It was one of those typical Fridays. Given a weeks worth of frustration in the office and wonderful spring like weather, I left the office at lunch with no intention of returning till Monday. Making good on my promise to reward myself for the weeks hard work, I was enjoying a very relaxing drive north on the parkway, windows down, sun roof open, music blaring, and of course "a la Leslie". Black heels, black thigh high stockings, pink thong panties, tight black mini, and red sweater. I was in a "blonde" mood at week's end, so I had my old standby blonde wig pulled back in a short ponytail covered by a baseball cap.

Cruising along, singing with the radio, not a care in the world. What a way to decompress from the pressure cooker I call work.

There aren't many cars using the parkway on Friday afternoon, which makes cruising en femme relaxing here. The occasional inquisitive driver is usually past so quickly that they're not sure what they saw anyway, and most just tell themselves "that had to be a girl" and let it go at that. I've had no hassle at all from the parkway police in the year or so that I've been doing this. So, I'm completely relaxed by the whole experience, wailing along with Hootie at the top of my lungs as I move farther from the city towards Jefferson National Forest and some of the most beautiful, isolated mountain scenery in the world.

I was so enthralled with the beauty of the moment that I was completely unaware of the 4 bikers approaching from behind. As the first roared by I snapped back to reality in time to see the other three, approaching single file. They slowly moved past, each giving me the once over in a way that made me both cringe with trepidation and tingle a bit with excitement. By the time the last one was even with my door, the excitement (and my exhibitionist tendencies) had won over, and I turned and gave him a big smile. He passed me, then slowed a bit so he could look back at me, then pulled back until he was just abreast. From his position, and his eyes, I could tell he was staring at my legs, so I let the skirt slip up past the tops of my hose, and spread my thighs just enough for him to get a glimpse of my panties. He took a good long look, smiled, and sped on past to join his companions. Eventually I lost sight of them in the distance and put the whole encounter in my memory (not too far back mind you).

I had driven only a few miles when I caught sight of them again, this time stopped at a scenic overlook, relaxing beside their bikes. On impulse, I pulled into the overlook parking area and drove slowly past them to the opposite end where the litter can was located. Gathering up anything I could find to throw away, I quickly got out of the car, walked the 10 or so feet to the litter can, and threw away my trash, giving them a good look at me in the process. As I walked back to the car I could feel 4 sets of eyes burning into my back, and the feeling made me exaggerate the sway of my hips just slightly. I got in the car and drove away, still heading north., before finally coming to my senses and realizing I was playing with fire here. "Leslie, you've had your thrill, leave well enough alone and head home" I was thinking, so at the next scenic overlook I pulled in to turn around and head south.

The sound coming from the front wheel and the feel of the steering told me at once that the driver side front tire was going flat. I must have run over something in that last overlook. Well, when I cruise en femme, I do take some precautions in case something like this happens, and had a set of coveralls in the trunk. I slipped off my wig and heels, got out and retrieved the coveralls and put them on over "Leslie". While not entirely passable as a male now, with the way the car was situated relative to the parkway, I felt confident I could get the tire changed without attracting undue attention.

I had the spare tire out and the jack placed when I saw the first bike pull slowly into the parking area. As I held my breath, the other four slipped in and parked about 20 feet away. I tried not to concentrate on my work and not let them see me looking at them as the tall blonde one who I had let stare into my crotch slowly approached the car.

"Looks like you've got yourself trouble there" he said, a smirk on this face.

"Yeah, well it's not that bad" I replied, trying not to look at him and betray the sense of weakness I felt.

"Well, JR there is a virtuoso with tires, he could have that changed in no time"

"I, uh, think I can handle it" I said, the quiver sneaking into my voice.

"Well, it would be a shame for a little girl like you to mess up those pretty hands. I'll bet you have better things to do with them than change tires"

"Look" I started "I'm not really what you th..........."

"I know just what you are" he interrupted "you're a drag fag. Now why don't we let JR change that tire, and you and I can go on down the walking trail. We'll figure out some way you can thank me."

"What do you mean, thank you?" I asked, the answer already in my mind.

"Suck my dick" he said, his eyes burning into mine. It wasn't a suggestion, or a request, it was his decision. And as I looked at him I knew, whether JR changed that tire or not, no matter what I said, or tried to say, I was going to end up sucking his dick. My resolve, my resistance, my good sense was melting away fast. I was being drawn to this tall blonde biker with the speed of light, and I had the strangest feeling that I was going to like whatever he gave me, do whatever he asked me.

"Uh, Ok", I murmured, half aloud , and reached up to fondle his crotch. He brushed my hand away.

"No, drag fag, I want you like a woman, and in the woods"

I got my wig and heels from the car, and he led me from the parking area, down the walking trail, into the woods. As JR started to jack up the car, the two other bikers followed us.

"They'll keep watch so we're not interrupted by the parkway police or some damned tourists" he said "unless you want more than I can give you. Look, we're not going to steal your car, we're not going to slit your throat, we're just going to have some fun".

I had been on the parkway "en queer" enough to know that gays and bikers got along without too many problems. Many of my gay friends told me about picking up and being picked up by bikers and none had anything but nice things to say about the encounters. So, fear wasn't at all what I was feeling at that moment. I was feeling the giddy excitement I usually feel before an encounter, and sometimes that does resemble fear, especially in my voice.

"I know" I said shyly, "I don't mind others watching, as a matter of fact I'm a bit of an exhibitionist".

"Well", he said, stopping at a bend in the trail, "let's see some of you then, let that exhibitionist hang out!"

I slipped the coveralls off, put the wig on, and steadied myself against a tree as I slipped the heels on, straightening up to meet his eyes.

"Godamn" he exclaimed "you're one hell of a hot looking bitch. If you suck cock half as good as you look, we're gonna have us a good time"