My boots are heavy, wet from pulling the body from the lake. I trudge into my house, kicking my boots off as I go. I sit down, exhausted, but wanting relief. I needed to fuck—fuck hard—but there’s no pussy in sight. I clench my teeth, pick up a smoke and light it. It brings some relief, but not what I want or need. Two weeks without sex has me wound up tightly. I was off guard and let the man pull me into the river. Yes, he was a paid job, though he would have gone out easier if he’d stopped talking.
I lean back on my couch, wondering what the fuck I’m doing. How the fuck did I get to this place in my life? How did I become one of the darkest people I know? I shake my head, running my hand through my beard, trying to disperse those thoughts. I look out the window—a motorbike is pulling in. More than likely it’s Jake to take me to the clubhouse for pussy and business. I was down for pussy, just not the business part.
My house is two stories, it’s old, standing on stilts, surrounded by acres of land. I bought this house for next to nothing. It’s in a good position, value for money, especially if you had the cash. Which I did. The furniture’s plain and the inside the house smells fresh. I hired a bunch of neighborhood kids to graffiti it. Color lines the walls from my kitchen to my living room. It’s bright, beautiful—and all the things I’m not.
The hard knock comes from the front door. I stand, ridding my suit jacket as I walk, leaving me in just my black slacks and white shirt. I walk a few feet to the door and swing it open. Jake smiles, then taps my back as he makes his way straight to my fridge. His vest is displayed proudly. Vice President badge on his chest, the other states ‘Coffin Soldiers’. They’re our local MC. They’re large, chapters all over Australia and around the world.
“Fucking some sweet ass pussy tonight, my brother?” He lifts the beer, touching his lips, and he downs the whole thing. Not stopping until it’s gone, and then he throws it in the sink, smashing the glass bottle. He looks me up and down, laughing when he sees I’m still wet from my unexpected swim in the fucking lake.
“You went for a swim? In your clothes?” he questions me. I shake my head. He knows better than anyone why I’d be wet, and it wouldn’t be from fucking swimming, that’s for sure.
I enter my bedroom, the only place inside the house that’s pitch black, not an ounce of color anywhere, not even in my wardrobe. I throw my socks to the floor, then my pants and my shirt are next. I’m dressed in exactly what I was wearing before, but now clean and dry.
He’s on the second beer when I walk back out. Something’s bothering him, this much I know. I also know he won’t say a word until he’s good and ready. He does the same with that bottle, smashing it in the sink when he’s done. His dark hair, almost as dark as mine, is pulled roughly through his hands. I grab my keys, and he doesn’t say a word when he follows me out the door, slamming it behind him. There’s no need to lock it. No one would be stupid enough to break in here anyway.
Our bikes purr loudly as we ride side by side for the ten minutes it takes to arrive at the clubhouse. The sky’s dark, and it reminds me of a night I want to forget.
I close my eyes. Squeeze them tight for a second, making the thoughts disappear. Pulling up, loud noises occupy the yard. The clubhouse is situated behind what looks like a beautiful, well-kept home. But at the back, the back is dangerous and anything but. It’s on acreage—acres and acres of bad, bad property where horrific things occur.
Members all wear their cuts. The bar is situated in the open back shed and has strippers on the tables. They’re all naked and looking high as kites. Jake keeps walking, going straight to the Pres, and I follow. Other chapters are here tonight. Outsiders like me that don’t wear a cut are not supposed to be here. Club members only. But the Pres, well, I do things for the Pres that keeps his hands untarnished. Keeps the club looking clean.
The law is strict around here. If you’re a biker, you get locked up. You associate with a biker, you get locked up. It’s easier for them to be as clean as possible, but still do the dirty on the side. Not all members know who I am, and I’m fine with that. Only this chapter, the ones that rule my town, know who I am and what I’m capable of.
“Boy,” Pres calls out—also known as Gray—calling Jake to him. Pres is in his late forties. He has a naked and fake silicone bitch on each leg. He looks to me and nods, then back to a prospect. Jake walks over, leans down, and the Pres whispers in his ear. I don’t care and just sit on a seat that’s free, a beer placed straight into my hand. The prospect smiles awkwardly and moves away quickly. It would have stung him to be in my vicinity too long. They all know of me, what I am capable of.
I can feel eyes looking at me, evaluating me. I lean back and look around, not moving from my spot. The eyes that are on me are another President’s—his cut proudly patched with the President badge. He assesses me, dropping his head to the side and smiles. I don’t return the favor.
“You new?” he asks, looking around. He’s making a point that no strangers are allowed in the clubroom. I don’t answer and it seems to irk him more.
“You deaf boy?” he yells, standing up, his men come to a standstill. I can feel the movements stop even though I can’t see them all. Gray looks past Jake’s shoulder and watches what’s happening. He shakes his red head and stands. He’s built, and a firecracker. He’d be calm and cool one minute, then the next he’d have a knife at your throat.
“Grover, don’t start,” he says and then looks around. “You boys getting some pussy or what?” he shouts, reaching for one of the silicone Barbies on his chair, pulling her up and squeezing her tit hard. Grover looks at me, his eyes trying to work me out. I want to ask him if he has and to let me know, but he just smiles and gets up and walks away.
Jake comes back over once I’m on my third beer and ready to go. The pussy here is not what I’m after. They’re all high, sucking on any dick that moves. He smacks the back of my head, then points to a brunette sitting out in the bushes. I can just make out her hair from where I’m sitting. She’s half-clothed, more so than any of the other girls that are here.
“Try to hit that,” he says, nodding his head toward the girl. I stand, hoping she isn’t a club whore who’s been passed around. I want something different tonight, a challenge.
My boots are loud with each step I take as they hit the pavement. I’m waiting for her head to turn around and tell me to fuck off. She does neither. I walk until I’m directly in front of her. She looks up at me. She’s beautiful—not stop your breath beautiful, but still beautiful. She squints at me while looking me over. I do the same. She has on shorts so short I swear I can see her pussy popping out.
“You a biker?” she asks. Her lip lifts in disgust, so I shake my head.
“You want me?” she asks, standing up. I look her up and down. She has a nice rack, her tits are plump, and her curves are round. I nod my head, and she looks back to the party. Unsure of what to do.
“Okay,” she says, and that’s all the permission I need. I grab her arm. She yelps at my tight grip, but I don’t loosen it. Her steps are quick and fast, trying to keep up with me as I walk into the garage where they have makeshift rooms. Heading to the one I use when I’m here, I push her in and slam the door behind me. I trap her in, sick thoughts start running through my brain. I shake my head to clear them and look up to watch her undressing. She’s fast. I’m right—she has nothing underneath those pants.
When she’s fully naked, she takes a few steps toward me. I undo my belt, dropping it to the floor when all I want to do is tie her up so she can’t move. I grab my cock, pulling it free from my pants. She looks down and flushes, a smile taking over her face. Removing the condom from my pocket, I slide it on easily like I’ve done hundreds of times before. She closes the distance, reaching for my shirt. I grab her wrist with my free hand, spinning her around, keeping her wrist in my hand and pinning it to her back. I push her forward. Her ass right in front of me. She wiggles, making me harder.
“Please,” she begs. I position, tease, and then slam. The relief of being so deep, and feeling the squeeze, is like ecstasy. I slam into her again and she takes it. Her hands are still tied behind her back.
“More,” she asks. I use my free hand to grab her hip, then continue my destruction, her pussy milking my cock. It feels good, so fucking good.
When I come, I push her forward. She lands on her face but doesn’t say a word. I remove the condom and throw it to the floor. Tuck myself back in and grab my belt. Before I put it back on, I think about tying her up with it and trapping her in place. But then I hear a scream, the scream of a woman.