by Gemma Weir
I know what a woman sees when she looks at me. I’m not a vain motherfucker. I don’t spend hours in the mirror staring at myself, but I know that I have the type of face and body that make panties wet. Sure, I’ve met women that aren’t interested in me, but most of the time they turn out to be lesbians.
Riley is hot and I mean smoking hot: long brown hair, fairly tall, athletic build, and wearing those naughty secretary glasses. Hell, yeah, she’s hot as fuck. But from the moment she opened her mouth, I feel like I’ve been off my game. I expect the comments about how big I am, how tall and muscled. I work hard for this body, always have. My workout is the same as it was when I was playing football and now rather than it being a necessity to be fit enough to play, I use it as a stress relief and a way to clear my mind. There’s just something mindless about being at the gym and sweating out all of my bullshit.
If she’d wanted to reach up and feel my muscles, I’d have been fine. Hell, I’ve had the first words out of a woman’s mouth be ‘lift up your shirt, so I can lick your abs’ on more than one occasion. But never, not ever in my entire life, has a hot woman asked if I have to get my clothes from a Big and Tall store.
What pisses me off even more, is that I don’t even know if she’s insulting me. Then she fucking compared me to some character from a comic or a fucking T.V. show. What did she say it was? The Umbrella Academy? Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I type it into the search bar, then open the Wikipedia link that takes me to a bio for the show. It’s about superheroes or some shit. As I scroll down to the bit about the characters, my eyes stop on the ape man guy she was talking about. He’s fucking huge and hairy as fuck. I’m not hairy!
What the hell is this bitch’s problem? Plus, she used my real name! I’m gonna kill Rosie for telling her. There are only a handful of people that get away with calling me Justin, and Riley isn’t one of them. She doesn’t even know me.
Well fuck her. She’s not that hot and there’s plenty more pussy at the club: hot, wet, and just waiting for me to get there. I’m not gonna let one stuck up hot geek get to me.
When we get to the club, I jump out the car the moment we stop, not even bothering to wave to Park before I walk away. Pushing open the doors, the crowd seems to have doubled from when we left, and the room is packed wall to wall. The music’s booming, but I still throw my arms above my head and shout “I’m back, bitches,” as loudly as I can.
The people around me cheer, raising their glasses and bottles into the air. This is it; this is my life and I fucking love it. Stepping into the melee of people, a woman instantly appears at my side, her hand sliding across my chest as she looks up at me from beneath her thick fake eyelashes.
“Hey, sexy,” she coos.
“Hey, baby,” I reply, dropping my arm across her shoulders and pulling her into my side.
“I’m Kitty.”
“Well hello, little kitty-cat; let’s get you a drink.”
She giggles, pushing herself even closer to me as I lead us through the crowd and toward the bar. I don’t wait to be served. I just reach over and grab four bottles of beer, then head toward the seats at the back of the room where I can see a few of my single brothers are seated.
I love Park, Daisy, Blade, and Echo, I really fucking do, but there’s only so much time you can spend with a group of couples. There’s so much eye-fucking and sexual tension between them, that I swear I’m gonna end up pregnant next.
No, tonight, I need to be around guys who all just want what I want. To party, to drink, and to get their dicks sucked by a stranger they never have to see again. The girl whose name I’ve already forgotten is still wrapped around me like a vine as I move through the room and sink into a deep leather couch opposite K.C., Flip, and Erickson.
The girl immediately climbs into my lap, her legs spread wide as she straddles me. She’s wearing a tight skirt that rises, so that me, as well as everyone else, can now see the tiny string thong she’s got on and the creamy white globes of her ass.
“Kitty, you here again?” Flip asks, and the girl on my lap turns her head to look over her shoulder.
“Hey, Flip,” she says, then turns her attention back to me and leans in to kiss me.
I turn my head to the side, so her lips land on my jaw, but she doesn’t falter. She kisses along my jaw and around to my ear, where she tugs at the lobe with her teeth.
I let her continue, barely paying any attention and speak to my brothers. “Where the fuck did all these people come from?” I ask.
“Fuck knows, seems like there’s a lot of new pussy in here tonight though,” K.C. says, his eyes scanning the crowd like a predator.
“You got something special you fancy on the menu tonight?” I ask, as the girl starts to grind her pussy against my lap. My dick isn’t even twitching, exhibitionism isn’t something that turns me on. I like to fuck, but I don’t need anyone to be watching to get off and right now this bitch trying to dry hump my dick is doing absolutely nothing for me.
I look over my shoulder to where Flip is sitting and find his eyes fixed firmly on her ass and where her thong is, I’m guessing, wet. I’m assuming by his greeting to her that they’ve probably fucked. I don’t care, my brothers all wrap their dicks and so do I. I couldn’t give a fuck that one of my brothers had his dick in her, she’s not mine.
Leaning down, I whisper into her ear. “Flip’s watching you; he can see how wet you are. Is that for me, or because you’ve got an audience?”
“Both,” she whispers back.
“You could give them a show. Get yourself all wet and ready for me, then I’ll take you outside and you can ride my dick until you scream.”
I can hear her raspy inhale and I know she’s so hot I could probably blow on her and make her come. She slides off my lap, then leans forward, her legs together, her ass bare and pushed out toward the guys opposite us. Her lips touch my cheek, then she straightens, turns around and sits back down in my lap, her legs spread wide, her thong covered pussy open to the appraising eyes of my brothers.
Flip looks up and his eyes catch mine. There’s a heat in his and I know he wants me to pass her over to him. Where I don’t like an audience, Flip loves it. An exhibitionist through and through, I’ve seen him bend a woman over the bar right there surrounded by partygoers and just whip his dick out and go to town. He has zero inhibitions and right now the show that she’s about to give him is driving him crazy.
She hooks her one leg across mine and starts to ride my thigh, grinding her pussy against my jeans as she moans out her approval. Her hand slides across her bare thigh, then between her legs. She drops her head back onto my chest so I can watch as her fingers delve beneath the fabric of her thong and start to circle and rub at her clit.
Her hips are moving, rubbing her core against me as her fingers tease at her clit. She moans softly, and I feel the anticipation of her rising orgasm as her muscles tense and her back arches, pushing her shoulders harder into my chest.
Her mouth parts when she dips a finger lower and penetrates herself. Then she rises and falls, slowly riding her own hand. Her other hand drops into her lap and she rubs at her clit while she moves the hand between her legs lower and I see three fingers disappear. She stops grinding on my leg and focuses on fucking herself with her fingers, sliding up and down on them as her head falls back.
I hadn’t realized he’d moved until Flip is above me. His hands dip to the girl’s waist and he rips her thong so we can all watch as she fucks herself with her fingers. He quickly lowers himself back down to his seat and lifts his beer to his lips as he settles in for the show.
The girl is panting and moaning as she buries her fingers deeper into her cunt, almost fisting herself as she bounces up and down and rubs at her clit. I feel the moment her orgasm hits, when her body tenses and she cries out, still slamming her fingers in and out of her cunt as she rides out the pleasure. Eventually her movements still and she relaxes against my chest, her fingers still buried deep inside herself.
/> “Thanks for the show, baby,” I whisper against her ear. “Now go get yourself cleaned up.”
She slowly twists to look up at me. “I thought you wanted me to ride your dick?” she purrs.
“Nah, I think I’m good,” I say, winking at her to soften the rejection.
Her brow furrows like she doesn’t understand. She opens her mouth to speak, but Flip’s voice stops her.
“Do you know how good it would feel if I fucked your ass while you fucked your kitty with your fingers, little pussy cat?”
She looks to me again, as if she’s expecting me to object, but I just smile. Her show was entertaining and all, but my desire to fuck her has all but evaporated. She looks back to Flip and licks her lips. He smiles at her and she pulls her hand from between her legs and rises to standing. Flip immediately drops an arm across her shoulders and leads her away, glancing over his shoulder and blowing me a kiss just before they move around the corner and disappear from sight.
“What the fuck is up with you?” K.C. demands, staring at me as if I’ve grown a second head. “That girl was practically panting for you and you just gave her to Flip. What the fuck?”
“Wasn’t feeling it. I’ll pick another out later. Right now, I just want to sit and enjoy a beer with my brothers for a while,” I say, raising my bottle into the air.
K.C. snorts and shakes his head. “Pussy comes too easy for you, brother, if you’re pushing off wet and down to fuck ones without a care. I can’t wait until you find a golden cunt that won’t give you the time of day.”
“Fuck and you,” I say flipping him the middle finger, then tipping my bottle back and finishing the last of it. The music swells and my eyes are drawn to the patch of floor that’s become a makeshift dance floor. About ten women fill the space, their hands in the air, their bodies moving to the music. I recognize a few of them and then I spot Rosie, her red hair making her impossible to miss, and next to her is Riley. Her hands are at her neck, lifting her hair up with her fingers as she slowly pushes her hands into the air and lets her head fall back, lost in the rhythm. Her hips are swaying, her ass high and tight and round moving to the beat. She’s in tight jeans and a red shirt. It’s not as provocative as most of the other women here tonight, but just the glimpse of her tits beneath the wrap front is a tease.
She’s not paying attention to the crowd around her, she’s lost in the music. She smiles, then dips her head to Rosie and says something to her. Both women start to laugh and for a split-second I’m mesmerized. Then I remember that she’s a bitch and I force myself to look away.
I do my best not to look for her again. I don’t know if it’s because she didn’t react to me that I’m so wound up, or that I’m just not used to being around someone that doesn’t know me and is so openly hostile, but something about her bothers me.
I’m agitated. I don’t remember the last time I felt like this, but I need to burn off some energy, and on a Friday night in a room full of bikers, and bitches that like to fuck bikers, sex is the most obvious solution.
Scanning the crowd for something that tickles my fancy, again my eyes fall on Riley. She’s stood near the bar with Rosie and Dove, chatting animatedly about something. My dick surges to life. What the fuck?! Forcing my eyes to move on, I spot a sexy, curvy brunette only ten feet from Riley. She’s new, or at least new to me, and before I make the conscious decision to do it, I’m on my feet and skirting my way through the packed room.
I try not to look, but I can’t help myself. Glancing to my right, my eyes lock with Riley’s and she straightens, then narrows her eyes at me angrily. I glare right back at her, never looking away until I reach the brunette’s side. When I get there, I lean down and whisper into her ear. She spins to face me and the moment she looks up, I know she wants me, they all do. It’s almost too easy, and something makes me glance back to the only available woman in the room who isn’t interested. Riley’s still looking at me, and I wink at her, right before I lean down again and place a light kiss against the brunette’s neck.
“You ready?” I ask her.
She nods and reaches for my hand. I smile at her, turn, and take one last look at Riley, then lead the brunette out of the club and into my truck. We go to her place. Two hours later I can still feel Riley’s gaze on me.
Oh my god!!
My eyes feel like they’re glued together, there’s something sticking in the side of my face and I think I might be dead. In the split-second that it takes me to discover I’m unfortunately still alive, everything that happened last night floods into my mind.
Going to a biker club, telling Rosie she was a lucky bitch for having a guy with an accent, dancing and drinking and dancing some more. Justin leaving with a girl that I swear had just arrived with a different guy only five minutes before. Riding on the back of a guy called Lord’s bike and then nearly falling off the back of Lord’s bike when I tried to do the flying thing from Titanic without Leonardo DiCaprio behind me to stop me from falling off.
Shit, I’m a sloppy drunk.
My head feels like someone is banging on it with a sledgehammer, and I’m not entirely sure where I am. Slapping at my eyes with my hands, I discover that the thing that’s sticking into my face is in fact my glasses. I pull them off, dropping them next to me and carefully rub at my eyes until I feel brave enough to open them and let the world back in again.
Without my glasses the room is blurred, but even through my fuzzy vision I still know that this isn’t my bedroom at home, or my hotel room. Oh crap, am I alone? Carefully, I roll onto my back and my heart starts beating again when I realize that the rest of the bed is empty and unslept in. Thank God. Pushing my glasses back onto my face, I look around me and see framed pictures of Rosie and Taylor on graduation day and another of a huge group, me included, smiling back at the camera, all young and fresh-faced.
Climbing out of bed, I glance down at the t-shirt and short pjs I’m wearing. I’m guessing they’re Rosie’s, but I have no memory of putting them on or getting into bed. Opening the door into the rest of the apartment, I spot Rosie curled into a ball on the couch, a blanket pulled up to her chin, while Park is in the kitchen looking as fresh as a fucking daisy.
“Morning,” he calls when he spots me.
I grunt, incapable of speech. Rosie lifts her head off the couch to look at me, then promptly drops her head back down and grunts to me in reply. Crossing the room, I climb onto the couch next to her feet and pull the blanket over me too, lying my head down at the opposite end to hers.
“Look at the state of you pair,” Park says with a snicker. Crossing the room, he places two cups of coffee on the table in front of us. “Coffee will sort you both out. Sorry, Riley, I didn’t know how you took it, but by the looks of you I think black is probably your best bet today.”
I try to nod, but the movement makes my head hurt even more, so I try not to make any sudden movements, reach for the coffee and bring it to my lips, trying not to spill it down Rosie’s t-shirt. Park walks away laughing lightly then returns a moment later with a bottle of Advil. Shaking two out, he passes them to me, then does the same for Rosie. She doesn’t move and with a laugh, Park kneels down beside the couch and gently pushes her hair back from her face.
“Come on, you wee drunken monkey. Sit up, get some coffee down you, and take some Advil. You’ll feel better once breakfast comes.”
Rosie doesn’t say a word, and for a moment I think she’s either ignoring him or she’s gone back to sleep. Then she uncovers her arms from under the blanket and Park takes them, lifting her easily into an upright position, before handing her the tablets and her coffee.
It’s ten minutes later before either of us speaks again. “What the fuck did we drink last night?” she rasps.
“I have no idea, but apparently we drank a lot of it. I haven’t felt this hungover since college.”
“I don’t remember getting home,” she admits, finally turning her head and looking at me.
“Me neither, I had to
check I was in bed alone,” I say.
She smiles, then starts to laugh, quickly stopping and grabbing her head. “Arggh, my head.”
I try to nod and agree, but my head is killing me too, so I close my eyes tight and try to ignore the rolling of my stomach. When the door flies open, banging into the wall with a loud crash, we both groan in unison.
“Watch the fucking wall,” Park shouts to whoever is being incredibly fucking noisy.
“Sorry, my bad,” a deep voice says. “I keep forgetting there’s a wall there now.”
“Did you bring the food?” Park asks.
“Course, can’t beat a breakfast sub.” The voice says.
Whoever it is sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it, and honestly, I don’t really care who it is as long as they shut up and stop talking.
“Fuck, the state of these two.” The voice says, full of amusement.
“Fuck off, Justin,” Rosie growls.
Justin. Oh hell, it would have to be him wouldn’t it? I can’t deal with douchebag when I’m this hungover. Forcing my eyes to open, I look up at him. He seems even bigger in the daylight, practically filling the entire apartment.
“Wow, sis, you’re sassy when you’re hungover,” he says, lowering himself into a chair and dropping a large paper bag onto the table.
The couch depresses and I open my eyes just wide enough to see Park scoop Rosie up and then settle back down in her spot, placing her into his lap. “Rosebud, you need to eat, then you can nap,” he says.
She grunts, then nods, holding out her hands. Park chuckles then reaches into the paper bag and pulls something wrapped in waxed paper and foil and places it in her hands.
“You too, Riley, eat. Some breakfast grease will sort you right out,” he says, offering an identically wrapped package to me.
I take it and slowly unwrap it, my hands uncoordinated and shaking slightly. The smell of bacon and warm bread hits me, and I sigh. Within minutes, we each have a breakfast sub and the room is silent except for the sounds of rustling papers.
