I returned the kiss and helped her off the table. As I followed her to the bathroom, the only thoughts in my mind were excuses I could come up with for her to visit again.
***
Taken for a Ride
By Raminar Dixon
“Don’t look now Terry, but lover boy and his buddies are back,” Tracy whispered to me with a buzzed giggle. With a foolish smile spread across her face my friend pointed with a tilt of her head towards the group of men walking into the bar behind me.
I turned slowly enough to conceal my excitement, but found myself immediately intimidated by the gaze of the first man who strode in through the door. My heart must have skipped a few beats because I felt the breath just run right out of me in the most curious fashion. Maybe the thing just slid right out of my chest and landed on the floor with the crushed peanut shells, torn receipts, and the hearts of a hundred other women that had been sitting on the same bar stool before me. Only once he turned away, headed towards the rear of the bar with the others, could I breathe again.
I had seen him and his biker friends here a few times in the past. His name was Raul Julian and he was the President of their motorcycle club. Usually they came later in the evening, when the place was packed with people talking and drinking and smoking. They would hammer down a few rounds of drinks while laughing with each other before retreating again into the night on the rumbling engines of their bikes. Everyone that spoke of them did so with a weary sort of respect that could only be gained by the fear of their rumored exploits.
I felt like he was untouchable in those times, but somehow our eyes always seemed to meet whenever he came in. His club wore thick, black leather jackets with “Brothers of Street” emblazoned in grand white letters on the backs and each of them had plenty of tattoos covering their arms. They were rough troublemakers the likes of which my mother had most definitely warned me about. Now, they were here in the late part of the afternoon, which struck me as unusual but not hugely surprising.
After Raul sat down at the table and ordered a pitcher for his group his eyes turned back to me, locking onto my own. Call it my timid nerves or just the part of my brain that still doesn’t agree with the rest, but even though I was captivated by the man I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but avert my own eyes and turn back to my friend.
“Damn,” Tracy said, taking a sip of beer and shaking her head, “What I wouldn’t give to see what he’s hiding under that shirt.”
I nodded my head in agreement. It had been too long since I felt the pleasures of a man. The last time I had anything real between my legs was over six months ago.
Who could blame me for being busy? Med school takes a lot out of anyone. Some days it felt like all I did was work or study. Getting away from it all and having a drink at the bar was the highlight of my week and tossing myself in a place so far removed from my regular life was just about as much of a thrill as I thought I could tolerate.
“Is he still looking over here?” I asked, feeling the heat rise on my cheeks.
“He’s just talking to his friends,” Tracy commented, before looking up again behind me and nearly spitting out her beer. “Oh wait- no, he’s getting up. I think he’s coming over here.”
Raul’s presence was announced before he even spoke by the approaching heavy thud of his boots against the wood floor. When the noise ceased, I could almost feel him like a shadow across my back.
“Hey,” he said simply, in deep voice that seemed scratched from the road. “I’m Raul. Haven’t I seen you two around here before?”
Tracy clammed up, using her nearly empty beer bottle like a pacifier. She looked down at her knees and just nodded. I guessed it was up to me to say something.
“Um, yeah,” I stammered, unsure of myself or his intentions. “I’m Terry and this is Tracy. We come here about once a week. I think I’ve noticed you guys around a time or two.”
Raul smirked and put his tough-looking hands on his hips. I thought he was probably wondering what two suburban college girls were doing slumming around in a bar like this. The belt that held up his faded, hard-ridden denim jeans was secured by a silver belt buckle with a large etching of a red eagle stamped on the front. I wondered for a moment how big he was underneath those jeans, and something stirred inside me.
“Terry, huh? I like that. Short for Teresa?”
I took a swig of beer and shook my head with a slight laugh. “No, just Terry. I think my mom and dad always wanted a boy or something.”
He looked me up and down, taking me in with a confident, brazen look. “Hmm. I’ll never look at Terry as a guy’s name again after seeing you.” Raul held up a finger to the bartender and grabbed the ice-cold bottle that was slid his way, cracking it open and taking one long gulp. “So Terry, you and your friend from around here?”
“We’re in med school. Up at NVU. I’m from a little town in Nevada you’ve probably never heard of, though.”
He smiled broadly, like he’d already figured me out. “You ever ride on a motorcycle?”
I shook my head, wondering where this was going. Riding always looked like fun, but my inner wimp always kept me off a bike.
“Come ride with me, Terry. These guys are going to be here awhile and I don’t feel like spending all night getting drunk.”
My throat caught and I felt like I couldn’t swallow, much less speak. The lazily rotating fans above us did nothing to lower the temperature that was rising in my belly or stop the little beads of sweat that suddenly broke out on my neck.
Sensing my trepidation, Raul boldly placed one hand around my waist. With a playful nudge, he instructed more than asked, “C’mon. It’ll be fun.”
His touch sparked devious thoughts of what might happen if I went with him. Would it be just a ride on his motorcycle or something much, much more? I had a feeling deep in my gut that it would be the latter.
Where were we going? I don’t even really know this guy!
I looked pleadingly at Tracy, who was busy losing her anxiety by mentally undressing Raul. She shook it off and returned my look, raising one of her eyebrows and cinching up the corners of her mouth to indicate her consent. Her expression was almost one of envy and she nodded slightly to put the point across. It was unlikely she had any idea how much I wanted her to give me an excuse not to go but also wishing at the same time she’d just keep her mouth shut.
“O-ok,” I said meekly, and allowed his touch to guide me up and out of the bar stool. When I stood to face him, I realized just how tall and powerful he really was. The rich smell of old leather and the road drifted off him and the faded, colorful tattoos on his thick arms and rounded shoulders looked like badges of honor that had been carved into his flesh. My mother would be having a conniption.
His dark blue eyes told a different story, however. There was something behind them that convinced me, which told me even though he was probably rough and maybe even dangerous, that he was safe.
“Good,” Raul replied, and escorted me towards the door.
As soon as the door banged shut behind us and we emerged in the bright, hot sunlight of the late day, Raul pinned me between the coarse brick wall of the bar and his body. I gasped, and pushed hard against his chest with both hands.
“Go ahead, fight me,” He said, unaffected by my struggling. “You know this is what you want, and so do I. Why else would a pretty little college girl come way out here to a biker bar?”
I turned my head away from him and tried to squirm free, but he held me fast and pressed his mouth to my neck. There, he tasted my sweat; running the warm ring of his mouth under my earlobe, suckling the delicate skin there before carefully working his way down to my collarbone.
“Stop! Get off me!” I said loudly, and tried to ignore the feelings swirling around and through me.
His hands were alive and going where they wanted, cupping my tender breasts and caressing them through the thin pink t-shirt I wore. The short, rough hairs on his chin scratched exquisitely against me, l
ike the lightest sandpaper rubbing against the creamiest velvet.
My struggling calmed as the fear of what he would do to me was replaced by the low ache of my desire. A moan escaped my lips as his fingers found my crotch, rubbing there with intensity and stoking the fire.
He was wrong. I didn’t want this anymore. I needed it.
“I’ve seen you every time I’ve come in this place and I know why you’re here,” He growled, and forced my fighting hands back down by my sides. The heat in my belly had been replaced by a buzzing tingle down below and dampness began to saturate my panties. “I’m just giving you that.”
Something inside was preventing me from struggling any harder or screaming out. I looked around the dusty parking lot and towards the road, but no one was around that could see us.
My senses lit up when I felt his rigid manhood mash against my thigh under his jeans and the lubricating moistness gathering around my folds felt as if it were about to gush out. My body was preparing itself for his invasion, whether my brain was ready for it or not.
“Take those off,” Raul said, while pulling down on my khaki shorts. “I want to taste you.” He released his grip on me for a moment, using only his strong body to hold me in place against the wall. I unbuttoned my shorts in a fumble and could only widen my eyes in surprise when I heard his zipper being pulled down.
Raul’s hands instantly moved to my panties, pulling the damp material aside, exposing my slit. With a desperate sort of energy, I kicked my shorts off my ankles and watched them flip over and into the dust.
“Turn around,” Raul ordered, spinning me by the arms and face-first against the wall.
A wave of rapture teased across my skin as his fingers spread me open and his wet tongue began to glide up and down my womanhood. It was electric; a nearly unbearable cascade which held me as its prisoner and firmly rooted in place, only able to buck my hips against his mouth and moan as he pleasured me.
“Come here,” Raul grunted, and stood back up again, swirling me around again to face him.
With no more obstacles standing in his way he then lifted my left leg into the air, spreading me open while nailing his other hand against the wall and bearing his forearm into my side.
“Oh god,” I moaned out, and felt the tip of his erect member brush against my outer folds. I couldn’t believe we were really going to fuck right out here in the open, in the middle of the day. It would be a miracle if no one saw us.
“Is this what you want? Is it?” he questioned me with authority.
My mind was in overdrive and the only thing I could muster was a barely audible, “Yes.”
His entry was fast, and he effortlessly slid past my folds, burying himself deep. I was filled with his hot shaft completely and could only bite my lip to stifle the cry of pleasure. Raul pounded me into the wall, shaking my entire body with each quickening thrust. The rising heat in my belly rose and I cried out again with my climax, scraping my fingernails across the back of his leather jacket.
Raul crushed his lips against mine and breathed in great rasps through his nose as he put all his effort into reaching his own orgasm. After a few last, shuddering gyrations, Raul withdrew and came, spraying his hot load onto the dusty parking lot.
I realized that the pressure on me had lifted once he stepped back and urged out the last few drops of his own release with his hand. He dropped my leg carefully and I swayed for a moment, glad that the wall was there to support me. I took another anxious look around and found the parking lot still deserted. The inside of the bar seemed mostly quiet, with only the muffled sound of rock music reverberating through the walls.
My shorts were covered in a fine layer of dust, which I shook off before putting them back on. Hopefully, no one would notice them or my mussed up hair, both of which could be explained away as a side-effect from a ride on the motorcycle. Raul tucked away his package and buckled his belt with a confident expression and a sort of dominant cheer.
Just as Raul opened his mouth about to speak, another biker exited the bar puffing on a half-finished cigar and carrying a helmet.
“Hey man, we gotta go. Margie just called and told me she saw some of Gonzalez’s boys cruising through Paltino Lakes,” the man said in a rush, before moving out of the way as the rest of the group poured out of the building. “You know what they’re up to. I figured we oughta welcome ‘em to the neighborhood.”
Raul just nodded to the man, who donned his helmet and jumped on one of the heavily-chromed and tricked out bikes in the lineup nearby. The other members of the gang followed suit.
Raul seemed torn for a moment between staying there with me and going with the others. After a brief pause, he turned to me and said, “Listen, these guys need me for this. You gonna be ok getting home?”
“Yeah,” I said weakly, still recovering from our interlude. “You know where Palms Vista Apartments are?”
He thought for a second and then nodded. “Yeah. Those the big white two-stories near the college?”
“I live in 125 A.”
Raul smiled back at me and grabbed the helmet that one of the others tossed to him. Without another word he turned away, got on his bike, and started the thrumming engine. I shielded my eyes as the entire parking lot emptied of motorcycles in a cloud of dust. As they tore off down the road I could only wonder if I’d ever see him again.
A few nights later, I found myself still drifting off during my studies and thinking about Raul. He invaded my mind in a similar way that he had invaded my body, but this was an almost psychological torture. I was fighting with myself to get over the urge to visit the bar in the hopes of meeting up with him again. The last thing I wanted to do was seem desperate, but that’s exactly how I felt. The pleasure he’d given me and the wildness of his spirit was unlike any man I’d ever met.
I gave in with a sigh and put away my books. There was no way I would get anymore studying done now that my brain was fried thinking about Juneou’s Historical Pathologies or Raul’s tongue teasingly lapping against my aching womanhood. The best bet was sleep, if I could get it, so I turned off my bedside lamp and settled in.
The quiet but restless mood of the night was broken when I heard the faint rumble of a motorcycle engine slowly winding its way closer and closer to my apartment building. When the noise sounded like it was right outside my door, the engine cut off and I sprung up out of bed.
Was it him?
I peeled back the blinds, searching the lot below and feeling the familiar heat start to rise in my belly again. There it was, a big Harley Davidson, painted black and trimmed out in chrome that shined under the street lights like some sort of beacon. No rider was in sight.
My heart leaped when several loud raps beat out against my front door. At first I considered not opening it, but squashed that notion when Raul’s voice called out, “Terry? You home?”
I opened it and Raul stumbled inside, nearly collapsing over my coffee table. He groaned and fell backwards onto the couch, flopping half-way upright and then pushing himself up into a sitting position. His clothing was scuffed and dirty like he’d been rolled around in the dirt and dried blood covered a large cut on the side of his head. When he moved his hand away from his face with another painful groan I could see a large purple bruise surrounding one swollen eye.
“Holy shit! What happened to you?” I asked, and slammed the door shut before the curious nature of my neighbors got the best of them. Raul covered his face again and tried his best to force a smile.
“Got jumped. Fucking Mexicans. They didn’t walk away without a few busted lips of their own, though.”
The doctor-in-training side of me came to full attention and I grabbed a towel, some peroxide, and a bowl of cold water. Raul grimaced as I slowly cleaned the cut just above his eyebrow but he didn’t try to stop me.
“Another club has started running on our territory. Callin’ themselves “Dios Elegir, or ‘God’s Elect.’” Raul kept himself from reaching up and touching the wound when I s
lapped his hand away. “They got Cartel connections three miles deep, and they don’t much like sharing the playing field with us if you know what I mean.”
Raul’s anger fluttered out and he looked up at me sincerely and whispered, “Thank you.” He looked regretful for having come here and tried to stand, but was still a bit wobbly.
“Whoa, there. Where do you think you’re going?” I asked, nonplussed.
He grabbed onto the couch and steadied himself. “I shouldn’t have brought myself here, Terry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I stepped in front of him and placed both hands against the warmth of his chest. The muscles there were solid as he flexed with each breath and I could feel the clear lines that defined him through the shirt he wore.
“It’s ok. I was hoping you’d come.”
He seemed genuinely taken aback when I craned my neck, inviting his kiss. There was no hesitation in his actions, though. Without another word he brushed back my hair and our mouths met again. It was sensual and dirty; the good little daddy’s girl being taken by the mean, grizzled biker.
“Let’s get you to bed,” I purred as our lips parted, still only inches away from each other.
With him trailing behind me by one hand, I led him to my dark bedroom. There, he rested half-sitting on the edge of the bed and kissed me again. Conversation wasn’t needed and he told me exactly what he wanted by lowering his zipper and pulling out his stiff member.
I went to my knees, crouching down on the carpeted floor beneath him. The arousal and heat in my belly shot up, thrilling me with an eagerness to please him. His smooth shaft was clean tasting as I ran my tongue up its sides before plunging my mouth down, engulfing his manhood.
“Oh…” he murmured, and balled up the sheets on the bed with his hands. His entire body tightened as I bobbed my head, enraptured in the sensations brewing inside me.
“Bend over the bed,” he whispered, and I released my suction with a wet pop.
Sin: Alpha Males and Taboo Tales (The Naughty List Bundles Volume Three) Page 11
