Warning ! Not Safe for Work (NSFW) Category of site.
This is 2nd part of 3 part story sequence, taken from my real life love story being posted in my eDiary (blog) at https://desimunda.wordpress.com
Visit the blog, and click on the TABLE OF CONTENTS on top right corner to read the complete love story in sequence from the beginning in chapter by chapter mode.
Your valuable suggestions, comments and feedback are warmly welcome. I love to interact with my readers. You may also like to use CONTACT form on the blog from the top menu items to communicate with me by sending me an email.
The Trick - Part 2 of 3
(Originally posted on my eDiary with illustrative images at https://desimunda.wordpress.com)
(Contd... from part 1)
I was very annoyed, and he was very desperate.
He probably sensed my unhappiness but I don’t know why he was behaving so weirdly and why all of a sudden he became so stubborn that he was not even listening to me. I wanted to leave him and his bike but his tight grip of me did not allow me to move. Slowly, he took his hands out of my shirt, but still holding me tightly and whispered, “Sorry!” in my ears, in a stretched, melodious tone. That “Sorry!” cooled-down my temper a little bit. Anyways, I was in his grip, not able to take independent actions as per my own will.
I re-started the bike and it would have been hardly a few moments gone when he released his grip after the bike caught speed and placed his hands on my thighs. Initially, stretching it to their full lengths up to my knees (a little before my knees actually) but then he started sliding them up slowly. Damn it ! This was an alarming situation as it (the area of my thighs close to my manhood) was the “restricted area” of “armed” forces (which are mostly loaded all the time) and no one except the “authorized” personnel (my own hand during my horny times) should have access to it. It was a sheer violation of my rights and privacy again. All the forces and hormones driving them were immediately sent a red-alert signal and they started acting upon the “emergency” situation. By the time his hands reached the end of my pocket (a little close to my crotch area), the “forces” and hormones had done their job very well. My tool was turned hard already and was fighting bravely with the undie that was trying to confine it with in its soft boundaries. No need to mention the heart which started racing extra-ordinarily was working hard to pump more of energy and the fluid to infiltrated areas and to raise the “boner” flag.
The commander-in-chief (brain) reacted to control the situation, and my left hand moved from the handle (of the bike) to stop his encroaching left hand. With lesser control on the handle and less attention on the road it started vibrating. Sensing the danger of inevitable accident, he himself controlled the situation and assured me that, “Stop worrying, and focus on the road. I am not doing anything now. I have to keep my hands somewhere for my safety. What else is the option if you are not allowing me to hold you in my arms?“
His words were meant to be a sort of assurance for me to not to worry and that he won’t bother me again, but actually it was not the case. A little later, when I resumed driving smoothly, he started again playing his dirty Tricks to take advantage of the situation. He was already sitting so close to me that his front upper half was touching my back. There were only our wet clothes separating our bodies. I could feel the rhythm of his breathing in and out on my back. Whenever there was a moment when I had to apply breaks, he got a chance to apply his un-wanted tricks on me. He used to lean over me “extra” high, or hug me or grab my thighs in his hand for a support. I know it was all his tricks, because I was not applying power-breaks. There was no reason for such acts on mild to moderately high breaks. Besides, there was another option to hold the tail of the bike for a support instead of holding me. His stupid acts were adding more of frustration and anger to my mind. I wished to drive wildly and throw him away in some Gutter or in any Garbage Container on sides of the road to teach him a lesson. But with his grip over me, that was not a feasible option. Finally, there was only one way left, i.e. to ride home safely and as soon as possible. I increased the speed without worrying about his hands which kept on moving on my thighs from time to time and grab me or my thighs intermittently. I wanted to end it ASAP.
On reaching the home, when I stopped the bike, he did not leave me. I almost shouted, “Now Fuck off ! Let me go.” It was loud enough inside a silent residential colony to be heard across the road at the mid night. Realizing my mistake, I sneaked around to see if someone noticed me using the slang, but thankfully, there was no one.
Hearing my words, he removed his hands from me and pulled them up in “Hands-up” pose and lowered his neck as if he has surrendered to me. I quickly got off his bike and ran upstairs to the room.
I had decided to “do or die”… I was determined to find the “Final” solution now… but was worried to take an action immediately as …you lose your brains and discretionary capabilities.. when you are angry.. which mostly leads to regrets later… so it was the best option for me to keep the distance and maintain the silence.
I was feeling helpless.. poor.. stuck and suffocating with him.
(Concluding part.. coming up shortly…! Stay tuned)