood and stared at her as she lay sprawled out over the back of my motorcycle.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t tip over,” she smiled.

“You’re gonna make sure? What do you weigh? A buck ten?” I asked dryly.

“Huh?” she asked as she nestled into place, her head draped onto the rear fender.

“What do you weigh?” I asked, not really caring to know the answer.

“Oh, a hundred and fifteen, why?” she smiled.

“Just wondering,” I really didn’t give two fucks what she weighed.

Her smile looked strange with her head halfway upside down. I felt like I was starting to get dizzy from breathing the motorcycle’s exhaust. I blinked my eyes a few times to clear the fumes from my drying out orbs. As her head shook back and forth on the fender, I looked the bike over - to make sure it seemed stable.

As long as I had been riding, I had never fucked anyone on a bike, running or not. After the fight, the waitress from the bar got onto the back of my bike for a quick ride. Almost instantly, she fell in love with the vibration of the Harley as we rode around downtown. After taking her back to the bar where she worked, she retrieved her car and I followed her home.

After a little persuasion on her part, I agreed to fuck her on my bike with the engine running; in her garage. She insisted the garage door be closed so the neighbors couldn’t see what we were doing. The small single car garage with a running bike in it was now full of exhaust fumes, two naked people, and a wad of clothes on the floor. She was lying on the bike with her feet on the floor, her back on the seat, and her head slung onto the back fender with her mouth hanging open.

“So are you dominant?” she asked.

“Are you fucking serious? Look at me,” I responded as I pointed my index fingers at my chest.

“I am looking at you,” she giggled over the sound of the exhaust as her head wobbled from the fender vibrating.

I really wasn’t in the mood for stupidity. I suppose if I picked up some immature waitress from the bar who is willing to fuck me just because I beat the shit out of a dude while she watched, I shouldn’t expect a biochemical engineer.

Naked, I stood behind the bike in my Chuck’s with my cock in my hand and my eyes watering. I looked at her, rolled my eyes, and started stroking it.

“No, I meant look at me as a person. My personality. My appearance. I’m two hundred fifty pounds of tattooed muscle,” I stroked my cock as I walked closer, “I knocked out a dude at the bar, remember? I am a boxer.”

“I knew it. I knew you were a Dom,” she blinked her eyes as stared at my cock.

Oh that’s what she meant.

A Dom.

Fucking women. I swear.

“Open your fucking mouth,” I demanded in my best impersonation of a Dom.

“It is…” she began.

I interrupted her half way through whatever she intended on saying by shoving my cock in her mouth. Standing behind the bike with my knees bent, I began to fuck the waitress’ mouth. I closed my eyes to relieve them of the burning from the exhaust. After four or five good strokes, I opened my eyes and looked down. Something about watching my cock sliding in and out of a woman’s mouth had always satisfied me.

Her eyes began to water, and her mascara ran from her eyes onto her forehead. I would like to think her eyes watering had been a result of my big cock in her mouth, but it may have very well been from the motorcycle’s exhaust. As I continued to punish her mouth, I reached forward and grabbed her neck in my hands.

She wants a Dom, I’ll give her one.

I’m not a Dom, and other than talking to a few friends who dabbled in it, I knew nothing about it. It seemed these days it was what every woman believed she wanted. Shane and I had talked about it and laughed, knowing Kace read a lot of books about dominance and submission. I had joked with him several times, saying Kace was going to require him to one day become her Dom.

Master Shane.

We both believed in the absence of these types of books, there would be far less women attempting to be submissive. It shocked me women couldn’t just be themselves. Additionally, the amount of men who delved into dominance, with little or no knowledge, had become huge. All based on an influx of ridiculous assed books.

“Swallow that cock,” I shouted as I forced myself into her throat as far as I could get it to go.

As I pushed it against the back of her throat, I squeezed her neck in my left hand. Something about dominance was becoming extremely satisfying. It was like fucking and fighting at the same time. As she began to gag on my cock, I realized I lost track of what I was doing and had been pushing my cock into her throat for several seconds.

Well, fuck she didn’t say anything, maybe she likes it.

I had no intention of hurting her, but I was really beginning to have fun. The bike vibrating caused her head to vibrate. This was something, short of the exhaust fumes, I could learn to love. Slowly, I pulled my cock from her throat and held it in my hand. As soon as it passed her lips, she gasped for a breath. As her chest heaved, for some reason, I slapped her face with my cock.

“You like that cock in your throat, don’t you?” I asked in a deep stern tone.

Hell if she likes it, I could do this all night.

“I fucking love it,” she gasped.

“You like it when I choke your submissive little throat, don’t you?” I snarled.

“I love it. Choke me harder,” her chest convulsed as she gasped for her next breath.

“Shut the fuck up, don’t tell me what to do,” I growled as I slapped her face with my cock again.

I had no idea where comment or the slapping of her face with my cock - especially as hard as I had hit her - came from. Actually, I was shocked I had done it at all. As soon as my cock bounced off of her cheek, she spoke.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry sir,” she blurted.

Oh yeah. I could really grow to like this.

A lot.

I wiped my burning eyes with the back of my left hand.

Gripping the base of the shaft in my hand, I raised my cock from her face twelve inches and slapped her as hard as I could with it. Almost immediately, a red cock shaped welt began to rise on her face. Although I hadn’t made it a point to look at other dudes cocks, I am not a stupid man. I know my cock is huge. I don’t know what it weighs, but swinging it into her face made me realize it was heavy. Hell, I wouldn’t want to be hit with it, and I’m a man - a tough man at that.

“Open,” I hollered.

Immediately, she opened her mouth. As soon as her lips parted, I forced myself into her throat until I hit an obstruction. Two-thirds of my cock was in her mouth. To be quite honest, she had more of my cock in her mouth than anyone else had ever achieved. Impressed with her determination, I held my cock in the same position as I squeezed her neck in my left hand. As her face began to clearly turn a fairly dark shade of red, I released my grasp and pulled myself from her mouth.

“Holy…”

“Fuck,” she said as she fought for her next breath, saliva running out of her mouth and along her cheeks.

Her head being upside down made the entire process of witnessing the fiasco a little bit more interesting. Now gasping for air, the saliva ran from her mouth and dripped around her eyes.

“You fucking love it, don’t you?” I bellowed.

“I do…” she coughed.

“I love it sir…” she paused and caught her breath.

“More,” she begged as she began to pinch her nipples in between her fingers and thumbs.

“Open,” I demanded.

I pressed my cock slowly and steadily into her mouth as I reached for her neck. As I began to squeeze her neck in my hand, I pushed my hips forward and held pressure against the obstruction inside her throat. I stared at the three remaining inches of my cock which weren’t in her throat and pressed a little harder. Naturally, I wanted to attempt to force it all inside of her, but the obstruction prevented it. In the same place, each time, my cock stopped short.

As I pressed my cock into her throat, I began to talk shit.

“Here in a minute, I’m going to just fuck you into a pile of worn out flesh, do you understand?” I asked gruffly.

I no more than finished speaking, and I felt her throat convulse, followed by an audible pop. The remaining three inches of my cock disappeared into her mouth. When it did, I felt my cock fill her throat with my left hand as I squeezed her neck. Holy fuck, this is cool. As my balls pressed against the space between her upper lip and nose, my watering eyes opened wide, and I smiled at my accomplishment.

Well, her accomplishment.

Our accomplishment.

My entire cock was in her throat. Every fucking inch of it. This was a first. I stared in awe of it all. After what may have been several seconds, I noticed she was blinking her eyes rapidly. Maybe it was some sort of a submissive sign to stop, hell I didn’t know. Reluctantly, I pulled my cock from her mouth.

She sat up and pressed her palms against her chest as she heaved for breath. As she gasped for air, she sounded like someone who had come up for a breath at the swimming pool after trying to swim all the way to the bottom, not knowing of the pressure at that depth. As her breathing began to become less labored, she lowered herself onto the motorcycle seat again.

“Holy fuck. That was hot,” she said as she lowered the back of her head onto the fender again.

Her head, now resting on the fender, shook as the motorcycle sat, still running. The exhaust note rumbled through the garage as she attempted to make herself comfortable.

Jesus H. Christ. She actually enjoyed it. Impossible. No one actually likes this shit.

Her face was covered in saliva and mascara. Hell, being dominant was as good as being in a fist fight - maybe better. I really wanted to fuck her, but I needed to see my cock disappear into her throat again before we moved on to anything else. As the motorcycle vibrated and the exhaust filled the garage, I wondered how breathing all of these fumes may affect us.

“Open your goddamned mouth again,” I growled as I held the base of my rock-hard cock in my right hand.

Her mouth didn’t immediately open, which I was certain by Dom standards, was breaking some sort of Dom law. Backlash would be necessary. With tears running down my cheeks from the exhaust fumes, I raised my cock a foot over her head and swung it like a bat.

Whack!

Her cheek was now covered with two red cock shaped marks. Promptly, she shook her upside down head from side to side to regain her wits. As soon as her head stopped moving and her eyes opened I cock-slapped her face again for good measure.

Whack!

“I should just beat you to death with this big fucker,” I shouted, “open that mouth of yours, slut.”

The slut word just kind of slipped out. I was so used to calling Liv a slut, it just escaped without thought. A heat of the moment mistake. I waited for her to complain, but the opposite happened.

“Oh God. I’m your little slut. Your filthy little slut. Just for you. Use me up,” she whined.

Not certain if she was done speaking or not, I shoved my cock into her mouth as she was saying Use me up. Before the word up actually came all the way out, my cock was on its way in. I bent my knees slightly, let go of my cock, and gripped her neck with both hands. As I squeezed her neck firmly in my hands, I pressed my hips toward her face.

Pop.

Oh fuck yes. All the way in.

Slowly, I pulled my cock free of her throat and out of her mouth. As soon as the head of it rested against her lips, I shoved it back into her mouth and down her throat.

Pop.

My balls pressed against the tip of her nose. As I squeezed her neck, I felt my cock in her throat. Holy fuck I like this. Dominance, or at least this particular type, was fucking great. I was beginning to fucking love it. I pulled my cock two-thirds the way out and immediately shoved it back in deep. I continued this over and over like a man possessed. The popping noise eventually diminished, and I was now fucking her throat like it was a wet pussy. Her face, covered in saliva and mascara, made her look like a B-Rate horror movie actress.

I blinked my eyes a few times and wiped the tears from my face. The exhaust fumes had become unbearable.

Holy fuck I wish I could open the garage door.

I looked down at her drool covered face with my cock buried deep in her mouth. Almost instantly, I came to the realization that I was in charge. I released her neck from my grasp, pulled my cock from her mouth, and quickly slapped her with it three times hard as I could.

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

Confused, she looked up at me, her face covered with cock shaped welts.

“I’m opening the God damned garage door, and letting some air in this motherfucker,” I coughed as I walked to the push-button pad on the wall beside the door leading into the house.

As she gasped for breath, I walked over, pressed the button, and rubbed my watering eyes. As the door slowly opened, a breeze rushed in. I inhaled the fresh air like a fish gulping floating food at the top of an aquarium. As the exhaust began to filter out of the garage, I walked over to the motorcycle and turned off the engine. When it stopped running, she turned and looked my direction as she sat up on the seat.

I raised my index finger in the air and waved it back and forth.

I’m dominant, bitch don’t question me.

Almost immediately, she lowered her head and shamefully looked down at the garage floor.

“Listen to me, you little slut. Stand up,” I demanded.

“But I’m naked and the door is open,” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Do I look fucking stupid? They might be overcome by exhaust fumes, but I have fucking eyes. I know you’re naked, I can see you. Get the fuck up and don’t make me ask again, you slut,” I snapped as I rubbed the tears from my eyes.

“What do you want me to…” she asked.

“I want you to God damned pay attention,” I coughed into my hand as I scowled her direction.

Standing in the garage stark naked, the wind felt good against my skin. I looked down at my Chuck’s and realized I hadn’t made it to the mall to get my new pair. As I raised my gaze to her, she was sitting on the motorcycle as if she were riding it, staring at the front of the garage.

“Do you have a pair of Chuck’s?” I asked.

“What?” she responded slowly.

“Do you have a pair of God damned Chuck’s?” the attempt to be dominant was thwarted by my laughter and a little coughing.

“Now you’ve got me choked up, God damn it. Do you have…” I tried to stop laughing.

“Yes, yes I do. I’m sorry sir, I didn’t fully understand you,” she responded.

“Well, go get them on,” I demanded.

“Is that all? Chuck’s?” she asked.

“Well, I didn’t tell you to get anything else, did I?” I howled.

“No sir,” she responded as she got off the motorcycle.

“Come here,” I shook my head in exaggerated frustration and rolled my eyes.

“Kneel,” I said as I pointed at my feet.

As if she did this type of thing on a daily basis, she gracefully walked in front of me, dropped to her knees, looked up into my eyes and blinked. I looked down at her face and shook my head.

“Open,” I muttered as I rolled my eyes and shook my cock in my hand.

Her mouth dropped open, and I immediately slapped her across the lips with the head of my cock. Saliva flew from her mouth across the garage floor. The instant she recovered from the cock-slap, I forced my length into her mouth and down her throat. As soon as my balls were against her chin, I pulled my cock from her mouth.

“I’m not even going to let you suck my cock. Get up, go get your shoes on, and get back out here. Understand?” I asked.

“Yes sir,” she responded as she stood.

She walked barefoot across the floor and up the steps into the house. Her tight little ass shook as she walked. I realized as the door closed I had no idea what her name was or how old she was. At this point in time I guess it didn’t matter. For now, she’d be my little fiery brunette. I had not been in a sexual role as a Dom nor had I been with a submissive female as a sexual partner - at least not that I was aware of.

As she stepped into the garage, my eyes immediately widened. Thin, great legs, nice perky tits, and completely naked - less the Chuck’s she was wearing, she was a huge fucking turn on. I turned and looked out the garage door into the driveway. Her car was parked in the driveway, close to the door. Although not completely, it partially blocked the view to the garage. The house faced east, and as it was afternoon, the sun wasn’t shining directly into the garage. As I turned to face her, she was standing directly in front of me - no doubt waiting for instructions.

I looked around the fairly empty garage for anything to make the experience a little better than just a typical sexual romp. I glanced at my fiery brunette and smiled. As if it were planned, I walked to the side of the motorcycle, stepped over it, and sat in the seat.

“Go get that duct tape off of the hook on the wall and come here,” I said as I pointed to the roll of tape hanging from the hook on the wall.

“The what?” she asked as she turned to face the wall.

“The tape. See that roll of grey tape on the wall?” I asked as I nodded toward the wall.

“Oh yeah. Duck tape,” she smiled.

I shook my head, “Yeah, the duck tape.”

“And what’s in the boxes over there?” I asked as I pointed to several boxes that were placed on a shelf over the hooks that hung on the wall.

“Uhhm. Well, holiday stuff. Christmas. Halloween…”

“What’s in the Halloween box?” I asked.

“Masks and decorations and stuff,” she responded as she pulled the duct tape from the hook on the wall.

“What kind of masks?” I gripped the handlebars of the bike, tilted my head toward the box, and stared curiously.

“Uhhm, I dunno. Let me see,” she said as she dropped the tape to the floor and pulled the box from the shelf.

Bent over, her hands pulled at the tape which sealed the top of the box. To me, it seemed natural to be in the garage naked. To any outsider who may happen upon us, I’m sure we’d look like a couple of freaks.

“Uhhm, a Richard Nixon mask, some plastic pumpkins, a Bill Clinton mask,” she paused and shuffled through the box.

“Uhhm a unicorn mask, and…” she said softly as she rummaged through the box.

“Unicorn mask?” I raised my eyebrows in wonder.

“Yep. Unicorn,” she said as she pulled the mask from the box.

A large rubber mask shaped like the head of a unicorn dangled from her clenched fist. I’d always wondered about the people who wore the furry suits and fucked each other. To me, they defined freakish behavior. Fucking a human sized furry rabbit or a dog would just be weird. As I thought of the furry suits, I began to doubt if I could stay hard while attempting to fuck a girl in a furry dog suit.

As I stared at the submissive Chuck wearing goofball, something about fucking someone in a mask kind began to appeal to me.

To me, the excitement would be more from not knowing who was under the mask than the mask itself. As I clearly knew who she was, it took away from some of the fun and excitement. Well, technically, I knew what she looked like. I still didn’t know her name or any specifics.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck someone in a mask. I just don’t know about fucking a Unicorn,” I shook my head and stared at her, uncertain if I wanted to attempt to fuck a horn wielding horse.

“Unicorns barf rainbows and poop gold dust. Well, they can poop rainbows or gold dust,” she said in a serious tone.

“They shit rainbows?” I asked dryly.

“Yep. Rainbows and gold dust,” she giggled.

“You know what they say, don’t you?” she asked as she lifted the mask over her shoulders.

“What’s that?” I shrugged.

“Always be yourself. Unless you can be a unicorn. Then always be a unicorn,” she laughed as she pulled the mask over her face.

“I don’t know if I can fuck a unicorn. But Bill Clinton will fuck anything - he proved it. Hand me the Bill Clinton mask, Bill will fuck a unicorn,” I laughed.

I did my best not to laugh as my submissive unicorn walked toward me with the rubber mask covering her face and neck as it resting on her shoulders. The twisted rubber horn rose from the forehead of the mask about two feet in the air in front of her as she approached.

“Hurs dah Brrl Clindon mfff,” her muffled voice barely escaped the mass of mystical rubber which hid her face.

I held the mask in front of me and stared at the distorted rubber face. It looked just like President Clinton, only rubber. I raised the mask to my head and chuckled, knowing I wasn’t the first person to wear a Bill Clinton mask and have a girl suck his cock. Certain there was a group of people somewhere with presidential fetishes, I stretched the mask over my head and stood up from the motorcycle seat.

I’ve always been as mean as any man could ever be. When the time came to throw down and fight, I was always the first in line. Hell, two nights prior, I beat the shit out of a gun-wielding car thief. Mike Ripton. Mean. Tough. A man with a purpose.

But this day was weird. Different. I stood in the garage of someone I didn’t know; stark naked with the exception of my Chuck’s, wearing a Bill Clinton Halloween mask. As I peered through the small eyes holes of my political disguise, the girl with no name wore a unicorn mask, naked from her Chuck’s up.

As she waited for me to shove her full of my presidential cock, I silently laughed. I often got myself into situations which were different than any other sane thirty year old male would be in. Ridiculous shit. A few weeks or a month later, when I thought of what had happened; I’d always ask myself, Ripp, what the fuck were you thinking?

The answer was always the same thing.

Sex.

Sex was my weakness. Sex was the common denominator in all of the misguided horseshit I got myself into. Fucking was a drug to me, and the submissive unicorn was beginning to become addictive.

“Bend over,” I demanded as I pointed toward the motorcycle seat.

She turned to face me and tilted her horn to the side. A muffled grunt came from her mask. Trying to hear while wearing a rubber presidential mask was nearly impossible. Speaking in a manner allowing someone else to hear was equally difficult.

“What?” I yelled.

“Huh?” she screamed back.

I couldn’t really have viewed it as disobeying a dominant command. My submissive unicorn was basically deaf. I reached out, grabbed her hand, and led her to the motorcycle. As I stood beside the motorcycle holding her hand, I had a revelation.

I stepped over the motorcycle and sat down on the seat. I held my left hand in the air and raised my index finger as I began stroking my now somewhat soft cock with my right hand. As I became hard, I slapped my thigh with my left hand and pointed to my lap. Her horn tilted to the side as if she were confused. The rubber eyes on either side of her head made me wonder how a unicorn could ever see anything.

I pulled her hand toward me and slapped my lap again. It became obvious she finally understood my desire when she stepped over the seat and rested her ass onto my thighs. Lightly grasping each of her wrists, I guided her hands to the handlebars. Her back now against my chest, I reached down and lifted the palms of my hands against her butt, raising her off of my lap a few inches.

As her ass hovered over my thighs, I raised my hips and guided myself into her wet pussy. Her initial reaction of rising up from my lap changed to a slow steady push against the tip of my cock. As my entire length slowly disappeared into her wet pussy, I placed my hands on her waist and my fingertips against her hip bones.

Her petite frame and light weight made it easy for me to move her around. Gripping the small of her waist, I raised and lowered her onto my cock more rapidly with each stroke. Within a few minutes, she was taking the entire length into her warm wet pussy. My pace was that of a jackhammer, slamming her ass into my thighs as I pressed down on her hips.

Her screams and shouts were muffled by the five pounds of rubber she had stretched over her face. Although she eventually took my entire cock into her pussy without complaint – at least none that I was able to hear, she was extremely tight. At the current pace I doubted I’d last a few minutes at best.

Not being able to speak during sex seemed odd to me, considering the fact I typically talked a mad line of shit while I was fucking. I looked down and watched my cock slide in and out of her pussy as I continued to slam her ass into my thighs.

Through the slits in my rubber mask, I peered at the hand controls of the motorcycle. I released one of her hips and flipped the ignition switch on. A green glow from the instruments confirmed the neutral position of the transmission. As I held her other hip in my hand, I pressed the start button and started the engine. The rumble and vibration of the motorcycle provided a different level of satisfaction. Her hands still on the controls, I rested my palm against the outside of her hand which was gripping the throttle, and twisted the engine to a loud roar a few times.

I squeezed her hip in my hand again and forced her down onto my cock completely. As her ass continued to bounce against my thighs, I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of her tight pussy around the girth of my cock. The pressure of her on my lap, her soaking wet pussy, the motorcycle vibrating and the exhaust rumbling proved to be far more than I was prepared for.

As I felt my cock began to swell, I raised my ass from the seat of the motorcycle and forced myself deeper into her. I felt her moans of pleasure vibrating through her lungs as my chest pressed against her back. As my fingers gripped into her waist, I knew this adventure was a matter of seconds from ending. I straightened my legs and pressed my hips into her butt, pushing her into a position of being bent over.

Now standing and straddling the motorcycle, I was forcing myself into her at a steady pace. I closed my eyes and focused on my hips pounding against her ass. Bent over with her hands steadied by the controls, she began to scream.

The muffled noise from within her mask became louder as my cock began to swell. As I felt myself begin to climax, I gripped her waist tightly, closed my eyes and groaned. As if she planned it, at the instant I exploded with pleasure inside of her, she revved the throttle of the motorcycle a few times. The sound of the exhaust echoing through the garage as I came provided me a different degree of pleasure.

Half overcome by exhaust fumes from earlier, the heat from wearing the presidential mask during sex and the fact I had just reached climax on a running motorcycle had me almost exhausted. I reached up and flipped the ignition switch to off. As the engine stopped running, I pulled the mask from my face and took a few unobstructed breaths of fresh air.

I gripped the back of her unicorn mask and after what seemed like a few minutes of struggle, pulled it from her head. Her hair a tangled wet mess and her face covered in sweat, she rotated her head and looked at me over her left shoulder.

“I like you. You’re fun,” she breathed.

I stepped over the motorcycle and stood beside it, staring at her naked body.

“You’re fun, too,” I sighed.

As she raised her leg over the motorcycle, I dropped the masks onto the floor beside where we stood. A quick look at my G-Shock revealed it was 3:50 pm. We had been fucking for two and a half hours. Holy shit. Shocked at the amount of time which had passed and the fact I was supposed to meet Vee for drinks after her work day was over, I came to the realization I needed to leave quickly.

“Are you going to be my Dom?” she asked cheerily.

Hell, I didn’t even know her name, and she wanted me to take charge of her, sexually.

“I believe so,” I stammered.

Other than the fact I knew I had some serious issues with saying no to sex, I had no idea why I responded the way I did. Nervously, I looked around the garage as if there was some form of answer sitting in the corner beside the holiday boxes.

“Awaiting your next instruction, sir,” she said as she curtsied.

I studied her for a long moment. Still in broad daylight, we both stood in her garage wearing nothing but our shoes. Naked and wondering just what this little nympho would be willing to do for me on my next visit, I dropped the bomb.

“I need to leave. I have an appointment I need to get to,” I murmured.

She stood in front of me and nodded her head.

“Alright. Well,” I paused as I reached for my shorts.

Hell, I still didn’t know her name or phone number.

The weight of my shorts reminded me my cell phone was in my pocket. It was common for me to have my phone in my pocket when I rode my motorcycle. I stepped into my shorts, buttoned them, and zipped the fly. I pulled my phone from my pocket and handed it to her.

“Put your name and number in there while I finish getting dressed,” I said firmly as I handed her the phone.

As she pressed her fingertips on the screen of my phone, I pulled my shirt over my head and re-tied my shoes. As I stood up and stepped to the edge of the motorcycle, she handed me the phone. A quick look at the screen, and I was in business.

Destiny Dawn. I rolled my eyes a little bit as I read the name. I dropped the phone into my pocket and got on the motorcycle. I flipped the ignition on and fired the engine.

“So, is Dawn your middle or last name?” I asked over the rumbling exhaust.

“Last,” she smiled.

“Well, Destiny Dawn, I have to get out of here. I’ll shoot you a text later, and include instructions on my wishes. Sound good?” I asked.

She nodded her head once sharply.

Motorcycles do not have a reverse gear. The transmission propels the bike in forward motion only. When a rider needs to back a motorcycle up, he uses his legs and pushes the motorcycle rearward until he is able to pull forward safely. As I had pulled into the garage facing forward, I needed to back the motorcycle out of the garage and pull forward in the driveway.

As I slowly backed the motorcycle up, I admired her petite body and perky tits. Standing naked, she bent down and picked up the unicorn mask. I watched in wonder as she pulled it over her head and waved goodbye.

I waved, shifted the bike into gear, released the clutch, and pulled out into the street. As I turned my head to face the house one last time, the garage door began to come down. I shook my head from side to side as the door obstructed the view of my submissive unicorn.

Always be yourself. Unless you can be a unicorn. Then always be a unicorn.

Truer words have never been spoken.