Motorcycle Misadventures

Author's Note: This was inspired by Family Guy. If you're wondering why there's another copy of this s tory floating around on the net from god knows how long ago, it was because I posted this on another account that I no longer use. However, I decided to reupload this story again on my more recent account—and decided to finish this story after all. This will be completed, unlike the previous story, and I wanted to post it on my Raziel the Selkie account rather than my other one because I don't want to be associated with that account. Nothing bad happened or anything, though I do have to say, my older writing embarrasses me. Some of this will be older writing, though the third chapter will be new material, I think. I got writer's block for the longest time on this story, but damn it, I'm going to become an original author one day and I ought to finish things! I decided to go back to my fanfiction roots and write stuff for fun and learn how to write longer pieces and whatnot. Well, there you have it. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

A flare of engines and deafening noise rumbled the ground with near apocalyptic intensity. Naomi's gloved hands tightly gripped the handles of her bike for support, the world streaming past in a phantasmal blur near dizzying in a whirl of vertigo. The only thing heard was the constant vibrations of sound waves from the motorcycle's relentless rumbling, where everything became a deafening bass pulsing in one ear and out the other. Ah, such sweet release this was, this beautiful ecstasy. There was something breathlessly exhilarating about biking, a liberating feeling greater than sex and money and power rolled into one. Naomi always experienced the rush every time she mounted her beloved bike and set the engines roaring in their infernal glory.

After a few moments of getting her adrenaline racing, heart throbbing with delirious excitement, Naomi heard a vaguely familiar voice call out to her. Pushing the brake, Naomi looked towards the direction the voice came from, only to gaze upon a leather-clad blond. Recognizing the individual as Mello, Naomi said, "Need a ride somewhere?"

"Not in particular," Mello said. "Just wanna hitch a ride to cruise around."

"All right, hop on. Don't think of it as a date or anything, though-I'm doing it because you're a friend of L. Besides, Raye happens to be a first-rate sniper."

"Same satiric wit as always, Naomi."

Straddling the bike, leather pants creaking with his movements, Naomi then drove off again once Mello perched himself in a secure position. A few moments into the ride, Mello began to fidget. Naomi didn't pay much mind to Mello's restless shifting on the seat behind her; not at first, anyway, though his constant fidgeting became suspiciously frequent. When Naomi paused at a stoplight, she noticed something peculiar. Rather, she felt something hard press frantically against the back of her jeans, which molded itself lovingly against her taut buttocks. Whipping her head around to glare at the leather-clad blond behind her, Naomi shouted, "Mello!"

"Shouldn't you keep your eyes on the road?" Mello said, maintaining a completely poker expression upon his normally mercurial features. Despite the awkward position both of them were currently in, Mello made no move to make Naomi more comfortable. He remained firmly planted on the leather seat, and Naomi swore the pressure hardened against the back of her pants even more. At this point, Naomi remained too irritated to be embarrassed, though red tinted her cheeks, all the same.

"What the hell!"

"It's the vibration."

"…"

"…"

A few moments silence, with nothing but the purring motorcycle and city ambience surrounding them. Naomi eventually set her gaze forward, willing the infernal red light to convert to green.

"Mello…"

"What?"

"Keep your arms below the chest."

Mello situated his arms lower, sliding them further than Naomi preferred, fingers laced together and forcing Naomi into some odd embrace that only shifted the increasingly stiffening protrusion directly into the seat of her pants.

"And above the waist."

"Not my fault your breasts are in the way."

Biting back a sarcastic response, Naomi forced her gaze ahead as the light finally turned green. Driving across the smooth-paved road, Naomi visibly relaxed from the awkward situation at the stoplight. Before she could enjoy five minutes of relaxation, however, she felt a gloved hand seeking purchase inside her pants. Even though Naomi probably should have, she didn't brake the motorcycle right there to give the bastard a serious case of whiplash. Glaring through a side-glance towards Mello, managing to keep the road ahead in her peripheral vision, Naomi grated a barely restrained tone through gritted teeth, "What are you trying to pull?!"

"I take this as a token of victory," Mello said, a lazy smirk sprawled across his lips while he spread his fingers out, stretching the fabric of lacy black panties.

"Raye gave those to me, you bastard!"

"I suppose he gave you the matching bra, too?"

"…?"

Indeed, Mello managed to swipe her bra as well…he probably took it while he was groping her at the stoplight. Narrowing her eyes further towards Mello, which only elicited another smirk from him, Mello then said, "I know I'm orgasmic and all, but you really should keep your eyes on the road."

A chill wind rose, and Naomi could feel her nipples stiffen against the fabric of her shirt, rubbing the material with overwhelming hypersensitivity that caused further stimulation. She fancied the cool air gliding itself across the contrasting contours of her body caused them to stiffen, not arousal from Mello's unusual seduction techniques. Just how he managed to remove both her underwear and bra without her noticing and still leaving her clothed remained a mystery she didn't care to fathom.

However, Mello proved to be very distracting. The aforementioned erection still remained pressed against her firm behind, nearly conforming into the cleft of her buttocks outlined by her tight jeans. Mello had shamelessly positioned himself in an extremely compromising position as well, pressing his legs against her and hunching over her. Finally, much to Naomi's horror, riding her motorcycle without underwear felt damn nice. The vibration sent pleasurable waves between her legs, making Naomi intimately aware of her growing arousal. Naomi tried to convince herself it was the motorcycle vibration that elicited a carnal satisfaction inside her, not Mello.

As Naomi digested these details, Mello leaned forward, allowing himself better access to her ample breasts. Gloved hands groped the rounded mounds filling out her form fitting shirt. His fingers teased the suggestive outlines of nipples protruding from the confining fabric, pressing them inwards with ghost-like pressure. After pressing inwards and outwards a couple of times, Mello pushed her breasts together, accentuating her already defined cleavage. Mello then methodically measured them in his hands, allowing their weight to rest upon his palms, before allowing them to drop down in place, seemingly hypnotized by this display. Breath hitched, Naomi's voice unconsciously took on a husky quality as she said, "Mello, I'm going to be engaged to Raye."

"That's never stopped me before with you."

"For Christ's sake, Mello, we're on a motorcycle!"

Instead of answering, Mello squeezed her breasts, clenching and unclenching as though they were stress toys. He then leaned forward and whispered. "Is that the vibration or am I just one sexy motherfucker?"

Despite Mello's repeated advice of keeping her eyes on the road, Naomi stared down at the now slickening junction between her legs. The crotch of her jeans contained an astonishing darkened spot. The vibration continued on with maddening intensity, causing involuntary tremors to course throughout Naomi's body, an action not unnoticed by Mello. A soft chuckle reached her ears, infuriating in its lazy arrogance. He continued fondling her, alternatively massaging them with unrestrained fervor and with an almost amorous gentleness. Naomi struggled to keep her foot pressed against the pedal, near delirious from unchained pleasure. Flushing, Naomi focused her gaze once more, skillfully dodging a potential accident with a red sports car before she lost control.

"Quite impressive," Mello noted. "Think you can re-enact that stunt in bed?"

"Mello, I can't drive with you being distracting."

"Let me drive, then. Keep your foot on the pedal-I'll tell you when to stop."

Before Naomi could even object to his outlandish proposition, Mello completely leaned over her, deliberately rubbing his hardened shaft against her behind as he did so, pressing himself against Naomi and making her intimately aware of his remarkable hard-on. Overlapping his hands over Naomi's, Mello performed smoother riding than Naomi expected.

"Stop here," Mello said after a while, to which Naomi gracefully braked with a fluid movement of her foot. A moderate sized apartment stood before them. After killing the power, Mello lingered a few moments longer, before peeling himself off. Naomi reluctantly got off the motorcycle, kicking the kickstand up.

"Give me my bra and underwear," Naomi said.

"Shouldn't you be worrying more about a shower?"

"I'd rather have them up front in case you decide to pilfer them."

Mello paused for a few moments, languidly rubbing the back of his neck, seemingly considering the idea. The prolonged time it took for Mello made Naomi think he wouldn't give back the precious articles of her clothing, before he produced Naomi's bra out from the front of his pants.

"All right, I'll give you your bra on good faith. However, I'll give you your underwear after you take a shower."

"You're bartering my underwear?"

"I'm giving you the bra. Just take that shower, or I might have to tell Raye I have proof he has good taste in underwear."

"I'm not sure I want it back after it came from a dubious area."

"You see any pockets on me? It was the only logical place to put them."

All said with a straight face. Naomi resisted the urge to roll her eyes and kick Mello's unmentionables to the stratosphere while swiping her confiscated panties, but having more decency than that, Naomi decided that showering came first on her list of priorities. Then she would hike her boot in Mello's crotch, before giving him a nice prostate massage with the barrel of her Glock 26 for good measure. The image held a tempting prospect to it, though Naomi, unfortunately, didn't have her Glock with her. As for making Mello a one-egger, Naomi put considerable debate into it, before deciding it wasn't worth the trouble. Besides, she didn't want to put her hand in his pants.

Stepping through the threshold into the modest apartment kept neat enough, though a few articles of clothing haphazardly sprawled across the couch and a few video games had been scattered across the floor, Naomi hesitated for a few moments as Mello stepped in beside her.

"Since you've made a fine mess of your jeans, I could offer you a pair of my pants," Mello stated casually, as though this was perfectly normal. "It would go with your leather jacket."

"…No thanks."

Without another word, Naomi then tread through the room, finding her way to the bathroom easily enough on the left side of the hallway, which was, surprisingly, tidier than the rest of the apartment. Closing the door and locking it, Naomi then slipped out of her pants first, examining the stain she made. She winced at the sizeable stain that soaked the crotch of her pants, before setting it aside and taking off her shirt, then her jacket. No need to strip her underwear, as Mello already took care of that.

Turning on the showerhead, Naomi waited a few moments for the water to heat up. Once condensed steam produced a dream-like haze, Naomi stepped in with subconscious elegance that belied her hardcore FBI reputation. Lathering water against her lightly muscled form, water pearl droplets decorated her body, enhancing her feminine splendor. Teasing trails caressed the swan-like arch of her neck, the graceful curve of her shoulders, the concavity of her stomach, the roundness of her hips, the tautness of her thighs, and the sleekness of her calves. Reaching out towards the shampoo bottle, Naomi raised a brow.

Chocolate shampoo? Naomi thought, before shrugging and figured it wouldn't hurt. Applying some within the palm of her hand, Naomi then generously applied it into the dark lush of her hair. Naomi reached out for the body wash, which was also chocolate. Amazed that chocolate body wash even existed (let alone chocolate shampoo), Naomi then lathered the curious solution across her body, massaging it into the skin. After allowing the water to rinse her body completely of the substance, Naomi then stepped out of the shower, shrouded in the fragrance of chocolate spreading throughout the steam-filled shower room in a similar manner of a genie's essence spewing forth from the confinement of his lamp.

Squeezing water droplets from her hair, Naomi stepped over to the cabinet where she assumed the towels were. When she opened the door, she found nothing there.