Looking out the large window in the lobby that overlooked the parking lot, I could see where the sound was coming from. There were four of them. Bikers. Bikers with huge, loud motorcycles. I didn’t know a thing about motorcycles, but I figured they had to be Harley’s as they roared into the parking lot.

I walked over to the bar area and the first thing I noticed was the looks of concern plastered over the faces of the two men who were still sitting there with their beers.

“Those two look worried. Is this trouble?” I asked Katie, who didn’t look nearly as nervous.

“Nah, they’re mostly harmless,” she told me, shrugging her shoulders.

“Mostly? That doesn’t give me a warm, fuzzy feeling. Who are they?”

“They’re the local chapter of The Sinners Syndicate.”

“A biker gang?”

“I’m pretty sure they prefer to be called a motorcycle club. They’re part of the main group out of Santa Fe.”

“You seem to know a lot about them. Do they come here often?”

“They drop in from time to time. They’re loud and obnoxious, but they typically have a few beers and leave.”

“Loud and obnoxious? Isn’t that bad for business?”

“Honey, the two guys at the bar. That’s the most business that we usually get in here.”

I don’t know why I was surprised. Whoever thought of putting a motel in the middle of nowhere deserved to be bankrupt. It just wasn’t a smart business decision. If the place were to ever come up for sale and I was charged with selling it, I’d recommend the new owners tear it down and start over with some sort of business that doesn’t rely on customers walking through the door. Maybe some sort of manufacturing or shipping warehouse.

Feeling uneasy, I debated whether or not I should just hightail it back to my room. Something stopped me, though. I don’t know if it was stupidity or morbid curiosity. I just wanted to see what happened next.

The roaring from the motorcycle engines stopped and seconds later, the front doors slammed open, almost as though the bikers kicked them instead of pushing them. All four of us were staring at the doors, waiting to see what was going to happen next.

That’s when I saw my first glimpse of a motorcycle club. The walked in like they owned the place, the hard, heavy, metal-tipped boots cracking against the floor, breaking the deafening silence that had developed.

Three of the bikers were close to six-foot tall. They were heavily tattooed, had long, unkempt hair, and unshaven, scraggly beards. If you were to look up the term stereotypical biker, I’m sure there pictures would be featured.

My eyes were immediately drawn to the fourth biker, who was walking in front of the three others. At least 6’5”, he had an aura around him. He was clearly the man that the other people followed behind, both literally and figuratively. He was definitely the leader.

The giant of a man had shorter hair than the other men, shorter hair, piercing blue eyes, and his short stubble told me he at least owned a razor.

“Katie!” one of the bikers yelled out.

“Have a seat sweetie, I’ll be with you guys in just a minute.”

Sweetie? I wondered if the two of them knew each other more than casually, but I wasn’t about to ask. Besides, it wasn’t really my business.

The men sat down and ordered a round of beers. Those beers were quickly followed by another four or five rounds and it didn’t look like they were anywhere close to being finished. With each round, they got louder and louder and rowdier and rowdier. The guys at the bar were visibly nervous, which seemed to be amusing the bikers. Eventually, they paid their tabs and walked out as quickly as they could, which drew plenty of jeers from the table.

No matter how hard I tried to mind my own business and focus on anything else in the bar, I couldn’t stop my eyes from staring at the giant of a biker over and over again. He had a presence that I’d never experienced before.

As loud as the group was, his voice carried above all the rest. He had a swagger about him and I could already tell that he was self-assured and cocky type. Every time he spoke, the others in his group would shut their mouths and hang on every word he said. They were in awe of him and it showed.

I was a little concerned about the bartender. Every time she took drinks over to their table, she had to put up with them making perverted comments and groping all over her. At first I thought she was putting on a good front when she smiled at them, but the more it happened, the more I realized how much she was enjoying the attention.

Motorcycle clubs have a notorious reputation and people always say you should stay far, far away from them. For some reason, I didn’t feel like I was in any danger at all. They weren’t making lewd comments at me like they were Katie. Every once in a while, one of them would send a look my way, but their eyes were usually focused on my tits and not my face. The fact that they were giving me any attention at all was quite flattering, really.

The bikers had only been there for about an hour, but they were completely shit-faced. I guess having a few beers and leaving wasn’t on the agenda that night. Now that they were all drunk, Katie was flirting with them all very openly. She walked over to one of them, whispered something into his ear and walked out of the bar towards the reception area.

He sat at the table for a few moments, looked around at his fellow bikers, got up and also started walking towards the reception area, sporting a huge smile on his face. I could only imagine what he had on his mind. The others paid no attention to him whatsoever.

I continued to sit at the bar, listening to the bikers tell crazy stories and nursing my sixth beer of the night. A few minutes later, those beers were working their way through my system and I needed to go to the bathroom. I held it for as long as I could because I remembered Steve always telling me that once you broke the seal, you’d be in the bathroom over and over for the rest of the night.

Sliding off my barstool, I tried to casually walk out of the bar area, but I started stumbling almost as soon as my feet hit the floor. Whenever consuming alcohol, I never usually have more than one or two so the six I had left me feeling more than a little lightheaded.

I walked along the wall, praying that the bikers wouldn’t be able to tell I was using it to hold myself up as I slipped out of the bar and finally made my way to the restroom.

Relieved that I’d finally made it and eager to relieve myself, I opened the door and was stopped dead in my tracks. The biker was standing in the center of the room, looking me right in the eyes. It freaked me out and I didn’t know what to say. Do I say hello? What’s up? Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here? What’s the protocol for something like this.

Surprisingly, I didn’t initially notice that he and I weren’t in the restroom by ourselves. When I looked down towards the floor, I saw Katie on her knees right in front of him. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and felt like I couldn’t move.

I’m far from a prude. I’ve even watched porn with Steve pretty recently in hopes that it would improve our sex life, but seeing this unfold in front of me was shocking to me. I felt like I was hypnotized. Seeing the bartender’s head sliding up and down as she took the biker’s cock deep into her throat was so surreal.

Frozen in place, the biker continued staring at me, even grinning while looking straight into my eyes.

“You like what you see?” he asked as he grabbed the back of her head and started thrusting his hips, fucking her mouth, gagging her in the process?

“Sorry,” I replied as I slowly backed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

Standing outside the door, I found myself breathless. I felt like I should have been horrified by what I’d just witnessed, but I wasn’t. I was fairly innocent when it came to sexual experiences, but I was completely aroused and completely fascinated to have witnessed such an unadulterated act of pure sexual release.

Little did anyone know, but I’d actually fantasized about a very similar situation in the past. My sex life with Steve had become dull. When it had gotten to the point that I had to get myself off, I’d often closed my eyes and pictured a stranger taking me in a public restroom and fucking my brains out.

Things like that never happen to me, but did I ever wish they did.

I couldn’t believe I was thinking that way. It had to just be the beer talking. Oh well, I was going to let them finish before trying to use the restroom again. I could have just gone to my room, but I chose to go back to the bar to drink another beer. With my state of arousal, there was no way I wasn’t going to sit around to see what happened next.