Page 73 of Misadventures of a Biker

She glanced at me and smiled. “Thank you.”

It seemed something had fallen apart during our dinner date. Short-tempered a little more than normal, less talkative, and lacking interest in sex, she’d gone to sleep without saying much more than good night after we returned to her home.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. You?”

I kissed her neck. “I did.”

She wedged my face between her shoulder and her jaw. “Stop it.”

“Stop kissing you?”

“Stop kissing my neck,” she said. “It drives me nuts.”

I pulled away and moved to the other side. I kissed her neck twice, hoping it would bring her out of the foul mood it seemed she’d slipped into.

“I’m going to burn the eggs,” she complained.

Her hair was fashioned into some kind of an “I’m in a hurry” bun. Errant strands of blond hair danced at either side of her face as she shuffled from side to side in an effort to escape my attack.

I considered slapping her on the ass but feared doing so wouldn’t be well received. Instead, I gave her side-armed hug. “I had a good time last night.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”

She removed the skillet from the stove and rushed to where she had two plates sitting. She slid eggs onto the plates and handed me one.

“Eat it before it gets cold.”

“Perfect timing,” I said.

“I started frying the eggs when I heard the shower turn off.”

I poured a cup of coffee and joined her at the table. “What’s your favorite type of egg?”

“Fried, over medium,” she said. “But I rarely eat them that way. Scrambled is the norm around here.”

“Why?”

“They’re healthier. Less fat.”

I gazed across the table at her as I nibbled my bacon. She was a remarkably beautiful woman. I couldn’t believe she found interest in me beyond sex. While she fidgeted with her eggs, I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra.

It wasn’t surprising, considering she was in the privacy of her home. For some reason, however, I was fascinated by it. Her boobs were small by today’s “often enhanced” standards but large for her small frame. Swaying from side to side as she cut her toast into bite-sized pieces, they were nothing short of amazing.

My cock began rising against my shorts. Surprised by my unsolicited state of arousal, I began to daydream about playing with Teddi’s boobs.

The next thing I knew, my cock was as stiff as a steel rod.

For most men, an erection in such a setting would have been an everyday occurrence. For me, it was a much more noteworthy accomplishment. For as long as I could recall, I needed aggressive sex to obtain an erection. At minimum, the knowledge of rough sex being on the horizon was required.

Yet.

I sat across from Teddi with a stiffy so significant, my head was swimming.

Wondering if the entire thing was nothing but a fluke, I diverted my attention to my food. Mindlessly, I nibbled my toast and ate my eggs, fully expecting the swelling to subside. Ten silent minutes later, my food was gone, and I was still as stiff as a pubescent teen in a strip club.

I glanced at Teddi. She’d eaten her food and was staring blankly at the center of the table. Sporting my embarrassingly rigid hard-on, I stood, grabbed our plates, and took them to the sink. After rinsing them and placing everything in the dishwasher, I was still as erect as if I were face fucking a willing participant who lacked a gag reflex.