Iron Disciples MC 1 Joy Ride (3 page)

It was easy to tell that he was as
hard as a rock what with the bulge his erection was creating
against his pants. It looked like they would tear at the seams any
second just to make room for the thing. I laughed and slid down the
bike until I was sharing the seat with him, our faces inches away
from each other.

“Is this what you want, you big bad
outlaw?” I whispered, my breath must have been sticky and sweet
against the rough stubbly skin of his face.

My hand was going over the bulge in
his pants, massaging up and down the length of it, while the other
was sneakily undoing his zipper. Our faces were as close as two
faces could be now without actually touching. I could feel the
humidity of his breath against my lips, his breathing loud and
heavy in anticipation. Finally, I had the zipper down and his
erection came forcefully popping out into the moonlight as if it
had been suffocating inside of his pants. It was just like the rest
of his body – long and thick, and strikingly handsome.

“I’m the outlaw here,” he said and put
his rough hands around the back of my head and dragged me down
towards his waiting cock. It met my lips and penetrated into my
mouth, pressing hard against the back of my throat. It took every
ounce of willpower I had not to gag on the thing. I would like to
say that I started to get to work on his member, but the truth was
that he was doing most of the work. He had a crude grip on the back
of my head and was moving my mouth up and down the length of his
cock with a raw sort of ease. When he would guide my head towards
his pelvis on the downward movement, he would flex his hips and
push them up to meet my face halfway there. I could feel it pushing
into my throat with each thrust, but I was able to maintain my
resolve and not choke. My eyes were beginning to water though, and
my nostrils were filling with nothing but his natural manly scent
tinged with that familiar leather and gas smell that seemed to
cling to him. He pushed down once more, this time the hardest and
the deepest yet, and I thought that I finally might not be able to
withstand it. I could feel myself start to gag, feel the saliva
back up and start to roll down my lip, and then he pulled my face
up and off of his cock and looked me square in the eye with the
demeanor of a hungry wolf.

“I want to take you right here, right
now.”

“But… we just met.”

“I asked you if you were sure about
this… and you said you were. And here you are, out here in the
middle of nowhere with your pants around your ankles and making a
sticky mess all over my damn bike. Now you tell me again this is
what you want to do.”

“I want you so badly right now… but
here?”

He didn’t say anything else. He slid
off the side of the motorcycle and dragged me off, bending me over
the seat and twisting a handful of panties out of the way. I had
verbalized my reluctance, of course, but physically I was giving
all the signs of a go ahead, raising my hips and ass up to meet him
welcomingly. I felt I had to show some reluctance, like this was
all just some kind of game. I laid there over the seat, my chest
rising and falling, waiting as I looked out over the edge of the
cliff and down into the dark forest below. And then he took
me.

Like some kind of possessed animal, he
ravaged me. The bike was rocking perilously with each thrust of his
hips and I was afraid that the kickstand wouldn’t hold up and the
whole thing would go tumbling onto its side beneath the repeated
blitz of his powerful thrusts. He was leaned over me, his strong
hands with a dominant grip on my shoulders, pulling me hard towards
himself each time he would push his hips forward, ramming his
iron-stiff manhood deep inside of me again and again.

That’s how my night ended up then. On
the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere, in the dark of
night, bent over a Harley and getting mercilessly fucked from
behind by an outlaw biker. I wouldn’t have predicted that one in a
million years, but I certainly wasn’t complaining. Johnny had the
staying power of a horse… among other horse-like attributes. There
was no letting up from him, no sign of fatigue. The longer he went
on, he just seemed to pick up even more steam. His grip became more
powerful, his thrusts harder and deeper, his pace quicker and
quicker. And not in the sense that he was getting close to
finishing either. He was simply consumed with some kind of carnal
ferocity that just kept building upon itself.

I wasn’t sure how much more of it I
could take. He already had me on my tip toes, my fingers curling
rigidly around the chrome exhaust pipes of the bike, my head was
twisting back and I should have been able to see the stars, but I
was getting so close to orgasm that I didn’t see much of anything
except flashes of white hot light out the corners of my eyes, began
to hear the strange familiar music playing somewhere off in the
nowhere distance as if time was standing still – and then my entire
body shook violently as the orgasm ripped through me. I howled a
rapturous screech into the empty night sky, grasped the
motorcycle’s exhaust desperately, my grip tightening around it
reflexively and involuntarily. I felt Johnny pull himself out of
me, release his vice grip on my shoulders, and then I heard him
grunt and felt the warm splatter of his seed on my naked perspiring
ass cheeks.

I let go of my grip on the exhaust
pipes and slumped limply over the motorcycle seat, my fingers
barely tracing against the dusty ground. Johnny had one hand on the
handlebar of his bike now and the other on the small of my back.
Both of us were breathing heavily and sweating profusely. When we
had caught our breath, we cleaned up, pulled our clothes back on
and went to sit at the edge of the cliff. I had my knees up to my
chest and was leaning with my back against the metal railing,
looking up at the stars.

“I’ll take you home whenever you’re
ready,” Johnny said.

“Alright. Thanks.”

His eyes were closed, resting, and I
took the opportunity to examine him for a moment – the muscular,
athletic figure, sharp jaw and charming looks and the sex-messed
hair swept back out of his eyes, all dressed out like an outlaw.
Heavy gold rings on his fingers and tattoos… the leather kutte. I
examined the kutte for a moment.

“What’s that patch mean?” I
asked.

He opened his eyes. “Which
one?”

I reached my hand out and traced my
finger over a patch that sported a tiny skull in between the words
“Heinous Handful”.

“That one? What do you think it
means?”

“Well, I mean… I’ve heard
things.”

He sat up now, a half-amused look on
his face. “Oh yeah? What kinds of things?”

“That it’s only given to people who
have killed for the club.”

He put his hand on my shoulder.
“That’s just a rumor. The club ain’t like that. That’s just jealous
people and gossip hounds with nothing better to do than try and
ruin our reputation.”

I sat quietly for a moment. Obviously
I wasn’t buying that.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” I broke
the silence.

He paused for a moment, as if he
weren’t sure what to say, then looked me in the eye.

“No.” He leaned forward and kissed me
lightly on the lips. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

I stopped him. “I don’t know if I want
to go back to David’s.”

“Wh… nah, I won’t ask. Look, there’s
always a few free beds at the clubhouse if you want to stay
there.”

I thought about it for a second.
“Okay.”

Anything would have been better than
seeing that dirtbag right now.

*

The clubhouse was an interesting
place. It was for the most part a large barroom, but there were
also a bunch of guest-type bedrooms connected as well. There was
also a whole back section that Johnny told me was off limits to
anyone but patched in members of the club, but the rest of the
place was alright for most people that were even just loosely
affiliated with the club.

“We have a pretty good rule of thumb
here,” he said. “If you can walk in here without getting your ass
beat, you’re probably good to go.”

That only made me wonder what it took
to warrant a beating around here. I didn’t have much time to ponder
it though. It was getting late and I was getting tired. Johnny led
me to one of the bedrooms and fetched a blanket out of a large
closet.

“Don’t worry about anything. Nobody’ll
bother you in here. Get some sleep and I’ll see you in the
morning.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I was out before my head even hit the
pillow.

*

I didn’t wake up until very late the
next morning. I came crawling out into the main barroom area of the
clubhouse rubbing my eyes groggily and yawning, and was greeted to
the sight of a handful of the Iron Disciples sitting around the bar
shooting the breeze. Big Sam & Little Sam, Hard-on Terry, and
Bug Brain were the ones I recognized, but there were a couple
others as well that I hadn’t been formally introduced to yet. When
they saw me, Hard-on Terry put his hand over his mouth and squealed
with laughter.

“Which one of you dogs bagged the
writer’s girl last night!?”

My face flushed red with
embarrassment. I wanted to retreat back into the bedroom and crawl
under the blanket, or just make a run for the door.

“Shut up, idiot.” I heard Johnny’s
voice call out from the other end of the room, coming out of the
off-limits back area. “She just needed a place to stay last
night.”

“Alright, Johnny. Alright.” He quit
talking, but he poked the grinning Iron Disciple next to him
knowingly in the ribs all the same.

“You want some coffee, sweetheart?
Just put on a fresh pot,” said Bug Brain, waving me
over.

“Okay,” I said. I made my way over to
the bar countertop and pulled up a stool. Bug Brain poured me a mug
of coffee and slid it across the counter to me. I had barely raised
the coffee mug to my lips when the doors to the clubhouse were
thrown open harshly. Everyone’s heads jerked towards the direction
of the entrance, just in time to see David storming
through.

“Where the fuck is Johnny!?” David
yelled, his face red with anger and his fists clinched into tight
little balls.

“I’m right here, Davie,” Johnny said,
holding a pool cue in his hands. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re damn right there’s a
problem.”

All of the Iron Disciples in the room
stood up from their bar stools and chairs at that. David didn’t
seem to even notice. He pointed towards me.

“That’s
my
fucking girl, Johnny. You knew
that. You rode off with her anyway.” He turned his attention to me.
“Did you fuck him, Hannah? Did you?”

My face turned completely red for the
second time in the last five minutes. I didn’t say
anything.

David turned his attention back to
Johnny. “I’m going to fucking kill you, man.”

That was all it took. The bikers fell
upon him like a pride of lions on a gazelle. They were punching him
with those stone heavy fists, kicking him in the ribs. I could hear
the loud crunches of their heavy rings digging into his flesh with
each punch. Johnny had thrown his pool cue down now and was yelling
as the Iron Disciples went to town on David.

“You aren’t a member of
this club, Davie! You fucking remember that! We
tolerate
you hanging
around!”

I couldn’t even see David now, just a
mass of leather bodies all crowded around him, fists coming up and
then crashing back down with heavy thuds. I was crying now, tears
streaming down my face and I began screaming. “No! No! Stop! Not
like this!”

Johnny had heard me apparently.
“That’s enough, boys.”

Slowly, the bikers backed away from
David. Bug Brain and Little Sam helped him to his feet, tried to
straighten out his clothes, but he flailed like an embarrassed
child on a temper tantrum to get them to quit touching him. He
looked bad. His faced was all cut up and bloodied, his hair strewn
over the place, and somehow his shirt had ripped at the shoulder
seam.

Johnny pointed at him with a thick
ring-laden finger. “You’re lucky the girl was here,
Davie.”

David spit blood and looked at him
half-angry and half-embarrassed.

Johnny just kept talking. “Now, I
don’t know what you did to her… but you ever show your face here or
bother her again… well, I’m not gonna call off the dogs next time.
You understand that? Oh, and you can forget about your fucking
book. Now get out of here.”

David spit again and then turned and
slinked out of the clubhouse with his tail between his legs. Just
like that, as if someone had snapped their fingers, the atmosphere
in the club went back to normal, as if nothing had even
happened.

“Coffee’s getting cold, sweetheart.”
It was Bug Brain.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said. I wiped
the tears from my eyes with my sleeve and spun back around in the
stool, picking up the coffee mug and taking a sip.