Date: Tue, 04 Mar 2003 18:19:21 -0800 (PST)
From: Dave <davmay699@icqmail.com>
Subject: Hot Shoe (Adult Youth M/m)
Warning:
This document contains Adult Material.
If it is illegal where you live to view adult material, leave now!
If you find Adult material offensive, you may also leave now.
If you have not left, then it is assumed you are either not illegal
and you would not be offended by the content of this story. So
sit back and hopefully enjoy.
Feedback is cheerfully encouraged!
If anyone that would like me to write a story about your
experiences send me an outline.
Please send mail to davmay699@icqmail.com
Hot shoe
By
Dave
Tommy grew up in a family of flat track bike racers.
The bikes they raced were 883 cubic centimeters (CC) Harley
Davidson Sportesters. As a result he was racing bikes by the
time he was a twelve-year old. The thing about flat track half-
mile racing is that the bike is constantly in a left turn slide. The
left foot is almost always on the ground. Typically a rider has a
steal plate on the left foot. The handlebars are almost always
counter steering to the right.
Because most racers are ridding Harley's the sport attracts
outlaw clubs. Because they are full of male machismo posturing
they never like to admit that a lot of them are gay. Even if they
have done hard time in jail they would never admit they punked
out and let guys fuck their ass or sucked cock behind bars.
They do enjoy raping guys, but think that they are not gay
if they are the one sticking their cocks in other guy's mouth or
ass. They even call the buddy seat on the rear finder of their
bikes a Bitch Seat. Any guy that rides passenger set is assumed
to be punk to the guy controlling the bike.
Because Tommy started racing bike before his voice
changed he saw more than most boys his age. He was winning
races because he was so light that he could accelerate much
faster on the short straight-aways. As a result he was getting a
following of fans.
On the road he traveled with a small group of riders and
mechanics (Wrenches). Tommy earned the nick name Hot Shoe
because he heated up the left plate and went through them so
much faster than his teammates.
The team traveled the racing secret in a motor home they
lived in and a second truck that served as a carry all. Bikes,
extra parts, tools and tires. Because they showered infrequently
the motor home smelled of sweat, gas, grease, high performance
oil and motor gunk (used to clean metal parts). Unless you have
slept in an enclosed space with several men that smell of body
odor and bad breath you can't understand how much a young
teenager wants to sleep in a room by himself.
Tommy would rather sleep outdoors on the ground that in
the truck. He learned a lot of ways to make a comfortable place
to sleep on everything from concrete to sand.
Because he was on the road so much he went to school
most of the time by correspondence. He was in a classroom
very little. He missed out on a lot of the social interaction his
contemporaries experienced. He never had the early puppy love
attachments with girls. He never took a date to a prom.
The guys on the racing team had introduced him to sex
when he first went on the road by paying for a professional
prostitute. Not quit the All-American boy's life.
The men he admired were the guys that could spend all
night repairing an 883 and go out the next day and win races by
using every trick in the book. A common thing they would do is
ride just behind the leader. When they were ready to make their
move, they would put their front wheel against the rear wheel of
the leading rider and deliberately bump the wheel hard enough
to kick the rear out from under the rider. This would dump them
against the wall.
Every rider can tell you when and where he broke every
bone. They count the years of racing by the number of bones
broken. When they gather to get drunk they take pride in
showing the scars where pins were inserted and where bones
came through the skin.
Tommy's hero was an old rider, named Bruce but was
known as Goose, that taught him every trick. He knew when
riders were setting him up to bump him. Goose would let them
think they had him and just when they were ready to bump him
he would wind the throttle just a little harder. When they turned
the front wheel to bump him the bike would not be there. This
would place the guy out of position and possibly put him into
the wall.
Tommy spent as much time with him as possible gleaning
every bit of information he could. When the team parked on the
road Tommy would get Goose to sleep next to him for his
company.
When they were camped out along side some desert road
if they needed to relive themselves during the night they simply
got up and walked off into the sand and use their cock like a
hose and arched it far enough away that the splash onto their
feet.
On hot nights they slept on top of their bedrolls naked.
Tommy was as familiar with Goose's body as his own body.
Tommy was still almost devoid of body hair. Goose looked like
a graying grizzly bear. They were both lean and average height.
Where Tommy's scars were pink or even whiter than his
youthful body, Goose's body was covered with dark brown
scars. When Tommy got a hard-on it stood straight up in the air
when he was on his back. When Goose got a hard-on it still
leaned in a curve to the left side of his body, probably from
years of masturbating with his right hand and bending his cock
over his thumb. The final difference was that Tommy was
circumcised and Goose was not. The foreskin on Goose's cock
was loose but did not completely cover the head of his cock. It
partly covered the right side more than the left like a cocked hat.
One night while they were talking as they lay under the
stars, Goose reached over and wrapped his hand around the
Tommy's stiff cock. Tommy returned the favor by wrapping his
hand around Goose's cock. They didn't say anything. Goose
took charge and moved his body around so that he was on top of
Tommy and started sucking the boy's cock. He let Tommy pull
him around where he could suck Goose's cock too.
Tommy could smell the sweat and odor of his leather
pants. Goose practically lived in a pair of old leather jeans when
he was not in his racing leathers. When the head of the cock
touched his lips he felt the slick drop of pre-cum. When he
opened his mouth the head of the cock entered his mouth.
Goose was sucking the sweet young cock with all the skill of an
old cocksucker. Goose fucked Tommy's mouth while he was
sucking Tommy's cock. Tommy almost choked on the cum.
It took a few times before Tommy learned to enjoy
sucking off Goose but he did enjoy it when Goose sucked him
off, from the start. Goose started using his finger to rub
Tommy's asshole while he was sucking his cock. Slowly he got
the teenager used to him putting his finger in the hole and
stimulating his prostate gland while he sucked on his cock.
Goose was bringing Tommy out slowly. He taught
Tommy that he could make him cum by using his finger to
stimulate his prostate gland. It was quite a surprise when he shot
a load of cum with out even touching his cock.
Some nights later he greased up Tommy's cock and while
he lay on his back. He rolled himself back until his knees were
close to his head. He guided Tommy's cock into his own
asshole and let Tommy fuck him. After Tommy recovered from
his climax, Goose placed Tommy on his back and greased up the
hole and his cock. He slowly inserted his cock. Tommy begged
him to take it out. Goose told him to push like he was going to
the bathroom and to cough. When Tommy pushed, Goose
pushed his cock into the hole.
They rested until Tommy got used to the feeling. Then
Goose fucked him slowly, while he masturbated Tommy's cock.
Tommy shot his load onto his own belly and felt so relaxed as
Goose shot his load into Tommy's butt.
Goose told Tommy that if he ever had sex with anyone
else like that to make sure he uses a rubber. He told him that it
was too risky with Aids out there.
A short time later when they were in a race, a rider that
had just gotten his pro license took Goose out of a race, in a
three-bike pileup. The rookie's handlebar broke one or two of
Goose's ribs.
They had to rush him to the hospital. The team laid-up in
a cheap motel for a couple of days while Goose recovered. That
gave Tommy time to wash his clothes and soak in a tub. He did
not feel like being with the other riders and wrenches for a
while.
He rolled out one of the street bikes in the truck. It was a
FXLR Harley.
For those of you that don't know what a FXLR is, It was a
bike made for a few years. The last model year was in the
middle nineties. It was a good bike to customize but required
longer to assemble. The reason Tommy like it was because they
had found it in parts and by the time they had it running again
the thing looked stock but nothing inside the engine was stock.
Tommy rode into town and found a bar with bikes parked
out front. Even though he was still a teenager he had weathered
enough that no one cared him anymore. He sat at the bar and
ordered a tap beer.
The bar was full of bikers and some were pretty drunk.
As luck would have it one asshole recognized Tommy.
"Hay man your Hot Shoe Tommy, aren't you?"
Tommy simply lifted his glass in acknowledgement. The
guy said, "Your pretty good.ever race anything other than
Sportsters?" Tommy said, "No.only flat track." The guy
would not let it go. He asked Tommy if he was riding a
Sportester? Tommy told him that all the team's Sportsters were
not street legal. The guy wanted to know what he was riding.
Tommy simply said, "It is just an old FXLR.
This led to him wanting to see it. Tommy reluctantly
went out front and pointed out the bike. The guy was not
impressed. He started pushing Tommy into drag racing him for
a quarter mile. He thought his softtail SFTC could take his bike.
Tommy finally agreed to race for beers. The asshole
pressed for more. Tommy told him the bike just belonged to the
team. He didn't own it. It was finally agreed that loser would
pay the winner's bar bill.
The bar emptied and lined to road to watch the quarter
mile match race. They lined up and Tommy simply and coolly
waited for the guy to start the race. Tommy did heat the rear tire
up by standing on the ground and by holding the front brake so
the bike would not move and letting the rear tire spin. When he
had smoked the tire he settled down. He leaned out over the
handlebars so the front end would not come up when the guy
dropped his arm.
When the starter dropped his arm Tommy get go. He
knew the bike well enough that he simply let the bike to the
work. At the end of a quarter mile he was a bike length ahead of
the guy. He had not really used all the horses, because he knew
better than to make the guy look foolish.
They returned to the bar and the guy told the bartender
that all of Hot Shoe Tommy's bar bill was on him. Tommy
proceeded to tie on. By closing time he was in no shape to ride
back to the motel. He went outside and around the corner to pee.
He started walking back to the street afterwards and stumbled.
He had to rest his back against the wall of the bar. He slowly
slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground. He
crossed his arms on his knees and rested his head on his arms.
He was just about to fall asleep. When he felt himself being
shook.
The guy he had beaten was standing over him. Tommy
was too drunk to notice that they were alone. Even the bartender
had locked up and gone home.
Tommy looked up and said, "Hi guy!"
He said, "Hot Shoe if you're going to beat me racing you
can at least repay me by being my Bitch."
Tommy was too drunk to stop him. The guy was in Jeans
and chaps. He just gave the buttons on his jeans a tug and pulled
out his cock and balls. Tommy was looking at a pink skinned
shaft that was a respectable size with a small heat that turned
upwards like a coat hook. The scrotum was pink and firm
because it was all he could do to get his cock and balls out of his
jeans.
He stepped forward and shoved his cock into Tommy's
mouth. The act of the head touching the back of Tommy's
throat caused Tommy to through up. Tommy empties his
stomach of his dinner and a lot of beer all over the front of the
guy's jeans chaps and boots. That pissed the guy off.
He pulled Tommy to his feet and pushed him towards his
bike. He pulled Tommy's jeans down and made him straddle
the rear finder by making him lay face down over the saddle and
gas tank. He stuffed his cock into Tommy's asshole. He did it
so roughly that Tommy cried out in pain. He had not recovered
from the assault before the guy came in his ass.
The guy just lifted his right leg up and dumped him on the
ground next to the bar before starting his bike and ridding off.
Tommy slept a couple of hours before the night air cooled off
enough to wake him up. He pulled up his jeans and mounted his
bike for the ride to the motel. He washed up and went to bed.
Goose woke him up. He had checked out of the hospital
and taken a cab to the motel. When Tommy dressed they went
to a dinner for breakfast.
Goose could tell by the way that Tommy was walking that
he was in pain. Over coffee Goose found out about what
happened. Goose gathered up the rest of the riders and
wrenches to go to that bar that evening.
The guy did come in to the bar eventually. He gave
Tommy as smug look. He came over and put his arm around
Tommy's shoulder and asked if he was back for more. Goose
hit him in the stomach with the but end of a short sick that sent
him falling to the floor. He could not breathe.
Goose stood over him and told him, "Any asshole that
fucks with one of his teammates has to answer to him. I hear
that you like to race. You're are going to the dirt track to have
to four laps race with me. It will not be over until you make
four dull laps."
The friends of the guy tried to step in. That is when The
other riders and wrenches formed a half circle around them and
told them to back off. No one drew any guns but they let the
bikers see they had guns in their belts. They backed off and said
what is the beef.
Goose told them that their buddy had rapped the kid. If
you want to watch this race you can. Otherwise back of.
They put up their hands and said they would just watch.
Everyone got on their bikes and went to the track. He made the
guy race his street machine and he took the FXLR and let the
race begin. On the first turn he slammed the guy's bike against
the wall. The bike was bent up and the guy was bleeding from
the leg. He sat there and waited for him to get up and start the
bike again.
Goose let him get almost to the next turn before he kicked
his rear wheel out dumping him on the track again. He dumped
him on every corner of the four laps. The bike was a wreck.
Spokes were broken. The gas tank was leaking. The chrome
was scraped up. The handlebars were bent. Before the guy
reached the finish line Goose dumped him again and rode up and
over him. When the rear wheel was on his leg he stood up on
the other bike enough to take enough weight off the rear wheel
to let him do a burnout on the guy's leg until the leather chaps
were burned through and the tire ripped the flesh. The saddle of
the bike was being ripped to shreds too. He crossed the line and
walked back to stand over the guy and taunt him to get up and
drag his bike across the finish line.
The guy got up and hopping on one leg. He pulled his
bike across the finish line. When he collapsed on the dirt track,
Goose stood there and told him if he can't lose a race gracefully
he should never ride a bike again.
The team never talked about the rape again or the way that
Goose had sought revenge. It was enough that they all knew
that Goose was having sex with Tommy.
If you enjoyed the story and have a story you would like me to
write send your comments to davmay699@icqmail.com