Fic: Motorcycle Lessons
“God, I love this bike,” Naya murmurs as she lifts her leg over the seat and bounces off, taking a step back to let her dad maneuver the Suzuki Marauder 800 into the garage under the house.
Her dad sits back on the cruiser and smiles proudly at her just as a voice comes from behind her: “Buy one,” it says, and Naya turns around to see Heather walking up with a smile on her face. She’s only wearing a blue bikini and a baseball cap, and Naya appreciates the view as the sun bounces off her skin and she comes closer. Heather bumps her hip softly and puts a hand inconspicuously on her back, under her tank top, and winks. Naya feels a familiar jump in her stomach, and she wonders if she could get away with a (French) kiss longer than 5 seconds with her dad watching... Instead, she settles for giving the blonde a quick, passionate smooch that nearly pushes the baseball cap off her head. Heather smiles when she pulls away, and twists the cap around.
“Seriously, you should buy one,” she repeats, and adds to Mr. Rivera, “Shouldn’t she?”
“Sure. If you love riding on the back so much, you should start taking lessons and get a bike. We’ll still have to see if you can handle it,” Mr. Rivera jokes, grinning pointedly at the height difference between him and his daughter.
“I totally could,” Naya replies.
“Motorcycles are so hot,” Heather utters. Naya glances at her incredulously and grins when she notices the faint blush: she obviously hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Her dad just smiles, though, and adjusts his motor jacket with a flourish.
“Wow, Heather, I didn’t know you were into older guys,” he purrs, and then laughs at Naya’s embarrassed expression. Luckily, a voice from behind her saves Heather from answering.
“Dad, we have to go! You said you’d only be gone for half an hour!” Mychal calls out, and Mr. Rivera nods. Mychal walks past the three of them, looks at Heather’s hand under the back of Naya’s shirt, and grins. Naya gives him a small shove.
“Go! Go to that game.”
“I gotta put the bike inside first,” her dad reminds her.
“We’ll do it,” Heather pipes up quickly, and Naya looks at her in surprise. There’s a certain quality to her grin that’s strangely familiar. Her dad doesn’t seem to notice, and asks:
“Do you know how?”
“Sure,” Heather replies, and her grin widens. “We’ll wash it too,” she adds.
“We will?” Naya asks, raising an eyebrow. She recognizes the look. Heather has something up her sleeve.
“Yes. It’s like 100 degrees out here. It’ll cool us down.”
“All right,” her dad says cheerfully, and turns off the motor. He hands Heather the key. “Just don’t get the seat wet,” he warns seriously before he lets go of the key. Heather nods just as intensely at the order.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your baby,” she replies. Naya smiles at her when she feels Heather’s fingers run a small circle on her back. Which baby? she thinks, and wishes her dad and brother would just go, so she can give Heather a proper hello.
“All right,” her dad says, and swings himself off the heavy motorcycle, setting it up on its standard. “See you girls later!” he calls, and he and Mychal get in their car and drive away.
Naya waves goodbye until they’re past the gate and she’s sure Mychal isn’t looking at them through the back window anymore, and then turns quickly to grab the back of Heather’s neck, pull her close and kiss her.
“Hello,” she murmurs with a smile when she pulls away and Heather is breathlessly surprised.
“I think I’m just going to walk around the block over and over, if that’s the greeting I get every time I come back,” Heather replies, and leans her forehead against Naya’s.
“When did you get here?” Naya asks, grabbing Heather’s hand and leading her to the front door.
“Twenty minutes ago. Mychal let me in. I was going to go swimming,” Heather says with a smile, gesturing at her attire, “but a quick carwash sounds like a lot more fun.”
“Mmm, maybe. There’ll be the sexy motorcycle, you in a bikini, getting all soaped up…”
“You in a bikini,” Heather corrects with a smile, and lets go of her hand before they go through the door. She moves it to Naya’s shirt instead, and pulls it up so quickly that Naya has no time to resist before she’s standing half-naked on the porch.
“Heather!” she yelps, and jumps behind the blonde to hide herself, looking around the huge garden and past the gate for any intruding eyes. Heather laughs.
“Come on, there’s no one here. Home alone, and I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the neighborhood is at that football game.”
“But if someone sees…” she murmurs. Heather steps aside and laughs when Naya follows her movement to crouch behind her.
“No one will,” she purrs, and pulls Naya close. Naya relaxes, and lets herself feel the thrill of Heather’s skin against her own, her muscles tensing as Heather chuckles, and her touch at the small of her back. “Nice bra, by the way,” Heather jokes, eyeing the black lace cheekily.
Naya wraps her arms around Heather’s waist, letting a finger trail along the edge of her bikini bottoms. “I knew you were coming over,” she replies as an explanation, smiling, and Heather subconsciously licks her lips.
“Go change before I strip you completely naked right here,” she growls, and pushes Naya away as though she’s honestly afraid she won’t be able to control herself. Naya pouts, but Heather laughs and throws her shirt at her. “Go!”
Naya glances around quickly once more, then quickly slips out of her shorts and throws both her shirt and shorts back to Heather, whose mouth has fallen open slightly at the sight of Naya standing in the doorway in just her unmentionables. Naya takes a step back, grinning invitingly, and then bounds away into the house when she sees Heather’s resolve for washing the motorcycle instead of kissing the brunette senseless start to waver.
“Hurry!” Naya hears Heather call behind her throatily as she scales the stairs. Naya smirks, but runs a little faster anyway. Two minutes later, she’s changed into her bikini and runs outside breathlessly to find Heather already soaping up the motorcycle. This time it’s her jaw that drops open at the sight, and she roams her eyes over Heather’s body.
The blonde leans over the hooded gas tank of the motorcycle and squeezes the sponge in her hand. Rivulets of soapy water run over the black metal and across her forearm, and Naya’s eyes follow a droplet as it runs down Heather’s flawless skin to her elbow as she brushes her hair away from her eyes. She inadvertently squeezes the sponge in the process, sending more rivulets of water flowing down her arm, and she smiles at them before bringing the sponge back down to the motorcycle. The reflection of the sun on the metal mixed with undulating water sends bright patterns of light playing over Heather’s face and body. Even the shadow under her baseball cap is not enough to block the way it lights up her features, and Naya lets out a small sigh at the sight, once again appreciating Heather’s beauty and her own luckiness at being able to call the blonde ‘hers’. Heather leans down again, reaching over to the other side of the motorcycle, and her bare stomach almost imperceptibly touches the hood. When she pulls away, there a small circle of moisture around her bellybutton, and a droplet trapped by the dip of her skin hangs precariously before it falls. Naya follows its courageous dive until it splatters on Heather’s knee, and then brings her eyes up along her legs, taking in the toned muscle, cream skin, and full ass with aroused appreciation. She lets out a shuddering breath that borders on a whimper and stands perplexed by the fact that she’s wet before they’ve even taken out the water hose.
Heather bends down once again to dip the empty sponge into the bucket at her feet. Her baseball cap slides off and falls into the water, and Naya chuckles. Heather turns her head at the sound, still bent over, and catches Naya’s heated expression with a knowing smile. She moves herself up slowly, curving her back and jutting out her butt, and grinning when Naya can’t help but look.
“God, Heather,” Naya sighs, and takes a few steps closer. Heather straightens out, and struts with her sponge to the other side of the motorcycle, running it across the metal seductively and keeping her eyes locked with Naya’s. When she gets to the other side of the motorcycle, she rests her elbows on the seat and leans on it, pressing her breasts together to show off her cleavage, and wiggles her butt again. Naya lets out a shuddering chuckle at the display, and closes the remaining distance between them. She rests one hand on the leather of the seat, and travels her eyes over Heather’s smiling face.
“This whole ‘washing the motorcycle’-thing? Best. Idea. Ever,” she mutters. She tiptoes her fingers from the motorcycle seat to Heather’s elbow, runs her hand up her bicep, and winds her fingers in Heather’s hair at the back of her neck. The blonde tilts up her face to let Naya press a passionate kiss to her lips, and responds with ardor.
Soon, Naya is pressing herself up against the motorcycle and reaching over the leather for Heather’s body, running one hand through her hair and the other over her bare back. Heather is responding the same, all reaching hands and eager tongue, and a few minutes later they’re both panting in frustration at the distance between them, but neither of them want to stop the kiss to move around the motorcycle - especially when Heather’s hand finds its way under Naya’s bikini and cups her breast. Naya whimpers and moves her body even more forward so that she’s leaning over the motorcycle with only one foot on the ground. Heather moves her hand and laces her fingers behind Naya’s back, and suddenly Naya’s feet lift off the ground as Heather pulls her over the leather seat. The motorcycle moves a fraction of an inch as Naya’s body slides over it, but then her feet touch the ground and Heather pins her against the cruiser. Naya sighs in relief when she feels Heather’s moist body slide against her. This is the way things should always be when they’re in their bikinis; skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands across ready bodies.
A few minutes later, and Heather is pushing against her so insistently that the motorcycle groans in protest and almost begins to tip. They both jump away at the movement, and sigh in relief when the motorcycle stabilizes.
“Maybe we should make out somewhere else,” Naya suggests reluctantly.
“But motorcycles are so hot…” Heather murmurs again, and twitches her hips suggestively to push Naya against the cruiser again. Naya resists, and pulls away from Heather with a small pout.
“Come on. Let’s finish washing it. Then we can make out all we want,” Naya suggests, and pulls Heather close so their hips are touching and she can twirl a strap of her bikini bottoms in her fingers (So tempting to pull…). Heather smiles and sits down on her haunches to pick up the sponge.
Before Naya notices her smirk, Heather presses the sponge on her chest and squeezes. Naya squeals and jumps away from her. Soap drips into her bikini and across her stomach, and Heather doubles over with laughter at Naya’s appalled expression. Naya narrows her eyes playfully and says, “You are so getting it.”
“Bring it on,” Heather challenges, and ambles closer confidently. Naya just smiles and lets the blonde kiss her again, but after a few seconds, when Heather presses her tongue forward to deepen the kiss, Naya slyly steals the sponge, pulls away, and throws it at Heather’s head. It bounces off her face and hits the ground with a small, satisfied ‘plop’. Heather scrunches up her face, one eye shut and wrinkling in distaste.
“Not my favorite kiss,” she says simply, and reaches down to pick up it up.
Naya laughs and runs. She weaves her way through the garden with Heather behind her until she’s panting a little. Heather gets caught behind for a second, and Naya takes the opportunity; she lunges for the hose, turns it to full power, and when Heather rounds the corner of the house, sprays her body up and down.
“Aah! It’s cold!” Heather shrieks. She drops the sponge and grapples the hose in Naya’s hand. A few seconds of struggle later, they’re both soaked and dripping wet, and they laugh at the futility of struggling any more.
“Come on. Seriously,” Heather says, and Naya relents and lets go. She catches Heather’s smirk in time and pulls the blonde’s body tightly against her to avoid getting sprayed. “Mmm, neat trick,” Heather murmurs appreciatively, and runs a hand down Naya’s back. Naya shivers, and she knows it’s not the cold. She pulls Heather a little closer, and the dancer melts and drops her weapon to her side to let herself feel Naya’s mapping hands on her back. She sighs when Naya kisses her neck and collarbone, and whispers, “Let’s finish washing. I don’t know how much longer I can wait to feel inside me.”
Naya’s stomach tightens at the words, and she drags her lips a little more insistently over Heather’s skin, flicking her tongue out across her neck and lapping up the cold water. But Heather pulls away and grabs Naya’s hand, and Naya relents again to let her pull her to the motorcycle. They set to work… but it’s anything but laborious when every chance she gets, Heather slides a hand over her stomach, past her leg, or just under the edge of her bikini bottoms. Every time she does, Naya speeds up with washing the motorcycle until she’s working so frantically that she’s panting. She wonders it it’s really from the work, or from the fact that Heather’s currently running circles with her fingers on the skin of her neck…
“Done!” she finally shouts triumphantly, throws down the dirty sponge, stands up, and grabs Heather’s hand in a vicegrip to drag her to the towels she’d laid out on the grass. There’s a desperation in her movements that Heather picks up on in no time, and Naya sighs in aroused relief when Heather nearly tackles her to the ground and pins her to the towel.
“Finally,” Naya sighs, and tilts her head to give Heather better access as she kisses her way across her neck. Heather rubs herself across her body, slick skin on skin, as she moves her kisses lower. Her hands grip Naya’s waist and she slides them down; Naya arches her back to Heather’s lips when she dips her tongue into her bellybutton. A few minutes later, and Naya’s sure there isn’t an inch of her that Heather hasn’t kissed, so she pulls on the blonde’s shoulder to bring back her lips, and tightens her arms around her neck to deepen the kiss she pulls her into. Heather’s tongue slides over the edge of her lips, teasing its way into her open mouth, but doesn’t quite enter. Naya pushes herself upward, but Heather just pulls away with a small smirk and continues to tease.
With a grunt, Naya rolls them both over and captures Heather’s lips more passionately. The blonde lets out a surprised whimper, and Naya flicks her tongue into her mouth until Heather has no option but to chase her tongue as well. Naya tastes Heather against her lips, bubblegum and tangerines, and sighs at the familiar tang. She kisses her until Heather loses her breath, and until she finds the taste of herself on Heather’s lips.
Minutes pass, and Heather sighs into the kiss and lets her lips go loose and lazy until Naya pulls away and strays her eyes over Heather’s flushed face. She has her eyes closed contentedly, her breath is coming in short, slowing gasps, and her lips are beautifully rosy. Naya smiles at the sight, and nuzzles her neck, some of the need and desire of the moment replaced by pleasurable satisfaction.
Heather turns her head, and Naya feels the vibrations of the sound against her lips when she says absent-mindedly, “You should learn to drive a motorcycle.”
“Mmmm,” Naya hums contentedly, placing a kiss on her neck. “And when would I have the time?”
“I can teach you.”
Naya lifts her head and catches Heather’s eye. “You know how to ride a motorcycle?”
“Yeah. Sort of. I was going to get my license and a bike before I came to LA, but rent was a little steeper than I thought, so I thought I’d wait with it.”
“But you actually rode one before?” Naya asks incredulously.
“Yeah,” Heather replies with a smile.
The image of Heather cruising down the highway on a motorcycle (in her bikini, of course), her hair flying and a proud smile on her face is enough to make Naya let out an enthusiastic sound somewhere between a grunt and a sigh. “That’s so hot,” she whispers; the ‘t’s are soft puffs of air against Heather’s lips. She kisses her again, more ardently.
“I can show you the basics right now,” Heather murmurs around the kiss.
“Yeah?”
“Sure. Let’s go,” Heather responds, and twitches her hips to dislodge Naya. Naya stays and lets the movement fuel her need.
“Our bikini’s have to dry first,” she reminds her.
“Oh right. Can’t get the seat wet,” Heather replies with a grin. Naya matches her smile and kisses the corner of her mouth, her jaw, her neck. She follows the path of her bikini strap to her breast, and kisses as close to the untanned skin as the fabric will allow. Heather sighs beneath her, tangles a hand in her hair, and twitches her hips. Naya copies the movement, and grinds down against her. Her knee presses on the fabric of Heather’s bikini between her legs, and she lets out a gasp.
“Naya…” she groans when Naya grinds down against her again.
“Mmm?” She sucks on Heather’s neck, feels her rapid pulse beating between her lips.
Heather whimpers again, but gently pushes Naya away before she has the chance to push down onto her again. Naya looks up in amused surprise that Heather can resist her charms, and Heather takes a steadying breath to utter: “Babe… This won’t really help dry our bikinis.”
Naya’s smile turns into a smirk, and she laughs at the truth in Heather’s words. She plants one last kiss on her lips and then rolls off of her reluctantly.
She grabs her hand instead, lacing their fingers together and tracing patterns on the inside of her palm with her thumb. Heather nudges her shoulder almost apologetically, and snuggles closer to her body. Her foot bumps Naya’s ankle, and the brunette smiles.
So they lay as they are, soaking up the sun and each other’s company. Heather lifts Naya’s hand and blocks the sun with their entwined fingers, smiling at the shapes in the clouds. Naya kisses her shoulder and it’s familiar and easy, so Heather laughs and catches her mouth in a quick kiss when she repeats it. It’s tempting to keep kissing, but the motorcycle is much more attractive at the moment, so Naya pulls back from the kiss to let her bikini dry and not get into even more counterproductive (however pleasurable) activities.
The sun beats on their bodies, and they talk for a while. In a few minutes of silence, Naya sighs as she feels a lazy doze coming on, spurred on by the languid comfort of the summer feeling, and rolls over to lay her head on Heather’s shoulder. She drapes her arm over her stomach and presses the flat of her hand against her abs, her pinky casting a shadow over her bellybutton. Heather giggles at the touch, and Naya smiles, rubbing her hand back and forth across her skin and dipping her pinky into her bellybutton playfully. A few seconds pass, but the doze has passed, and Naya continues to play her fingers on Heather’s abs, strumming out an imagined symphony on her skin and pretending she doesn’t feel Heather’s body tense at the touch. Still, she knows that however much they pretend otherwise, enjoying the sun and quiet, both their bodies are still humming from before, tensed and ready for more at the lightest touch. Naya slides her hand a fraction lower, and Heather stops breathing for a second. She dips her fingers under the edge of her bikini, perfectly aware of what she’s doing and the way Heather’s body will undoubtedly respond, but screw it, because this ‘wait till our bikinis dry’ thing is just taking way too -
“Wait, you’re not wet anymore!” Naya utters suddenly, propping herself up. Heather opens her eyes and she relaxes her muscles, which had been tensed in anticipation of Naya’s touch.
“Trust me, I am,” she purrs, her voice low with need, and Naya laughs.
“I meant your bikini.”
“Oh.” Heather bites her lip sheepishly. “Right.”
Naya jumps up and offers Heather her hand. “Teach me how to ride a motorcycle.”
“Okay,” Heather replies cheerfully, and leads them to the parked cruiser. “Well, first of all, this bike is like 500 pounds.” Naya laughs, and Heather raises an eyebrow. “I’m not kidding. It’s heavy.”
“Oh,” Naya replies, and grins awkwardly.
Heather swings her leg over the motorcycle, settling herself on the seat. She puts in the key and turns it in the lock. A light comes on, but Naya is surprised that nothing else happens. She raises an eyebrow when Heather beckons for her to come closer.
“Hop on,” she says with a smile, and scoots back to make space in front of her.
“Will it hold both of us?” Naya asks worriedly.
“It’s 500 pounds. Of course it will,” Heather jokes. “You rode with your dad too, didn’t you?”
“Oh, right…” Naya replies, and steps closer before she can embarrass herself any more. I’m so out of my league with this, she thinks, but gets on the bike anyway. Heather scoots close against her from behind, and Naya can’t help but lose track of what she was thinking.
“Put your hands on the handles,” Heather commands, and Naya does. Heather reaches around her and covers her hands with her own. She squeezes the left one, touching the metal bar next to it.
“This is the clutch,” she explains, and squeezes it. “It’s just like with a stick shift; can’t change gears without it.” She leans to the left on the motorcycle, and Naya follows her gaze. Her bare foot rests on a foot peg, and she touches the peg in front of it. “This is one changes gears. Normally you really shouldn’t do this barefoot, but we won’t go past first gear, so it’s not that big of a deal.” Heather looks at Naya for understanding, but the brunette is focused on the explanation. “The lowest gear is one. Above that is neutral, which we need to start the motorcycle. Then there’s two, three, four, et cetera, above that. Okay?”
Naya nods nervously.
“So try it. Step on it and see what gear we’re in,” Heather instructs. Naya looks at her briefly, but the blonde is smiling at her encouragingly and Naya relaxes. We haven’t even revved up the engine, for God’s sake, she chastises herself, and sits up straighter to follow Heather’s instruction. She presses down on the peg, but it doesn’t move.
“One?” she asks.
“Good. Now bring us to neutral. Kick up half a step.”
Naya follows the instruction. It’s a little difficult with bare feet, but the peg moves up with a click. She looks for Heather for confirmation that she did it right, and Heather nods.
“Now we’re going to start up the engine,” she says, and Naya’s heart jumps into her throat. Heather catches the worried look and smiles at her comfortingly. “Hey, don’t worry. I promised your dad I wouldn’t let anything happen to his baby.” She leans over Naya’s shoulder and quickly catches her lips in a soothing kiss. After a second, Heather pulls away and murmurs cheekily, “Flip the red button.”
“Isn’t that on the list of most epic last words?” Naya squeaks.
“No, that’s ‘I wonder what this button is for,’” Heather replies with a smile, and guides Naya’s thumb to the button next to the accelerator. “Come on, live a little,” she murmurs against Naya’s neck, and twitches her hips against her almost undetectably. Naya’s heartbeat speeds up, and she flips the switch. Instantly, the motorcycle revs up beneath them, and she jumps at the pleasurable sensations the vibration sends through her. Heather looks at her knowingly and brings one of her hands to Naya’s thigh.
“Having fun yet?” she asks boldly, and runs her hand higher up Naya’s thigh. Naya grins back and presses herself backward a little.
“Mmmhmm…” she mumbles and brushes her cheek past Heather’s. Heather smiles at her, but shifts her glance and squeezes Naya’s right hand.
“This is the accelerator. You pull it back to go, basically,” she explains. “So that’s what we’re going to do. You engage the clutch, kick down to first gear, and twist the accelerator. Yeah?”
“Where’s the break?” Naya squeaks uncertainly, her nerves returning despite the comfort of Heather’s heated body against her back and instructions leaving moisture next to her ear.
“Oh, right,” Heather chuckles. Naya feels the vibrations of the laugh against her back, adding to the already shuddering motorcycle, and shivers agreeably. Heather nudges her right leg, and indicates another foot peg. “It’s here.”
“Okay.”
“So, what are you going to do now?”
Naya frowns in concentration. “Engage the clutch, kick down to first gear, accelerate.”
“Good. Go ahead. Slowly,” Heather says with a proud smile. “Oh, wait.” She tilts the motorcycle and kicks away the standard. “Home free now,” she jokes.
Naya takes a quick breath as Heather repositions herself behind her. She nudges her left hand, and Naya squeezes the clutch. She kicks down to first gear, and holds her breath.
“Now, let go of the clutch, and accelerate,” Heather instructs. Naya prepares herself. “Just don’t let go too quickly or we’ll - ”
Naya hears it too late. The motorcycle chuckles to a silence that settles around them.
“ - stall,” Heather finishes with a smile.
“Oops.” Naya grins wryly. She feels the vibration of Heather’s laugh on her back.
“Let’s try again. I’ll help,” Heather says, and she does. She revs up the engine again, and Naya focuses. Clutch, kick down, slow release, accelerate… Heather covers her hands and guides her movements, pressing up against her when she does it right, and then the motorcycle moves forward.
“Ohmigod!” Naya squeals, and Heather laughs again. She accelerates a little more, and guides Naya’s hands to steer them out of the driveway. The gate opens automatically, and then they’re out into the neighborhood.
“Speed up a bit,” Heather whispers in her ear, and Naya nearly falls off the bike at how sexed-up her voice sounds. She turns the accelerator and the bike revs up quickly, sending her body back against Heather at the change in speed. Her shriek dies in her throat because Heather squeezes her hand comfortingly. “I got you,” she says on the skin at her neck, and Naya smiles.
Buoyed by Heather’s reassuring promise, Naya lets herself enjoy the ride. The wind whips at her face as the sun beats down on them. She feels the purring of the motorcycle beneath her, and the heat of the engine is nearly overpowered by the heat of Heather’s body against her, skin against skin on her back, her arms, her legs. She feels lips at the back of her neck, and suddenly Heather’s hands are off the handlebars and run along the skin of her bare stomach. Her throat catches and she nearly loses grip of the handlebars, but Heather stills her movements and waits with bated breath; the motorcycle stays its course and Naya smiles. This is awesome.
“Let’s go back,” Heather purrs into her ear a few minutes later, and her fingers dig into Naya’s hips insistently, her nails tracing trails of fire over her heated skin. Naya swallows pronouncedly and guides the motorcycle around the block and back through the gate of her house. It clicks shut behind them, and she presses down on the break slowly.
The motorcycle comes to a halt, and Naya lets out an excited breath. She presses up against Heather as the blonde wraps her arms around her waist and breathes hotly against her neck.
“That was so much fun,” she exclaims. Heather nods against her shoulder, runs her hands more insistently over her stomach, and sets the motorcycle on its standard.
“We went really fast, didn’t we?” Naya asks as she clicks the motorcycle into neutral.
“Mmhmm,” Heather agrees half-heartedly, and twitches her hips against her. Naya’s sure she was about to say something, but suddenly Heather’s lips are on her neck, nipping, teasing, and sucking lightly, and she forgets what it was. She lets out a shuddering breath, and rests her weight against Heather.
“Heather,” she breathes out, and runs her fingers over Heather’s arms around her waist.
Heather shifts her weight and pulls her even closer. Naya tips her neck to give Heather better access as she brings a purple hickey to life, and her breath condenses on her neck as she breathes out, “You are so sexy.”
“Oh yeah?” Naya manages to joke, but her breath catches and her stomach tightens at the words.
“You and a motorcycle. Just… So sexy.” Heather flicks her tongue out against her earlobe. “I want you,” she purrs throatily.
Naya lets out a shuddering sigh and tilts her head to capture Heather’s roaming mouth in a kiss over her shoulder. She twines her fingers in Heather’s hair and pulls her closer, deepening the kiss, tongue probing out against hers and tasting the fresh air on each other’s lips. Naya moans her arousal into the kiss, and Heather’s hands slide lower on Naya’s stomach, teasing a path under her bikini.
Heather pushes her body against Naya’s from behind, and the movement sends Naya’s hips twitching into Heather hand and the motorcycle, and the vibrations only add to the pleasure as Heather’s fingers brush across her clit. She gasps and breaks the kiss, pushes her hips forward against Heathers fingers, and leans her head over Heather’s shoulder as the blonde builds up a rhythm. The motorcycle hums beneath them, and drowns out Naya’s crescendo of gasps as Heather pushes her closer to the edge. The feeling of Heather’s heated body behind her, moving against her with the rhythm of her hand; the shuddering of the motorcycle beneath them vibrating against her, tingling across her core; the insistent push of Heather’s fingers as they slide into her again and again while her thumb works her clit; it all brings her to the edge so quickly that she’s shaking with an orgasm before she’s even remotely ready for it. Her eyes snap shut, her grip tightens on Heather’s arm, and she moans and arches her back as the pleasure courses through her. A few seconds and gasping moans later, Heather drags her lips across her jawline and brings her down slowly.
“That was hot,” she purrs again, and Naya laughs at her. The sound is bubbly and content, but heavy behind a satisfied sigh, and she shifts against Heather to kiss her passionately again.
Then she slides forward (Heather reaches out for her obstinately, missing the heat her of body against her), pulls up her legs, and quickly and efficiently twists herself around so that she’s facing Heather with a delighted smirk on her face. She grabs the back of her neck and pulls her into another kiss before the blonde knows what’s happening. Heather smiles against her lips, and tries to pull away to say something, but Naya doesn’t let her, and grabs her hips instead to pull her against her. Her knees lie over Naya’s, and Naya runs her hands over her bare back as she kisses her more deeply. She pulls away for a second and is glad to see that Heather is breathless and panting for more, so she molds her lips over hers again, biting teasingly on her lower lip; Heather moans.
After a few seconds, she gets an idea and opens her eyes slyly. Heather’s face is flushed and her eyes are closed, and Naya smirks triumphantly as she winds her fingers around the straps of Heather’s bikini behind her neck and back with one hand, and tugs softly at the straps of the ones on her hips with the other. With a quick tug, she pulls all four straps at the same time, and all four bows come undone. She laughs gleefully when Heather pulls away with an appalled expression.
“Oh my God, Nay! Did you just shank me?!” she screeches, and Naya laughs even harder. Heather pushes her top up with one hand as the item falls off her breasts and exposes her nipples, and with the other, she hitches up the bottoms. Naya lets herself fall back against the hood of the motorcycle and laughs at Heather’s futile attempt to regain some dignity.
“Is that my thank you for that orgasm I just gave you?” Heather asks indignantly, tugging at her bikini.
Naya’s laugh subsides, but she doesn’t stop smiling. She shakes her head, and places her hand on Heather’s, pushing her arm away to admire her breasts. “No,” she murmurs, and leans forward to bring her lips to Heather’s nipple. She looks up at Heather and says clearly against her skin: “This is.” Then she brings her lips down completely and captures Heather’s nipple in her mouth, brushing her tongue over it and molding her lips over the sensitive skin. Her other hand comes up to cup her other breast as Heather lets out a sigh and pushes herself forward against Naya, as though she only comes alive with Naya’s touch.
But Naya pulls away and pushes herself back as far as she can go, so that her (moist) bikini tugs on the sun-warmed metal hood covering the gas tank as she slides closer to the windscreen. She grabs Heather’s hips and tugs, dislodging her comfortable seat and pulling her body so her legs are resting over Naya’s hips and she’s reclining on the double seat. Heather looks down at her in wonder and Naya smirks pointedly at her before bringing down her face and dipping her tongue into her bellybutton. Heather smirks at her and lets her head fall back, running one of her hands through her hair and waiting for more. Naya scoots herself back even farther until she’s straddling the gas tank and the position is angling her body so that her face is lower than her butt, and she spreads and hooks Heather’s legs over her shoulders. Heather has let go of her bikini, and Naya is faced with all her glistening glory. She looks up once more at Heather’s face; the blonde has her lip between her teeth, her hand still in her hair and another resting uncertainly on her hip, like she isn’t sure what she can hold on to, and her face is flushed with anticipation and longing. Naya smiles at her, and dips her tongue across her folds for the first taste. Heather whimpers her approval, and digs her fingers in Naya’s hair with satisfaction, glad she’s found something to hold on to.
“Naya - ohmigod!” she lets out as Naya licks across her again and presses her tongue against her clit. Naya feels a spurt of wetness against her lips, and she laps it up greedily. Mind the seat, she thinks with a chuckle, and the vibrations of her laugh mingle with that of the still-running motorcycle to make Heather gasp again. She pushes her hips forward, eager for more, and Naya obliges. She presses her tongue deeper into her; the angle is a little tricky, and in her pleasure, Heather is sliding further down the seat, but the unexpectedness of this position and the situation makes it twice as hot for the both of them, and Naya knows it won’t take much more to bring Heather to her climax. She brings her hand to Heather’s inner thigh, brushing a tickling touch along her skin before pushing a finger into her and curling up. Heather gasps at the surprising touch and arches her back off the seat.
“Naya…” she gasps again, and Naya takes it as a request to add another finger. She starts a rhythm, and sucks on Heather’s clit with her mouth in time, keeping up the beat and push and drum of it as Heather adds her vocals. Naya wishes she could join in with the harmony, but her mouth is a little occupied at the moment…
A few more seconds, and Heather arches her back off the seat again, freezing in the vertex of it, and voices her cries of pleasure. Her muscles tighten around Naya’s fingers, pulsing with the waves of ecstasy, and Naya moans onto her clit at the sensation. She sucks harder, and Heather cries out again at the timing as the brief insistent push brings her over the edge yet again. Her cries turn into high-pitched mantras of Naya’s name, the swell and push of Naya’s fingers are the beat, and the motorcycle hums the background layer beneath them in their new sexually-charged rendition of a familiar song.
Slowly, Heather lets her body shift down and rest on the leather seat again, , a deep sigh escaping her lips. Naya pulls her mouth and fingers away, and draws wet designs around Heather bellybutton as she lets herself slide off the metal gas tank. Heather slips her legs off Naya’s shoulders at the movement, and begins to sit up, but Naya stops her, hovering herself over her instead and kissing up along her stomach, her breasts, her neck, and finally her lips.
“Damn,” Heather murmurs happily. Naya still feels the vibrations of the motorcycle between her legs, and she turns slightly to switch off the engine. The sudden silence feels stifling for a second, but then she catches Heather’s eye, and they both begin to laugh, a releasing, easy laugh of amazement and excitement.
“Well… that was something new,” Naya mumbles, and lets her body rest on Heather’s. Heather’s legs are still parted, and she slides slickly against Naya’s stomach, but the brunette doesn’t mind.
“Yeah.”
“You know,” Naya says thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side, “I agree. Motorcycles are definitely hot.”
Heather smirks. “Told you.”
They lie there for a few minutes, enjoying their orgasm afterglow. Naya begins to feel the familiar sleepiness, and rests her head comfortably against Heather’s breast, but she knows they can’t stay like this. She trusts the motorcycle; she’s sure that if it can withstand their sexytimes, a nap should be no problem, but they’re still parked outside, and if her brother comes home to find them like this… well, he’d have a field day that would last a month. She laughs out loud at the thought, and lifts herself up.
“Come on,” she says, and slips herself off the motorcycle. Heather smiles at her.
“I don’t think I can,” she admits sheepishly. Naya holds out her hand, and Heather gets down shakily. She stands on wobbly legs, still completely naked, and Naya runs her eyes down her body pointedly. Heather picks up her bikini and grins, but doesn’t try to cover herself again.
Naya reaches to the motorcycle and pulls out the key. As she does, she notices a wet stain on the leather seat - and it’s definitely not water. Her mouth falls open at the sight, and a blush creeps into her face. Heather follows her gaze, and laughs.
“Well, so much for not getting the seat wet,” she murmurs. Naya grins at her.