Softail Curves III (3 page)

“You. You’re funny,” he said calmly and coolly.

“Don’t make fun of me.
Fuck you,” I said. Dutch laughed softly again.

“There’s the Shauna I fell in love with.
There’s the girl that let Shelia do body shots off her. There’s the girl that got under that big biker’s skin. The girl that let me tie her up with her own nylons and fuck her in the ass. Quit pretending you’re some stuck up yuppie girl. You’re a biker, you’re a sexy, curvy biker bitch with an attitude and a taste for adventure. You’ll never be happy until you embrace that,” Dutch said. My anger flared in an attempt to mask the feelings those words brought on.

“You think you
’re all that. Like I’m just going to do whatever you think I should. Well, I’m not. I’m not your puppet, I’m not your pet. I don’t want to marry you. I don’t love you. I’m not who you think I am and stop telling me I am,” I said almost yelling as I finished. Dutch smirked. Fuck, why was this so funny?

“I never made you do anything.
You did it all. You might have been surprised or frightened, but you never protested. You did it all. You’re operating under the assumption that you did what I wanted. You didn’t. You did what you wanted. I just showed you the way. I know who you are. I saw it that first night when I found you waiting for some guy to come up and beg you to grant him permission to talk to you. I saw the light in your eyes, the fire,” Dutch said. I thought of Ashley and the contrast between him and Dutch was stark.

However,
Dutch wasn’t finished, “You’re letting all the bullshit get in the way of what you really want out of life. The other people and what they think, your own doubts and fears, the so-called norm. Well, fuck that. My dad lived the way everyone else wanted him to. He had dreams, but never lived them. He died before he could. I don’t want to die wondering what life might have been like if only I lived it on my terms. Do you?” he asked.

That hit me hard.
I remembered the night Dutch told me about his dad. His mom told him that she regretted waiting to enjoy life with his dad. I felt for her, though I’d yet to meet her, and now that story broke down my resistance. What was I doing? Did I want to be her someday, wondering what could have been? Still, I wasn’t quite ready to give in but my anger and pride were defeated. Fear was the only foe yet to be conquered.

“I don’t know what I want.
Sometimes you scare me, Dutch. You scared me when you told me you loved me,” I told him. It was a vague fear that I couldn’t quite pin down but it was there and it was intense.

“Shauna, everyone is scared.
I’m scared. I just don’t let it get the best of me. It’s motivation. Life is scary, Shauna. I promise, it’s really fucking scary. Either you face it head on or you curl up into a ball and die inside. But we can face it together. I can’t promise everything will work out but I can tell you that if you don’t give it a shot, you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering,” he said.

I bit my lip to stop from crying.
I wanted to go to him. I wanted to be in his arms. However, the doubts and fears tugged at me, a sea of what ifs that I couldn’t quite bring myself to cross. What if things didn’t work out? What if I got hurt? What if, what if, what if? As if Dutch could read my mind he said, “Shauna, what if this is the best thing that ever happens in our lives? What if you and I are meant to be?”

Dutch unzipped his jeans and fished out his cock.
It wasn’t hard, but still it was big, swollen and thick. He stared at me expectantly and waited slowly stroking himself. That wasn’t fair. However, that wasn’t what changed my mind. It was his words. The idea that I guess I hadn’t considered until right then. I worried about the downside of my choices without considering the upside. What if, Dutch and I were about to embark on a fairytale. What if marrying Dutch was destined to be the best thing that would happen to me? What if he was the love of my life, my soul mate?

I went to him and knelt between his legs.
Somehow, I knew what was coming and I wanted it. I smiled at Dutch as a tear ran down my cheek. He smiled softly at me but as I went to touch him he wagged his finger at me. I wondered for a moment why he was stopping me but then I got it as his eyes went to my body. I pulled my top off and then released my breasts from my bra. Then I wiggled out of my leggings and panties.

Dutch nodded and I took his cock in my hand.
God, I missed his cock. He was almost fully erect and I felt him swell at my touch. He looked at me, his blue eyes showing me the desire and love he felt. I moved to take him into my mouth but Dutch took my face in his hands and stopped me yet again. “Say it,” was all he said. I knew what he wanted. I sighed and pushed the fear aside and I saw what I really wanted beyond. I wanted Dutch. I wanted to be his wife, his girl. I always did.

“Yes, daddy.
I’ll be your old lady,” I said. I was scared but for the first time in weeks, I felt good. I felt like things were right again. I took his cock into my mouth and began to suck him slowly. I couldn’t imagine a better way to accept his proposal. I knew how this was going to end. I’d be left wanting and Dutch would likely leave me covered in his orgasm. Fitting since that’s how we started this whole ride.

Dutch brushed my hair back and watched as I pleasured him.
I missed his cock, the way it felt, the way it tasted and how I could please the biker with the sexy blue eyes with it. I fondled his balls as I took more and more of his length into my mouth, finally throating his hard shaft as a good biker bitch should. I never took my eyes from Dutch’s to let him know how much I enjoyed his cock. Dutch showed me how much he enjoyed the attention by leaking his delicious juices into my mouth.

Dutch suddenly pushed me away and pulled me up along with him as he stood.
He pushed me down onto my knees, I bent over the back of the sofa and Dutch stuffed his cock into me. The force of his thrust made me lurch forward onto the back of the sofa as his hands took my lush hips and he pulled my body to meet his insistent, hammering blows. He didn’t even bother to undress, his cock protruding from his jeans. I rushed towards climax, panting and moaning, and just as I was about to fly over the edge and into bliss, Dutch slapped my ass.

I turned and looked at him over my shoulder and he wagged his finger at me.
I knew it would be like this and I wanted it so badly. I wanted Dutch to take control, push me back in line and hold me there. I wanted him to leave me a hot, quivering mess of need while he got his rocks off, preferably all over my face. Dutch fucked me even harder and I bore down to resist my need. Resisting was so difficult but nothing worthwhile was ever easy.

“I’m so sorry, daddy.
I was so stupid, so naughty. Punish me,” I said, a tease and apology all rolled into one.

Dutch’s hand
spanked my ass again, hard and satisfying. He massaged my sexy, fat ass with his strong, calloused fingers for a moment and then he pulled from me and pushed me onto my back. Now he mounted me with one boot on the floor and the other on my sofa. I threw one of my legs over the back of the sofa and the other I laid on Dutch’s broad shoulder.

I pinched and twisted my nipples as Dutch fucked me as hard as he ever had.
I wanted to come so badly, it would have been so easy, but I denied myself the pleasure. Sometimes, I’d found, denial was at least as much fun as release. Dutch turned his head and began kissing my ankle. I turned my foot and he eagerly took my big toe into his mouth and sucked it as his cock impaled me. God, why did I ever want to leave this man?

I dared to reach between my legs and begin rubbing my clit.
Dutch stopped sucking my toe and looked down sternly. “I promise I won’t come, daddy. For as long as you want, I swear,” I told him and he smiled a wicked little smile and let me play as he went back to my foot, licking my instep this time. That made me giggle but as my fingers began to torment my hot, swollen nub, my laughter turned to squeals of delight.

Dutch abandoned my foot and threw my leg free of him.
He took a breast in each hand and his fingers sank into my fluffy tits. Dutch was on his way to the Promised Land and I brought myself dangerously close to orgasm knowing I wouldn’t get much else. I screamed out in divine frustration as I rode the knife’s edge. Then I felt Dutch swell within me. I was sure he’d come all over me but he didn’t. Dutch kept on thrusting and I screamed and stopped teasing my clit, unable to stand the torture any longer.

“You’re going to come inside me, aren’t
you? You fucking cheater!” I screeched as the need overwhelmed me. Dutch just laughed as he filled me with his orgasm, slippery and oh so warm. Dutch never lost his composure, staring at me the whole time as he slowly pumped me full of his seed. Damn, I wanted to have an orgasm but the thought of spending the next God knows how long horny and frustrated was pretty exciting.

Finally, Dutch held himself inside me, his c
ock pounding with his heartbeat. “You’re so stubborn, Shauna,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I freaked.
I know I...,” I began to apologize but Dutch interrupted.

“Not that, though that was pretty stubborn too.
I was going to let you come. But if you don’t want to, that’ll work too,” he said. I stared at him for a moment and then reached for my clit. Dutch was faster, however, and grabbed my hand. “No, no, you promised,” he said and lowered his hard body onto mine and kissed me. I savored his tongue as it slipped between my lips but only for a moment. I wiggled free and grabbed his face.

“I’d
be mad at you if I didn’t love you so much. I’m so foolish. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me and I almost ruined it. You do forgive me, don’t you?” I asked.

“Nothing to forgive.
That’s why I love you. You keep things interesting,” he said. I laughed.

“I’ll try to keep them just a smidge less interesting,” I told him.
Dutch smiled softly.

“I do love you.
I have from the moment I saw you. You’re everything to me. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just never want to lose you. I live hard and fast and I want you along for the ride but if you ever get scared, you let me know and we’ll slow things down,” Dutch said. I hugged him to me and pressed my cheek to his.

“I don’t want to slow down.
I promise, I’m past it now,” I whispered.

“You’re my girl, the only one I want.
You’re mine and I’m yours. I love you, Shauna. I love your wild side, I love the drama and I love your sexy Softail. You’re perfect just the way you are. Don’t you ever forget it. I wouldn’t have you any other way,” Dutch whispered back. I felt like I had emerged from a fog. This is what I wanted, I just lost myself for a while in the confusion brought on by fear, doubt and pride. I saw my destiny now and I embraced it. I squeezed Dutch. As long as I held on to him, I knew I couldn’t ever get lost again.

>>O<<

Dutch and I had a good talk once we finally got up. He spent the night as much because he wanted to as because it was almost three in the morning when we finally ran out of stuff to say. Dutch forced me to open up and tell him why I was so afraid. Part of it was the suddenness of his proposal but a lot of it was me. My past life was so different from the life I led with Dutch. The things I’d held to be true before still nagged at me.

We also talked about my weight.
It was an issue, even if it was just in my head. Dutch didn’t mind my curves, in fact, I knew he truly loved them. I was getting better but sometimes the noise in my head won and I felt fat, unattractive and couldn’t imagine why Dutch wanted me. Dutch promised he’d never let me forget how sexy he thought I was and reminded me that sexy was all about attitude. I assured him that if I felt that way, I’d tell him. After I told Dutch that part of it was his quiet manner, he promised to be more expressive and urged me to keep him in line.

I think I was past all the fear and doubt for the most part.
Not that I wouldn’t have bad days. Even Dutch told me he sometimes wondered if he was living right, if he wasn’t wasting his life. That helped. I didn’t want him to feel that way but it was helpful knowing I wasn’t alone. The whole experience, the break up, my misguided flight back to my old life and our reconciliation had taught me some valuable lessons and I felt like I was headed the right way again.

After
talking through my fears and doubts, we talked about the future. Dutch asked me to move in with him. At one point, I was a little freaked out by his unconventional living quarters above his motorcycle shop but again, it was my past life and experiences that told me that wasn’t acceptable. Honestly, it was really cool. I told him so but I admitted that someday I’d like to get a real house and Dutch told me someday he would too. After that, I eagerly agreed to move in.

“So, what about the wedding?”
I asked after everything else was settled. I wondered if he wanted a quickie wedding or if he cared.

“That’s up to you.
I want you to have the wedding you want, the wedding of your dreams. If that means I have to wear a tuxedo and hire a wedding band, I’m all for it,” Dutch told me and I didn’t miss the subtle shudder. I appreciated the offer but I couldn’t imagine forcing Dutch to do that. I didn’t want that kind of wedding anyway. That was what everyone expected. That’s what everyone did because it was the norm. How could I leave all that behind and then have a wedding like that?