Thursday, October 21, 2010

A jaunt down to Weston

It's been a while again since Handler and I got to see each other - so we took the opportunity of a nice sunny Saturday afternoon (and the dog's first free weekend for a month!), and headed down to Weston for a jaunt on the bike: Man and hound and the open road :))

It was a lovely ride: cold, but beautifully bright and clear. The pup even wore it's branded 'Bootbrush' leathers. We chatted all the way - about work, and interviews, and the scenery, and how good it was to be out together - and how much the pup missed seeing it's Man, but how that absence made the time we have together all the more precious and enjoyable.

Sitting close behind Him - my thighs gripping His through the padded leather - my gloved hands locked around His waist - squeezing Him so hard that it made Him groan and we risked cracking His ribs. Showing with my body and my instincts just how much His dog loves Him...

Weston beach
The were lots of bikes about as we got to Weston - and the pup finally learnt that it's Man had preplanned for us to be there because of the Weston Endurance beach Race. We got there a bit late, so most of the races were finished, but it was still great fun to wander around the pits, window-shop through all the MX stalls, and perve at the guys in their muddy MX boots and gear.

Best of all was strolling proudly beside my Man - seeing guys reading my name on my leathers and double taking when they saw my collar, padlock and dog-tag...

Weston's 'big wheel'
We only stayed a little while - long enough to stroll along the front and see the sun begin to set; we had hoped to go for a tea and warm-up at the Cliffs Tea Rooms - but we headed off along the Keystoke road and took the long route home via Avon Gorge and Clifton instead...
Avon gorge - with the illuminated bridge and moon

The Avon gorge is a beautiful road - high cliffs, the river winding between them - and the bridge illuminated high above.  But Handler had other things than scenery in mind...

We stopped by one of the lay-bys - the dog thought it was to oggle the climber just packing away his ropes, but Sir's voice came stern through the head-set: "Get off boy - in there. Now."

i clambered off and started to pull off my helmet - and almost whimpered when He then drove off. He couldn't have abandoned His dog?!?

i looked around, worried and confused - and then realised that in the ditch beside me was standing a ramshackle bunker: almost invisible where it was tucked under the cliff, and hidden by ivy...! My Man had not abandoned me - He had just found a spot where He could let His dog service Him undisturbed - and was now finding a place to hide the bike a little further down the road.

i slipped into the dark, leant against a wall, and waited for Him to return...

i didn't have to wait long - i could hear the stride of His boots and the creak of His leather along the road - then His silhouette was framed in the broken doorway, and His growl filled the space. He moved towards me, backed me against the wall - pinned me there with a booted leg pressed into me and His gloved hands against my shoulders. i stared up into my own reflection in the dark of His visor - smelt the warm musk of His leather - felt the strength in His gloved hands - and whimpered once more: but this time with shere animal arousal. i opened my body and mind to Him - to the space and the image, to this fantasy: the Biker and His pillion boy - alone in a seedy ruin beside the road, knowing no-one can see or hear - the anonymity of darkness and leather, dominance and submission... 

He reached to unzip His jacket - unbuckle His jeans; i took the sign and sank obediently to my knees. At the touch of His glove upon my head i leant forward - breathed the musk and heat of Him, let it work it's way deep into my brain, groaned as the dog in me awoke and stirred within the tightness of my own leather armour. My hands reached for His thighs - to feel His strength, but also to steady myself as my head spun with hunger and excitement. His own hunger showed in the hardness of His meat and the strength with which He pulled His dog's muzzle down onto it - pushing it down onto His hardness and growling at it's choking gasp as it struggled to swallow and breathe.

His hands held my head still - His hips grinding as He plowed into my throat - i was dizzy with the hunger and urgency with which He took His pleasure from His dog - the dog equally aroused and hungry to serve Him in response. He took pity, pulled back - let the dog breathe and cough; i barked my pleasure to Him, rocking back on my heels to grin up at Him with drool and precum wet in my beard and chin. His one gloved hand slowly stroked His meat whilst He towered over His dog in the gloom, visor reflecting the passing headlights when they flashed through the cracked bricks and holes of our hideaway. He held His meat up and away: revealing His balls, newly shaved and churning with sweet man-cum - inviting His dog's muzzle to lick and caress, mouth and chew; i could hear His panted grunts inside the helmet as i worked my face and tongue deep and hard - sucked and licked and worshiped His body and deepened His hunger all the more...

And then He was holding it's head steady once more - cupped gently within those strong gauntleted hands - His meat surrounded in the wet all-embracing warmth of His dog's mouth and tongue - both Man and hound frozen on the delicious edge of His satisfaction... teetering for an eternity before the final and inevitable explosion of His pleasure - thick, salty-sweet, an endless pumping stream of completion and satisfaction - every last seed hungrily sought and gratefully taken.

Finished, sated - hugging His dog's head to His legs - stroking and praising him for being such a good boy - making it feel so proud, so complete. Helping it to it's feet - letting it bury it's head inside His jacket for a moment - hug Him tight and thank Him for letting it please Him.  Man and hound slipping back out onto the road - finding the bike (and the dog taking a photo of Him with the moon rising above the suspension bridge).

Back through Clifton and on home - late for dinner, and the dog having to sheepishly apologise to Handler's partner for keeping Him late and distracted. Leaving instructions for the little 'gift' it had made to help Him with the interviews and work stress - and reminding Him that His dog has faith and confidence that He could dazzle and charm His way into *any* job - the same as He has charmed His way into His dog's heart and soul.

A sad little farewell - and then home to my own partner - and a cheeky late supper of Simpson's chips... :)

A wonderful, intense, unique afternoon. Thank you Sir!!


  1. that's My boy - Good dog for writing so well.
    Good boy!

  2. WUUUUFFF!!! That's my Man!!

    (wags his tail excitedly at making it's Man proud - just happy to be able to share with others the pleasure it has in loving and serving Him, and in being His *DOG*)

  3. I am so happy for you both. This retelling that you shared for all of us takes my breath away.

    I'm guessing you're feeling a LOT better. Both loki and I have been doing epidurals for the discs with a pretty good result.

    Now if we could just find time to find a deserted culvert on some back road......WOOF!!!!


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