4

Gigi

All of my girlfriends are excited to be the backpack of the bikers and my best friend Heather forces me to be a backpack of one of them. I refuse, laughing it off but the next moment I know that I am being dragged towards the bikers. I protest and try to break free, but Heather exclaims, “You always wanted to ride a bike. Let's do this now!”

While she may be right that I enjoy the thrill, my only current worry is the man's presence. He is one of the bikers, his gaze locked onto me. His face seems vaguely familiar, and I can't shake the suspicion that he might be the one responsible for my father's recent murder.

The majority of the girls are already seated behind the bikers on their heavy and superbikes. Only two of the bikers are standing without their backpacks. Heather quickly approaches the man wearing a balaclava, and I freeze in my spot, feeling a sudden hitch in my breath as I realize the biker in the balaclava is motioning for me to come over to him.

After he shoves Heather aside, she curses him and moves to sit behind another biker. I am rooted to the spot, my gaze meeting his, and a wave of danger washes over me. It feels like he is undressing me with his predatory stare, his bright blue eyes shining under the moonlight. He gestures at me with a curl of his finger, inviting me to join him for the ride, as the crowd starts to cheer for me.

Before I know it, I am walking towards him without being able to stop myself. My heart is pounding, and I can feel sweat forming on my forehead. As I get closer to him, I notice a smirk on his lips, even though they are covered by the black balaclava.

“My God, shawty. You are sweating already -” his deep hoarse voice reaches my ears and the insides of my vagina throbs, sending an electrifying sensation down there. As the other bikers start revving their engines, and with another signal from the mysterious man in front of me, I cautiously make my way towards him and settle onto the seat behind him.

I make a conscious effort not to touch him, but his intoxicating scent overwhelms me, sending me into a daze. He starts the bike, revving the engine, and each pulse quickens my heart. After putting on his helmet, he speaks to me in his deep voice, saying, "Hold on tight, honey. You don't want to fall." As my hands rest on his shoulders, I feel the strength of his muscles beneath my touch.

The race begins, and I find myself seated behind a strikingly attractive man on a bike. He gives off an aura of mystery and danger that both thrills and scares me. My heart is pounding with a mix of exhilaration and nerves as we pick up speed. I maintain a gap between us, making sure not to touch him as I experience this new and exciting adventure.

In the next instant, he revs the bike and suddenly hits the brakes, causing me to be pushed against him. My jacket zipper is open, and I am not wearing a bra, feeling my nipples brush against his back. He chuckles with a satisfied tone, saying, "Oh, those sharp little thangs of yours.

Anger simmers within me, it resonates with embarrassment when I quickly zip up my jacket, covering my boobs with the piece of fabric. I realize that the other bikers have made a U-turn, and our bike is heading in the wrong direction.

"Wait! This isn't the right way!" I protest, my hands gripping his shoulders tightly as fear grips me. As I struggle to make sense of the situation, he stops the bike and parks it in a corner. He removes his helmet, revealing the dark balaclava still covering his face. My heart pounds in my chest, feeling like it's about to burst from the intensity of the moment.

He gets off the bike and forcefully pulls me off, making me land on the ground. We are surrounded by darkness, standing on the edge of the forest near the old trees. The sound of chirping crickets and rustling leaves fills the air, sending shivers down my spine. I have never been this close to a forest, especially at night. The moonlight casts a glow on us, and my gaze is locked on this mysterious man.

The atmosphere crackles with tension as he pushes me against the trunk of the tree, his gaze locked on mine. He emits a low, guttural groan as he presses his body against mine. His cock pokes my stomach through his jeans and fear takes over me as anticipation covers my expressions.

As he holds me against the tree, our eyes meet, and I can't help but ask in a trembling voice, "Are you going to kill me?" He smirks and replies, "No, sugar. I'm here to capture your soul." With a gentle touch, he begins to unzip my jacket, the sound echoing in the night. My heart races with fear rather than desire, feeling a sense of dread wash over me.

As he lowers the zipper, his hand gently caresses my chest reaching to my left boob, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. My breath catches in my throat, and though I want to resist, I feel powerless to stop him. "Mmm, look at you, sugar. I bet you are wet for me as well," he groans, his fingers tracing circles around my areola, creating a sense of desire in me.

A moment of pause later, he begins, “Why don’t we check that?” his hand gently reaches into my pants, caressing me from above the fabric. With a swift moment, he unbuttons my jeans and slides his hand inside and I gasp unexpectedly. Once his cold fingers touch the warmness of my vagina, I feel all the senses in my body slowly leaving.

“Please, you must not!” I beg in a murmur and he whispers close to my ear, “Oh, but I shall.”