Size King

by S. C. Adams

  “Awesome!” says Dustin. “Well, I got to see Megan here in action during her shift just the other day. I’ve got to say, she’s quite good at her job. I feel safe leaving my bike in your care after having dealt with Megan behind the counter.”

  I am flattered, although I’m amused by how his review feels so “professional” in how he speaks.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “You’re quite welcome,” he says. “You know you’re good, right?”

  “Oh, I know I’m good,” I say back.

  “You girls like working at Ultra-Cycle?” he asks.

  “I love the work we do to be honest,” I say. “It’s fun.”

  “You like working for Jacob?” he wonders.

  Considering what we’ve just been talking about, I feel compelled to be honest, and yet, I decide to hold my tongue, as does Kelsey.

  “It can be a bit excessive at times,” I answer vaguely. “What do you do when you’re not getting your motorcycles fixed?”

  “I do a lot,” he answers vaguely. “I’ve got my fingers in a lot of pies—as the saying I goes, I think.”

  “Well, what brings you by here?” I ask stupidly. “I mean, I guess you’re here to eat.”

  “No, I came here for an eye appointment,” he answers humorously. “You know when the doctor will get here?”

  “You might have to wait a while,” I quip. “I think they might be giving massages in the back, happy endings included.”

  “Sounds great!” he says. “I can order some pancakes and eggs and really start my afternoon right!”

  “They’re given by the male cooks,” I joke.

  “Oh… well, in that case, I’ll hold off.” He laughs. “In the meantime, I guess I’ll go find myself a seat and watch the John Wayne movie they have playing over there. Sorry if I interrupted your meal.”

  “Not at all!” I say. “It was good seeing you.”

  “Listen,” he says. “If you aren’t busy, do you think maybe we could get dinner together tomorrow night? Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

  “Well, I do work tomorrow,” I say.

  “What about after work?” he asks with haste.

  “I’m not sure if I’m free,” I fib. I’m just playing hard to get.

  “Well, do you know when you might be free next?” he persists.

  “No, my schedule really is sporadic,” I say. “I’m not sure. Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t care,” he says. “As long as it’s with you.”

  “I still have your number,” I say with a wink.

  “All right then,” he says. “Then, give me a call sometime. Call me next time you’re free. My schedule is sporadic too, but it’s flexible.”

  “I can be flexible, too,” I say suggestively.

  He giggles, clearly happy to hear me say that. “Noted. Call me.”

  He walks away, taking a seat far from us on the other side of the café.

  “I’d like to point out that I was right,” says Kelsey. “He totally wanted you to call him for things other than the fucking bike!”

  I feel a rush of excitement from the prospect of going out to dinner with Dustin. On one hand, I feel like an eager teenage girl, hoping that the guy is going to effortlessly woo me.

  But at the same time, I can’t decide how I feel about him yet. I get a vibe, and it is hard to put into words. It isn’t bad or negative, but it is palpable. I wonder what sort of pies he has his fingers in.

  41

  Dustin

  I wake up in the middle of the night, rock-hard, right after having a sexy dream about the girl at Ultra-Cycle. I can’t remember all the details, but all I keep thinking about is her, naked on top of me, riding me with that sexy, hourglass body of hers.

  I think about taking care of myself, but I am anxious and eager to return to the dream that I’ve fallen out of. I firmly keep my eyes closed, hoping that I can pick up immediately from where we left off.

  Unfortunately, when I do finally get back to sleep, it is sound and without dreams. So, when I wake back up again later at the more appropriate time of seven that morning, I am still rock-hard and my thoughts are still of Megan and her grinding into me. I can’t get her off my mind.

  I am so turned on. I want to just get out of bed and get on with the morning, but I can’t get rid of my erection. Every time my thoughts even drift back to the dream, it only makes things worse. I know it is going to bother me all morning unless I take care of it.

  I slide my boxers down my legs and begin to stroke my throbbing dick. I’m thinking about the girl, Megan Paige. I think about her jerking me off instead.

  She has a sexy little mouth. I wonder if she is good with it. I think about her gagging on my cock as I shove it forcefully down her wide throat.

  I masturbate hard and fast. I wonder about just how flexible she really is. I want to test her claim and see her move around. I want to bend her over and see if she can touch her toes while I fuck her from behind.

  I finish hard and I make a massive mess all over my body and my covers. I am actually out of breath, exhausted and drained from just the idea of emptying myself inside of that girl.

  It is the first time that I’ve pleasured myself to another woman since Rebecca was killed and I was robbed of my wife.

  After I recover in bed, I take a quick shower and get dressed quickly. I can hear the TV on in the living room, which means my kids are awake and mobile.

  I join them in the living room, giving them both a long, strong hug. I want my boys to know that it is okay to let others know that you care.

  They are wrapped up in their cartoon, so I decide to let them watch while I make us all breakfast. They both love pancakes: any kind, but primarily if they have blueberries or chocolate chips. Since we ate the last of the blueberries, it is decidedly chocolate chip flapjacks for us.

  I get out bread and eggs to make toast and to scramble up some yolk. While I work on putting the chocolate chips in the batter, little Mason comes and joins me in the kitchen. He cracks the eggs and starts mixing them in the bowl I’ve set out for them.

  “Way to go, Mason!” I say proudly, giving him a good back slap. “You’re being a helpful young man.”

  He smiles at me, continuing to diligently mix his eggs. I add a splash of milk to the eggs and get the skillet ready.

  Before I pour Mason’s eggs over the stove, I pick out a piece of eggshell that he’s accidentally gotten in the mix. I don’t point it out since I’m so pleased to see him helping.

  Once all the food is ready, I get the boys to abandon the TV and join me at the dining table. We eat together, chewing our food in silence.

  After I see that we’ve all cleared our plates of pancakes, I decide it is time to talk.

  “You boys remember Karen?” I ask them.

  “The blonde lady with Netflix?” Mason wonders.

  “That’s the one.” I laugh.

  Karen wasn’t just a blonde woman with a Netflix account. She was a friend of their mom’s for years before she died, and she always used to babysit the boys for us when they were really little. She still babysits for me, but she can’t do it as often as I want. I think the pain of losing Rebecca is still fresh for us both.

  “Anyway,” I continue. “Karen—the blonde Netflix woman—she’s going to watch over you guys today. That’s better than daycare, am I right?”

  The boys nod, unable to hide their disappointment.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask them.

  “Why can’t we spend the day with you?” Mason asks.

  “I’ve got to get to the shop, Mase,” I say as gently as I can. “Cody and I, we’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

  I hate it when Mason and Austin look sad. They both remind me of their mother. Their expressions are nearly mirror-identical.

  “I want to spend the day with you guys, too,” I say. “You know that, right? Austin?”

  “Yes, Dad,” says Austin with a mouthful of eggs.

 
; “All right,” I say. “Try not to talk with your mouth full. I do have to work, but I promise that I’ll pick you both up early from Karen’s. I shouldn’t be any later than one-thirty or two at the latest. That’s not too bad, right?”

  They nod and smile, but they still aren’t happy. I’m not happy either, but Cody and I are going to be deep in discussions that I don’t want my children to be witness to.

  I give Mason his clothes and help Austin get dressed. Even though these boys are still growing, they are growing fast. Soon, I am going to be watching my oldest go off to elementary school. That separation is going to be a bitch for me. My only hope is that the distance won’t be too much for Mason.

  Karen only lives two miles east of us and only three miles from the shop. I am grateful that I will be within a five-minute drive of them.

  I drop them off with Karen, giving them both another bear hug before we wave goodbye and go our separate ways. I get back in the car and sit there, thinking about those boys inside Karen’s house. I wonder what movie or show they will watch together, and I am hoping she will feed them well.

  I keep thinking about them on my way to the shop. I wonder how they are handling their mom’s death lately. Austin was too little to understand, but Mason was very sad for several days after. We all have our “sad days,” but I can’t get an overall read on them.

  Before I can pull up into the shop parking lot, I get a text from Cody:

  “Hey, meet at clubhouse instead. Can you pick me up some Silver Apples?”

  I responded while driving. “Sure. I’ll be there in 5.”

  I head to the clubhouse, picking up Cody’s Silver Apple cigarettes along the way. As I drive there, I think about my boys some more and their mother.

  Our rival biker gang, the Hell-Snakes, killed my wife almost two years ago. I’m not sure if the bullet was really intended for me, but regardless, I feel responsible and guilty for her demise. I feel like a mass murderer. I didn’t just lose a wife; I’d killed a daughter and a mother.

  Now, I’ve been left to take care of our two boys. Austin and Mason Walker may not get into the bike culture like me (I can only pray), but I am determined to see them through into whatever future they want for themselves.

  It’s been hard for me without Rebecca, but I haven’t let that deter me from living or weaken my resolve as a parent. I’ve accepted that she’s gone, but that hasn’t made things any easier.

  When I arrive at the clubhouse, Cody is already there. I join him inside, seeing that he and Blake, another member, are chilling together, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer.

  “Yo,” I say to Cody, tossing him his new pack of cigarettes.

  “Hey,” Cody replies, catching the cigarettes. “How you doing today? How are the boys?”

  “Good, good,” I answer. “Everyone’s good.”

  “Hey, the bike will be done tomorrow,” Cody informs me. “You want us to both go down there, or just you?”

  “I’ll get the rundown on what they did for the bike,” I say. “Don’t worry. We’ll get our answers.”

  “You sure you don’t want Blake or me to go with you?” Cody asks again. “If this shop owner’s a Hell-Snake, and he sees you’re by yourself this time—”

  “I’m not a child, Cody.” I laugh. “I’m good. I can handle picking up a motorcycle from a motorcycle shop.”

  I am also happy for the excuse to go see Megan again. I don’t know if she’ll be working, but I have my fingers crossed.

  “I’m tempted to go with you just to let them know who runs this fucking town,” says Cody. “I think if I see that guy Jacob again, I might not be as nice to him as I was the other day.”

  “Bro, we need to chill,” I tell him.

  I understand that with Cody being the president of the gang, there are going to be tough decisions he’ll have to make for the group. But I don’t want him to go too far and get territorial over a guy we don’t know that well yet.

  “I’d have thought out of all of us, you’d be leading the charge,” says Cody with amusement. “Why do we need to ‘chill’? You’ve been intent on revenge ever since you stopped blaming yourself over Rebecca.”

  While this is true, it still stings to hear anyone else say her name.

  “Don’t fuck around,” says Cody. “If this guy tries any shit, don’t be afraid to do what you need.”

  “I want justice, but I want it to be right,” I say. “I’ve been trying to keep my head clear in order to properly plot it out. If I just knew who the Hell-Snakes’ leader is. I could die a happy man if I knew that reptile had died under my boot. Good things don’t happen just like that, bro. Let’s keep our heads clear.”

  Cody hands me a beer, giving me a fist-bump as he does so.

  “That’s why I keep you around, VP,” Cody quip. “And don’t you worry, we will find out who their club president is. In fact, I can guarantee it.”

  42

  Megan

  It is Saturday, and it is also my day off from work. Yet, when I wake up that morning, I decide that my first order of business for the day will be to go over to Ultra-Cycle after all. I need to go pick up my paycheck from the shop and deposit it before the bank closes. I’d left it there accidentally after being given it the day before.

  I am happy because I know that Jacob won’t be in the shop on a Saturday. All I expect to do is walk in and out, grab the check, and be on my way to enjoy my weekend.

  Then, as I pull up to Ultra-Cycle, I se my new, sexy biker again. Dustin. He is in the parking lot too, standing with the motorcycle he’d left for us, waving to me as I get there.

  “Hello there!” says Dustin cheerily. “I didn’t think I was going to get to see you today, and you show up here just in time.”

  “Hi!” I reply. “I guess we’re both here to pick up something up. I’m here for my paycheck.”

  “Oh, nice!” he says. “Yep, I’m here for Ol’ Faithful right here.”

  “I find it funny that we keep running into each other like this,” I admit.

  “It’s weird how that keeps happening,” he agrees. “Maybe the universe wants us to keep colliding.”

  “Why do you suppose that is?” I wonder.

  “I guess it could be any number of things,” he says bashfully. “I… uh… the bike is running great. They fixed the problem, and it was way cheaper than I thought it would be. I can use that money for something else better.”

  “Got any ideas?” I ask, knowing there are many answers to that, too.

  “I want to take you out,” he declares. “I want to use the money I saved here where you work and take you out somewhere nice. What’s a place you’ve been dying to try?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t go out tonight,” I say dismissively. “I’m busy tonight.”

  “I can’t buy you a meal and some drinks?” he asks with hopefulness. “I swear, I’m not trying any funny business.”

  “No, that’s not it,” I assure him. “Just… maybe another time.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a date-date,” he bargains. “I just want to talk with you and get to know you. You don’t want to get to know me?”

  “I’m not buying it,” I say. “That you ‘just want to talk.’ No one ‘just wants to talk,’ do they? What’s on your mind, boy?”

  “I’m just a boy that wants to get to know a girl,” says Dustin. “If the girl liked me, who knows what could happen? I’m in no rush, darling.”

  I am still a bit reluctant, but the longer I look up at his handsome face and watch his gorgeous hair blowing in the wind, the harder it is to resist him. I succumb to his power and relent.

  “Okay, we can have dinner together tonight,” I say. “Gentleman’s choice.”

  He is happy by my invitation acceptance. I take out a piece of paper and write out my phone number for him.

  “You’re convincing,” I tell him as I hand him my number. “You’re too cute. Anyway, that’s my number. You know, in case you plan to cancel before we’re a
ctually supposed to meet up.”

  He takes my number but doesn’t even look at it before putting it in his pocket. “I’m not canceling.”

  As I’m showering and dolling myself up for my date, Dustin is sending me texts on what our plans for the evening are.

  “Let’s meet at Cupertino’s,” his first text reads. “The food there is amazing”

  “Bring a jacket, sometimes it gets cold in there,” another text from him warns.

  “6:30. Be there, little lady ;)”

  I decide to get an Uber to Cupertino’s in case we are drinking, but the wait for the car to arrive is ten minutes, and I know there is likely going to be traffic.

  So, I arrive at the restaurant at the fashionably late time of 6:38. Dustin has already gotten us a table and is waiting for me. He looks damn good. He is still wearing his leather jacket, but he has on a nice, button-up shirt and a pressed pair of jeans on.

  He stands up as I arrive at the table. He is staring at my outfit. I have on a sleek blue dress that shows most of my legs and most of my cleavage.

  Neither of us is sure what to go for, so we awkwardly fall into a hug once I get to the table.

  From the moment I take my seat, I know that something is up. I don’t suspect anything sinister, although I do have my guard up, but I sense that he has an ulterior motive behind his actions throughout our dinner.

  We keep things light and good at first. He is definitely a smooth talker, and I just enjoy listening to him fill me with sweet nothings. It also helps that he is incredibly fucking hot and keeps looking at me like I am part of the entrée for the evening.

  Then, once our food arrives at the table, he gets right to it.

  “Listen, I know it’s rude to talk about money,” he begins. “I know you just started and everything, but how much is Ultra-Cycle paying you? If you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Enough,” I say. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Just curious,” he fibs. “I’ll tell you how much I make…”