Commitment Collection, page 10
part #1 of Commitment Series
He joins me in short bursts of laughter as he catches his breath. “No one does anything for me. I’m always running around looking after other people. I just don’t expect it, that’s all. This is the most amazing gift ever.”
“You deserve it. Plus, you have me thrown in too. Now get your gear on. We’re heading out.”
Kyle
After I’ve gotten over my embarrassing display of emotion, we set off with Elliott’s security detail following a discreet distance behind. My head is spinning, which is not a great start to my first time on a bike in more years than is probably sensible. It crosses my mind as I pull out of the garage and into the gravel that they should perhaps have refresher courses.
Not one to be bothered by an accident, Elliott is absolutely no help, standing on the sidelines throwing out unhelpful suggestions like, “Just get on, it’ll all come back to you.”
“But, I’ve never ridden anything this big. I only passed my test on a 125cc and then I've not ridden since.”
“It’ll be fine.” He hops on his bike, sparks up the ignition and the engine quite literally roars to life.
“I’ll follow you and make sure you’re OK.” He instructs me on the details of our route and I’m left to my own devices. I click down for first gear and simultaneously release the break as I twist the gas.
I can tell it’s going wrong as soon as I start to move. My balance, which is usually good, is off. I have enough slow motion time to consider that this must be due to my being more tense than usual. After all, not only am I on a bike the size of a small pony, but Elliott, the number one racing driver in the world is watching my every move.
‘Jesus, how did I get into this?’ I think.
I have too much speed. I’m not sure if I’d be able to control it under normal circumstances, but it’s even worse on this gravel. The back end slips out. That’s OK. It’ll handle itself back again. I just need to relax and make sure I have enough power going through the engine to give it the down force to pull through.
That’s my plan.
But plans don’t often work out.
And this is no exception.
My heart leaps into my mouth and I let out an almighty cry as I drop the bike. Right on top of me.
Elliott appears at lightning speed from the garage, arms flailing above his head.
“Are you OK?” he manages through fits of laughter.
I nod, glowing red with shame.
He bends over, not to help me as I’d initially thought, but no, because he can’t stand up properly such is the vigor of his hilarity. It’s his turn now. Tears are streaming down his face and he’s bent over, wheezing for air, choking as he tries to pull himself together.
“Fucking hysterical. I could have hurt myself you know.” I am indignant.
He half stands, hands on his thighs. “There’s no way you were going to injure yourself at that speed. You crawled out of the garage. I’m not surprised you ended up on your rump.”
“Harrumph.” I disengage my right leg from the metal and stand up. It is sore, but I’m not about to mention it so this fool can laugh a little harder at my very literal downfall. Instead I rub my leg while Elliott concentrates on ceasing his laughter.
I collect my bike and begin my damage inspection.
“Don’t bother with that. You’ll be lucky if you scratched the paintwork at that speed. Now hop on it and let’s get out of here.”
“Dick!” I shout through the space in my helmet.
He holds his hand up and waves as he walks back to his bike and pulls out like the pro he is. “Change of plans. You can follow me. Otherwise we'll never get there,” he hollers as he passes.
“Dick!” I repeat.
Elliott
Well, that was intended to be an emotional morning, and it didn’t disappoint. It’s not even 8am yet and we’ve both had a cry for our own reasons. Kyle is OK now that he’s found his confidence and we’re cruising, side by side, around the country lanes taking in the first rays of the spring sunshine. The security crew is keeping a respectful distance and for all intents and purposes we are alone.
We’ve been riding about an hour when we’re almost at my regular hangout. I wave my left hand; I think he understands that we'll be pulling off soon.
As we slow outside the old cafe where all the bikers congregate on weekend mornings, I look in my mirror. No Kyle. I jump off and spin on my heel, searching for him. He’s parked up down the road.
“What are you doing?” I ask, as I take the fairly substantial jog over to him.
“Huh?” He feigns ignorance.
“You parked miles away?”
“No, I didn’t.”
And then it all makes sense. “You didn’t want to pull off in front of the other bikers when we leave, did you?”
“Quit with the teasing would you? I’m new to this.” He gives me a harsh shove for good measure.
“I love being around you, Kyle Beaumont. You’re unique.”
“Well, I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He bows.
We walk a few paces before he asks, “Are you going to be OK here? Won’t people recognize you?”
“Yeah, but I’ve been coming for years, so they’re pretty used to me now. I might get asked for the odd selfie, but generally they’re a really cool crowd.”
We approach the low level stone cafe through a crowd of motorcycles. Everyone from miles around has descended to mark the start of the good weather, and it’s busier than usual.
Inside, swarms of bikers consume every available space. They share tables while others stand to eat their bacon sandwiches out of a paper napkin.
“Morning Elliott. The usual is it?” The old man behind the counter asks.
“Yes please, John, and a bacon sandwich. How are you?”
The man must be eighty and he’s been serving for as many years as I’ve been visiting. He wipes his hands on his white apron before speaking as he trots off to the griddle. He tells us about his son who has problems with his knees. It’s probably because he’s ready for drawing his retirement pension himself. I don’t say anything. He’s good enough to cook my special protein pancakes, plus this place wouldn’t be the same without him.
As we wait, my attention diverts from the process of ordering to the business of waiting. And of Kyle waiting. We’re not touching and yet I can still feel his presence radiating against me. This feeling of being made whole by the mere proximity of another person who doesn’t even need to speak to deliver everything that will sustain me is something I can want to get used to.
I reach my hand back and touch his fingers. He doesn’t flinch but instead he wraps his in mine. My heart could burst as we stand in that line waiting for our order.
Kyle
We don’t talk much during our breakfast. We’re just content with being in the moment. We chat about the week and what’s gone on at work, the general conversation of any couple out for a weekend ride.
My legs are numb when we stand, partly from the bruise that is forming on my thigh and hip where the bike skidded onto me earlier. I don’t say anything, preferring to ignore the pain than be ridiculed.
“We’re going for a walk in the woods now. It’s a beautiful place that I want to take you to,” I tell him as we stop at his bike outside the cafe.
“Elliott Judd walks in the countryside?” I ask.
“Sure, you have to go where there aren’t many people sometimes. It opens my eyes to experiences that I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed had I not been forced into this position.”
“Huh, I guess I can see how that could be,” I reply.
“Do you not like the outdoors, then?” He has his helmet on now so his voice is muffled. He wraps his arm round my waist, leaning into me as we moderate our pace to the other as he walks me to my bike up the road.
“I am, but I never expected you to be. You’re the adrenaline junkie king.”
He hops on his bike and kicks the stand free. “You drive past and I’ll catch up, Miss Daisy.”
He was under selling the place. It’s a forest, not woods. And it’s totally secluded.
“Leave your bike here but bring your helmet with you,” he instructs as I dismount beside him. I have to say, he is very bossy this weekend. Part of me knows it’s because he has something special organized and has planned everything we will do down to the finest detail. Another piece of me is very well aware that this is just who he is. I love that about him. The way he’s not ashamed about who he is nor what he wants.
“I can’t wait to show you this. Come on.” There he goes again.
I grab his hand and we walk down a dirt path. My new leathers creak with the movement and birds chirp in the trees. It’s a strange combination. The security detail dashes off in the distance, eager to give us space to be alone while maintaining their vigilance over Elliott’s safety.
“I’ve always wanted to come here with someone, but I’ve never found the right person,” Elliott explains as we wander along.
The rush of air over your skin when you ride sets your nerves alive, but the downside is that when you stop, so does that cooling air and as your nerves crackle, your skin sticky with the heat of a slower motion. But, the enormous trees shade the pathway and it’s still early in the day and the year. It doesn’t take long before the shadows once more reduce my temperature.
Until his last comment.
My heart soars and it’s like there’s a beam of light shining from his soul into mine. That energy which connects us burns strong and in unison.
We stop walking.
Staring at him, his brilliance shimmers through into my bones. I want to hold this feeling tight when I'm old, to have it warm my shaking limbs.
“Thank you for bringing me here. Thank you for everything today, but thank you for bringing me to a place which is special to you.”
We kiss. I’m not sure who kisses who. Our lips just meet and there it is again, that yearning from earlier, his need for me to experience the strength of his emotions. When we part, there’s no rush, we languish in the time we have with each other, I stroke his face, cup his chin and bring him toward me before brushing my lips against his again.
“Come on, this is only the start. There’s way more to show you yet.” He leads off, once more like an excited puppy.
Elliott
We turn the corner to find a wooden hut. Kyle doesn’t say anything. I guess he assumes it’s a tourist center like I did the first time.
“I’ll just quickly run inside,” I say, “You can hang around here if you like.”
“OK.” His voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the tranquility.
When I’m done, I bounce down all five rickety wooden steps. I skip up behind him and crash into him while wrapping my arms round his waist, locking them at the front. He smells divine as my nose presses against his jersey.
“I have such a great surprise for you,” I say, beaming into his back.
He shifts and I release my grip so he can turn and eye me. “Really? You have more lined up?”
“Sure; today is special. It’s our first date. We’ll remember it forever.” It’s out of my mouth before I realize what I’ve said. I know how I feel, but I haven’t processed it yet, and I certainly wasn’t ready to announce it to Kyle that I see him being a permanent fixture in my life while standing here in front of this ridiculous wooden hut.
He doesn’t seem to notice though. He just accepts what I’ve said, like it’s no big deal. Not in a harsh way that upsets me, but with a warmth which tells me he feels the same. In a, it’s-no-big-deal-because-that’s-just-how-it-is-between-us, kind of way.
I push him from behind until he starts walking. We cross through our gate and I jog around to join him at his side for the grand reveal. We round the corner and there it is.
A clear sphere in the trees. It’s back-lit so the contents are visible against the shade of the giant trees. The transparent globe contains a double bed, two fireside chairs and a roll top bath. The changing and showering facilities are hidden behind some kind of a low level structure.
“What’s that?” he scrunches his brow.
“We’re spending the night here. Come on.” I grin and he joins me. I know I should display a little more decorum, but I’m excited. And my nature is to run on adrenaline, so what’s a boy to do?
Kyle follows me up the steps and before I’ve had a chance to turn, he removes his heavy leathers and jumps on the bed, lying with his bare legs hanging off the edge, head back on his hands staring up at the sky.
“Imagine how beautiful the stars will be when the dark falls. There's no light pollution anywhere,” I say.
“You read my mind. It’ll be magnificent. You’ve done well, Elliott. Happy first date to us.”
I remove my bike gear and join him on the bed, content. Branches shift behind our heads as the tree we’re nestled in moves with the sway of the earth. Our hands intertwine and we lay, silent, contemplating the beauty of the natural world.
I lean on one side, satisfied to take in the wild grace of this man who I have chosen to share my mini-dream with. I have every luxury, but they don’t compare to Kyle. I release my grasp from his and use it to support my head, running my other under his top and across his treasure trail. I stop at his belt, run my nails around it. He sucks in, and his stomach dips from the leather. It’s tempting to dig deep, but I resist, returning my fingers to his chest. The mound of his toned pecs fit satisfyingly within the curve of my palm. I rest it there, luxuriating in the beat of his heart as it vibrates into my flesh while his chest rises and falls with his flurried breathing.
Running my hands over his taught muscles, I follow a path over the stiff ridges of his abs and down to his nonexistent love handles, enjoying a moment to trace along the line just above his hips.
“Ow, be careful would you!”
“Huh?” Caught up in my explorations, I hadn’t expected him to react so strongly to my gentle caress. “What’s wrong?”
He lifts his tee so I can see. A nice purple bruise is forming on his hip. “From earlier,” he groans.
At any other time, I would have laughed, but my dick is throbbing way too hard to even consider this. Instead, I hunch over, straining to touch the exact spot with my lips, kissing around his tender graze. His arm snakes around my back and exerts a force which lets me know in no uncertain terms that this man wants me on top.
How could I resist?
Elliott
How could I resist?
I shift my weight on the bed so I’m straddling his hips. Caressing his firm skin under his tee, I rake the my fingertips over his rugged chest hair. Hiking his top toward his head, then over it, I stop short, trapping his arms so he's captured in full view of anyone passing our transparent hotel in the trees.
I skim my nails down the smooth underside of his strong forearms, his stocky biceps, and his trimmed underarms. His skin puckers, leaving a trail of gratification, like the velvet plume from an aircraft in the blue sky above us.
“You are gorgeous,” my voice whispers over his ear.
“You are... awesome,” he reaches and sucks my bottom lip between his as my breath hitches. His restrained power is exhilarating. I let a groan escape before drawing away, impatient for more of his body, nipping his collar bone between my teeth. I draw my hands down to the soft, sensitive area to the side of his pecs and nibble his neck, then trail over to his pert nipple, as dark as the deep chocolate pools of his irises.
I lick a glistening sheen along his pebbled flesh, twisting his extended buttons between my gentle teeth, probing until they throb, rolling them with my tongue while my nails graze every sensitive section of his flesh.
He groans, shifting his hips, “You’re driving me crazy.”
The thrill pumps until I'm dizzy, my eyes hood and my cock swells. I suckle his taught skin, harder, with more urgency, before licking down the dip between his abs, nipping with my teeth, moaning with each touch I connect to his toned abs.
His arms are still tied in his tee over his head. “Lift your butt.” I strip his belt open and pop his buttons. His ripped jeans and underwear catch at his knees. Tugging them, I rip them off, firing them into a bundle on the floor.
“Hmm...” His cock is demonstrating its appreciation, broad and heavy, his bulbous head already aching.
“This isn’t fair,” he pants. “You’re still dressed; it’s only me on display to anyone walking past.”
“And I like it that way.” I have a devilish spark in my eye.
“No, stop,” he says.
“Huh?”
“Yeah, take your top off.”
So we’re playing that game. I'm happy to oblige. Crossing my arms at my waist, I pull my top over my head, allowing him to enjoy the full effect of my flexing muscles.
“Magnificent. Well done.” His voice is raspy.
“Now your pants.”
He eyes me from his relaxed and very nude position on the bed. I slow my efforts, unbuttoning my fly one button at a time, deliberately pulling the material apart section by section. I wiggle my hips as I reveal the focus of his desire in excruciatingly small segments. He's trembling as I splay my legs either side of his torso, shirtless and a naked V exposed where my underwear should be.
“Flying commando again, I see.” He raises an eyebrow and his iris sizzles with passion.
“I know how you like it.” I push the fabric lower, uncovering my waist, slowly pushing down my trousers exposing the creamy flesh of my hip bones. I loop my thumbs inside, work them down to the top of my ass. I step over him with one leg, spin around so my butt is facing him and wiggle the material loose so it drifts down to my ankles. I seize the lube I’ve sneaked in, and squirt a layer between my cheeks, tilting so he sees exactly what I'm doing.
"Oh, Elliott, you're incorrigible," he murmurs. "I need my hands."
