The overlook

Dario followed my tail light up the hill because I had told him to, not because he had decided the night. He is thirty-three. We met at a bar that is not on my route, and in his car at the bottom of the overlook I made him say the game back. I run. He chases. He catches me because I want to be caught. He can fuck me hard. The word is redlight, and if I say it he stops and the game is over and we are just two people with a bike. He repeated redlight. He asked if I wanted it rough. I said yes, against the bike and over the seat, and I want to cum. Then I got out. I stood beside the dark motorcycle in the leather jacket, grey t-shirt, jeans, cropped hair, city far below. My mouth was still fast. The rest of me had already decided.

I said go, and I ran the path that skirts the overlook, boots loud, laughing once because the air was cold and I wanted this. He gave me a real head start. I heard him after the first bend. I did not say redlight. I wanted the catch. He got me by the waist where the path opens back onto the gravel, and I shoved at him once so he would feel the fight I had agreed to, then I stopped shoving. Caught, I said. Fuck me. He walked me to the bike. The leather came open. Jeans down. He spun me and fucked his cock into my cunt standing, my hands on the tank, the bike solid under my palms. It was hard the way I had ordered, deep, his grip on my hips, nothing on my neck. I told him harder. He fucked me harder. I was loud and I did not care about the empty lot.

Then I wanted the seat. I bent over it, chest on the leather, and told him to fuck my cunt like that. His cock drove in and the angle hit right. I reached under and rubbed my clit. He asked if redlight was close. I said no, do not you dare stop. I came shaking against the seat, cunt pulsing around his cock, a rough grateful sound I muffled in my own arm. He asked where. I told him to pull out and cum on the gravel, not in me. He did, gasping, one hand still spread on my lower back. We stood there with the night wide open. I fixed my jeans. I checked his face. He was grinning and a little wrecked and he had stopped nowhere I did not want.

I did not kiss him goodbye like a promise. I said redlight was not needed and the fuck was what I wanted. He nodded. I swung a leg over the bike, started it, and rode home alone over the garage. The room was cold. I slept like a person who had been caught on purpose and then left.