Smarty

Part 1 : Say's he's gonna teach me just what fast is

Vance makes you get off (in the seggsy sense) on his motor-bike :)
This fic was inspired by the lovely @skull-pistol
(I literally know nothing about cars or bikes btw and, beleive it or not, i am a sad lil virgin!)

***

Vance was dumb. Really dumb. His ideas were never the most practical.

He sold his car and bought a motorbike, said he could fix it up, make it look real nice. It was essentially a hunk of metal when he began pulling it apart. When he finished, it was a motorbike. A damn stupid and dangerous one, but a motorbike nonetheless.

Vance had to practically strap you to the machine, you were so scared of it. It didn't help;p that he drove like a Nascar driver high off his face. It also didn't help that the fuckin' bike vibrated. And it certainly didn't help in the slightest when Vance used that gruff, angry voice with you.

"C'mon." He snapped, slapping his hand on the bike. "get on the fuckin' thing."

you were slack-jawed, shaking your head. "You drive like a maniac."

Vance shrugged. "So?"

you folded your arms over your chest and stared at the bike. He revved the engine and made it roar.

"Hear that, baby?" he said, sneering. "Wanna make it to 100 tonight?"

"I want you off that damn deathtrap." You snarled, even as the smile tugged at your lips. "Jesus, what did you stick it together with? Glue?"

Vance rolled his eyes at you. "Stop being a bitch and get on the damn bike."

you glared at him and, relenting, got on the bike. Grumbling, grasping at his biceps so you wouldn't lose your balance. Vance turned to look at you, head tilted to the side a little. "Don't you wanna sit up front?"

you snorted derisively. "So you can crash and i'll splat against the road? no thank you, Vance."

Vance furrowed his brows, irked that you would hint at his shoddy driving. He was a good driver, albeit a bit fast for your tastes. And maybe sometimes he did things just to scare you, like take his hands off the steeringwheel and slip down the inside of your thighs, but that was in the car. He couldn't do that with the bike. He could think of little he could do with the bike, come to think of it. Maybe you were right. Maybe it was a really shitty idea.

Nah, Vance thought, shaking the doubt aside. He was a fuckin' genius. You were just too stupid to see.

"get in front." Vance said, shoving his hips back. "it's safer, there. I know you get scared real easy."

"I'm not scared." You bridled at the comment but got off anyway. "I just don't wanna die."

Vance felt his face heat up. "I'm not a bad driver." He grumbled, "you're just boring."

You slotted yourself infront of him and grasped the steering-wheel. "Boring?" you repeated, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. "I'm not boring."

Vance placed his hands atop yours as the bike purred to life. "Oh yeah? you wanna take me for a ride?"

"Shut up, man." you said, sniggering.

vance brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. "I'll show you just what fast is."

***

Jesus, you were stupid. Riding the bike with him behind you? Skull-fucking-dumb. God, you were stupid. Why did you ever think you could taunt Vance. Why did you ever think you'd win. he loves these little games. He likes the cat-and-mouse chase. He likes the rollercoaster ride that keeps him high. He wants to put his hands on you and show you just what fast is, says it'll be alright, because he's behind you. He's got you. He was born to die but you're not ready to let him leave yet. You won't let him say yes to heaven. You'll just go along with what he wants and pray he sticks around for the long run. he'll pry you apart and his name will leave your lips like a final prayer. It doesn't help that the dumb fuckin' motorbike vibrates.

you practically hovered above the seat to avoid its vibration. The faster Vance drove, the more the motorbike roared. He wrapped his arms around you and let you lean back against his chest. He drove mean and fast across the dry, isolated road. He drove fast and left you yearning for something more, something hot to fill the empty heat inside of you.

"Scared?" He taunted, his hand on your thigh.

You swallowed hard. "Put your hand back on the handle-bars."

Vance flexed the fingers of his other hand, still lain precariously across one handle. "ask me nicely."

you hit another bump in the road. The sensation of hovering a few inches in the air, above that purring bike seat made you ask him in an instant. "Please, vance."

Vance obeyed. He stretched his arm back around you to grasp the handle-bars firmly in the calloused palm of his hand. Whether it was the thrill or the fear of driving dangerous down the long, isolated stretch of road, you didn't know, but butterflies had begun to pool in the pit of your stomach. you shifted your hips forward, mind and heart screaming, body and soul practically ensnared.

God, you were dumb. Were you seriously thinking about getting off on a motorbike? Would Vance even let you? He always said on his fingers or not at all. He never meant it though. Sometimes, he used his mouth or his dick to bring you relief. Sometimes, he made you use his thigh. That didn't happen often. he got too impatient and ended up spreading your legs just so he could slide his dick inside.

"What's the matter with you?" Vance muttered, his mouth at the shell of your ear. "I can feel ya grindin' up against me."

"I'm not." You retorted, cheeks flaming-red.

Vance increased his speed, brow furrowed. His breath tickled the back of your neck as he leaned against you, toned chest pressed flat against your spine. "I think you like the bike, baby. I think you like it alot."

A plume of dust escaped behind Vance's motor-bike. you grasped his fore-arm, fingers digging into sun-kissed skin, as the sin washes through you, sullies you whole. The fluttering feeling - butterfly wings- intensified the as he raced down the road at a furious pace, his own hips bucking forwards as he rocked his cock along the curve of your ass. You sank your teeth into lower lip and tore into flesh, tasting the blood on your tongue.

"Do it." Vance snapped, "I wanna hear you say it."

you dug your nails into his arm. He forced the bike to go even faster.

"Say my name." He sneered, practically snarling. "Say my name, and i'll let you cum."

His promise rang in your ear, though. Was it worth it - getting off on the vibrations of his motor-bike - only for him to (probably) pull over on the side of the road and fuck you raw, without a condom? Was it worth the stinging slap of his hand against your ass?

"Go faster." You said, sweeping your eyes shut. "Please, Vance, go faster."