I did without question, sensing what Bowie wanted. I wanted it too. He stepped closer to the bed, rubbing the leaking head of his cock over my lips. Locking my gaze to his, my tongue came out to lick the sticky thickness of pre-cum from my lips.
"Wrap your fucking lips around my dick," he demanded gruffly, twisting a hand in my hair. I opened my mouth with a gasp of pain. He used it to his advantage, pushing the full length of his cock past my lips. When the head hit the back of my throat I swallowed, using my throat muscles to squeeze around him.
His thick thighs quivered. "Sweet fuck!" he groaned, closing his eyes, and rolling his head back. He began to move his hips slowly at first, thrusting his meaty mouthful in and out, in and out, while I tongued and sucked with blissful abandon. His tasty cock was hard as steel, the layer of skin covering it soft and hot, and I could feel every vein and ridge.
I moaned, running my open mouth along the outside length down to his balls. I lapped at them, rolled them around gently in my mouth, hearing the breath hiss through Bowie's lips. I stuck my tongue inside the slit at the head, relishing in the shudder that racked his body. Could I bring the big bad biker to his knees? His thrusts picked up speed as did his breathing and just when I was sure he was about to come he pulled out.