It was interesting to feel what I imagined everyone did while riding one of these things. The wind that rushed by your face, even with wearing a helmet, still felt like at any second it could tear me off the motorcycle and I'd be a goner. But that was the thrill of it, right? The way the wind whipped around my body as I clung so tightly to the one in front of me. It was exhilarating.
Wasn't that the thrill of the man in front of me too? Of the relationship I was hiding from my brothers. The way the muscles of his thighs felt beneath my fingers as I gripped onto him, reminded me too much of the way they looked when he was using a knee to spread my legs open. I dragged my hands up his thighs and to his abdomen, feeling the beautiful muscles there too.
"Yes, love?" Ketch' voice came through the speaker of my helmet, a little tinny from inside his own. There was a low chuckle behind it.
"Just repositioning a little." I lied. "How much longer til we get back to the bunker?"
"Just another five minutes or so. The traffic seems to be thinning out." Ketch said, his deep accented voice still carrying a hit of a chuckle.
"What?" I asked.
"Hm?" He mumbled.
"You're laughing at something." I accused.
"Am I?" He retorted sarcastically.
I smacked his stomach lightly. "Yes, you are. What's so funny?"
"Nothing, love. Just as eager as you are to get back to an empty bunker, it seems." There it was. The arrogance that made me roll my eyes. And the blunt ego that had driven me into his bed to begin with.
"Are you? Because you don't seem to be driving any faster." I leaned forward more, resting my head on his shoulder as much as possible.
Ketch chuckled again. "Don't be hasty. You were the one who said we'd have plenty of time for fun the next few days while your brothers were gone."
I had said that didn't mean I wanted to wait that long to start said fun. On the contrary. It had been his idea to go out and see a movie, and now it was all I could do not to ask him not to pull off at the nearest rest stop and do it in a stall. God knew it wouldn't have been the first time I'd done that with someone, embarrassing as it may be to admit. And with those thoughts now driving me wilder, I came up with my devilish plan to get things started before we even got to the bunker.
I moved my hands again, sliding them back down to his thighs. I started to trace the insides of them slowly as I dug my fingers in again. My thumbs traced circles against the seams of his pants.
"What are you thinking about, love?" Ketch asked through the mic, his voice having already dropped a little.
"Don't worry about it," I said as I dragged a hand over his crotch.
It was easy to feel how his legs tightened around the bike as I did it. "Wait, love." It was a demand. One I simply wasn't going to follow.
"I don't want to. Keep driving." I instructed as I graced my hand over him again.
He sped up, taking the motorcycle over the speed limit now. It made me smile, to know the effect I had on this man, just by simply touching him.
I could feel him getting harder with each pass of my hand until I was able to partially wrap my fingers around him through the slacks. I applied just enough pressure to each pass now to hear the hitch in his breath over the mic. It would be all too easy to keep him here the rest of the drive. We weren't that far now.
But I wanted more, wanted to push him further and further until he snapped. So I reached up and wiggled my fingers between the fastening of his belt and started to work it open.
"Someone is bound to look out a passenger window, love," Ketch said, his voice a whole octave lower now.
"Since when has that been a problem?" I said as I popped the belt, and then the button of his slacks open.
It was an awkward angle to try and pull the zipper down enough to get my fingers inside, but not enough to put a stop to what I had planned. I made quick work at the next red light to slip him free of his boxers before we started moving again. I kept his dick between my palm and his abdomen as I started to play with the head. I ran my thumb over the tip again and again, keeping it slow to avoid friction burn.
"Love…" The pet name came out as a moan across the mic.
"Keep your eyes on the road. I don't want to crash." I purred.
I kept up the slow pace, rolling and kneading the head of his dick between my fingers until precum came from it. I smeared the bead over my fingers and dragged my hand down his shaft.
"Fuck…" Ketch groaned out.
I smirked at the word. It was always beautiful to hear something seemingly so vulgar come from him. Especially since he usually spoke such 'proper English'. It had become far too easy for me to pull that out of him.
I continued to pump my hand up and down his length, making sure to switch up the pressure and speed every so often to keep him from the edge. The next time we came up to a light, Ketch switched on his turn signal and my hand stopped.
"Nuh-uh." I said, "We're almost there. You can wait a little longer."
"Damn wit…" His words caught in his throat as I started to work him again. But he started to drive towards the bunker again.
So I continued to play. Continued to edge him until the back road that led down to the bunker was in sight. Then I started to work fast. I started putting rhythmic, even pressure down each finger as I pumped up and down, making sure my thumb grazed over the tip with each stroke.
The motorcycle sped down the small, empty road faster than someone would usually take it and I laughed.
"In a hurry?" I asked with another long stroke.
My only response was another groan as I changed rhythms again. I kept him on that tight edge even as his fingers fumbled over the garage opener. Even as the bike wobbled a little as it slid into a more hidden spot next to Baby. And when we were stationary, with his feet planted on the ground to keep the bike stable, I kept the final rhythm. Massaging the head between my thumb and index finger until he was leaning back against me, a moaning mess of Latin and curses.
"Fuck…" It was a strained groan as one final pump of my hand did him in.
It would always be so satisfying to watch him become putty in my hands. To watch as he unraveled and fell apart just for me. Sure I would be the one to clean this off his bike later, but right now, I didn't care about that.
I was trying to come up with a sarcastic remark as I let go of him when I suddenly found myself with my back pressed against Baby's back door. His strong hands pressed against my shoulders and pinned me slightly to the car.
"Look what the fuck you've done to me." There was no helmet on his head anymore, and I could see exactly the effect I had won in his steel grey eyes.
I was smirking as I pulled the helmet from my head. "What about it?" I teased.
His lips crashed against mine, hot and needy. I found my fingers winding into his dark hair, pulling him closer. I needed this. Needed him more than I would ever admit to it. Wanted nothing more than to just do this for the rest of my life. And when it was just the two of us, it felt like that was a real possibility.
Ketch' hands dripped to my hips and pulled me firmly against him. God, he was already hard again. Talk about quick recharges. I slipped my hands behind me, fumbling with the door handle as his lips continued to ravish mine.
"Hang on…" I managed to get out.
I pushed back against his chest, just enough to make a gap big enough to pull the door to the back seat open. There were only a few seconds after that before my back hit the cool leather seat of my older brother's car. It was getting hard to think as he started to attack my neck and collarbone with teeth and tongue. Or as his hands dipped beneath my shirt and started to claw at my bra.
I pushed his riding jacket off his shoulders and almost regretted the few seconds it took him to remove it before his hands were back on me again. I ran my fingers through his hair again, pulling his head up and his lips back to mine. We paused again just long enough for me to discard my shirt and bra. I moaned his praise when his rough hands found and kneaded my breasts, and again when his mouth took to one of my nipples.
Ketch' hands fumbled with the button on my jeans as mine worked to unbutton his button-up shirt. My fingers roamed over him once the last button came undone, taking in every dip and rise of muscle in his back as his mouth switched from one nipple to the next. Then he was unceremoniously yanking my jeans and underwear down my hips.
"Now who's too eager." I teased.
Those molten grey eyes locked onto mine as he raised his head and pushed his slacks further down his legs. "You say that as if this wasn't your plan the entire ride here."
"Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't." I shrugged.
"Oh shut up." He growled, his lips taking mine again.
His dick slid against me, rubbing just enough against my clit to send bursts of pleasure up my spine. Again and again, until I knew neither of us would hold out on this game much longer, it would just be a matter of who gave in first and reached between us to fix it.
"Fuck it." I moaned against his lips.
I slid one hand from where it had been digging into his back and down to his cock. It was so hot as I took it in my hand and guided it to just where I needed him. He needed no other permission to glide into me then. There was nothing slow about it either, one rough thrust and he was to the hilt.
"Damn it, Ketch." I moaned out as he pulled back out.
"I love the way you say that." he groaned as his hips snapped forward again.
His name tumbled past my lips again and again as he finally picked a pace, something fast, rough, and needy. Like even he wanted nothing more than to force me into these old leather seats over and over again. It was dragging me closer and closer to the edge.
I had moaned his name once again when his hand slapped over my mouth and his hips stilled. I looked up at him, confused, but he wasn't looking at me.
"I hear someone coming," Ketch said in a hushed voice through the panting.
I listened then and found the sound of footsteps on the metal stairs that lead up to the garage. Ketch lowered himself closer to me just as the door from the bunker opened and someone walked in.
"Sam, are you out here?" Dean's voice echoed off the concrete walls.
"I thought you said they were already gone?" Ketch hissed into my ear.
"Now that I have a second to think about it. It is a little weird that Baby is still here." I hissed back.
"Sam I swear to god if you're playing some dumb prank on me…" Dean called into the garage again.
He hadn't walked any further into the room, and I was sure he couldn't see us. It would be one thing to have him catch me getting fucked in the backseat of his car. It wouldn't be the first time. The problem would be who I was fucking at this exact moment.
I opened my mouth to say something to Ketch about moving quietly out of the car when Dean sighed, said "He's gonna get payback for this…" and stepped back through the door, closing it behind him.
I could feel our hearts racing as we waited until his steps receded again. Then I looked up at Ketch, his grey eyes full of amusement.
"Well, that could've gone badly." He smirked at me.
I laughed lightly. "It really could have."
He smiled as I reached up and took his face in my hands, bringing him down to kiss again. This time it was lighter, softer. And when he picked up pace again, it didn't seem to be as needy and harsh as before. Still good, quick thrusts until I had no other thoughts other than him, but not pounding and deep as if it was the only thing to do on Earth.
It wasn't too long before we were at the edge again. Until there was nothing more to do than grab at each other and lift my hips to try and drive him deeper with each thrust. But it wasn't until his hand came between us and started to play with my clit that I finally gave into the ever-building pleasure. My nails dug hard into his back as bliss crashed over me. I could feel every thrust as I tightened around him. Then he was there too, and I could feel every pulse as he went over the edge.
"Fucking hell…" I panted out after the euphoria had drained away a bit. "Remind me to do that more often."
"Only if you want to keep almost getting caught by your brothers." Ketch chuckled, laying his head against my shoulder.