There were no protestors around when Andy arrived, and the street seemed to be taking advantage of their devotion. Most of the other bars and clubs were open, and the sounds of jukebox rock and sound-system pop drowned out the promises of salvation and the threats of damnation.
Shane was cutting his typically imposing figure at her door, standing to his full seven feet, with his hands clasped loosely in front of him.
“Hey, Shane. How’re we doing?”
“Good. About the usual for a Sunday, maybe a bit busier. We haven’t had any interruptions today.”
“That’s good. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Shane grunted. “I prefer ‘em where I can see ‘em.”
Andy didn’t care whether she could see them or not; she just wanted them gone and out of her hair. “I’m expecting someone, about five o’ clock. Just send a message back when they arrive.”
The only reaction Shane gave was a small twitch of one eyebrow. “A fella?”
Andy answered only because it was pertinent information that would help Shane recognize Chiz. “Yes. If he asks for me it might be by the name of Elmo.” She realized, belatedly, that she had never given Chiz her real name, and that he hadn’t asked for it. He always called her ‘doll.’ “He goes by ‘Chiz.’ Might be riding a Harley. Shaved head. Big, in the way of us normal, little people that you giants have to avoid tripping over.”
Apart from a corner of his mouth twisting up in the same direction as his eyebrow, Shane offered no judgment. “Sure thing, boss lady. I’ll make sure you’re told when he gets here.”
Andy suspected that this new development in her life would end up as the subject of some discussion between the people who worked at the club, but if she’d wanted to avoid being the topic of their gossip, she really shouldn’t have suggested that Chiz meet her at the club. She was just going to have to grin and bear it now.
Shane had been right, the strip club, at least, was doing brisk business for a Sunday, but then it was still technically the holiday season, and some people would do whatever they could to prolong the party spirit until New Year’s. Andy said her hellos to Jackie, and a couple of the girls who were working the room to encourage the customers to buy lap dances.
The upstairs portion of the club was much busier. All of the rooms were occupied. When Andy checked the diary she found that they were booked up through the day until about ten that night. They never accepted bookings beyond eleven at night. Andy had found that beyond midnight was when clients turned up drunk, stoned or high, or when the rubber-neckers who’d gotten wind of the dungeon tried their hardest to get a sneak peek.
They did good business during the week with the people who didn’t want their family or co-workers to find out about their enjoyments, and booked their sessions at the dungeon as facials, long meetings or working after hours. At weekends they saw the clients who couldn’t take the time from their day jobs, or who were fully comfortable with their sexuality and spent their leisure time exactly as they wanted to. The few couples that frequented the dungeon usually visited over weekends.
Andy got the opportunity to chat with several of the other professionals while she took care of some of the more mundane housekeeping and bookkeeping chores from her desk. By the time she was ready to prepare for her own client, it was obvious that word of her expected visitor had gotten around. She had endured plenty of good-natured teasing, but had been confronted with few outright questions.
Andy changed into a blue satin corset, a short skirt formed of layers of blue and black net, fishnet stockings, and matching blue heels, and prepared to spend some quality time with a Wartenberg Pinwheel and a feather duster, amongst other toys.
~o0o~
She’d worked up a sweat, having spent a full thirty minutes tickling a semi-professional bodybuilder with her fingers, so Andy showered before changing into a pair of jeans, a long-sleeve, emerald-green turtle neck, flat boots and a black leather jacket as Chiz had advised. By the time she came out to her desk, Emma was waiting for her with the news that Chiz was enjoying a beer downstairs while he waited for her.
“He’s a looker, in that rugged ‘I can beat you to a pulp without blinking’ kinda way.” Emma’s green cat eyes were sparkling with amusement.
“I’m glad you approve,” Andy replied dryly. She wasn’t offended by the teasing, it was indicative of the kind of relationship that all the people who worked in the dungeon had. There were professional boundaries, but they all took an interest in each other’s well-being.
“Approve? Honey, if he ever wants to play doctor, you send him my way.”
“I think I can take care of that myself, thank you.” Andy cursed the fact that she blushed as she spoke, especially when Emma saw it and almost doubled over with gleeful laughter.
“Well, it’s about time. Don’t let me keep you. Go get him, tiger.”
“Raawwr,” Andy deadpanned as she left the office and headed for the stairs.
She spotted Chiz perched on a stool at the bar. He was idly watching one of the girls on stage as she conducted her gymnastics around the pole in a gold bikini, but he noticed when Andy stepped through the door, and then his blue eyes were completely focused on her as she crossed the room to him. He didn’t look away once, not even when the girl on the pole executed a particularly complicated move that involved doing the splits while upside-down.
Andy had the feeling that their game had changed subtly again.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself. This is a nice place. Classy.”
“Thank you. They take care of you?”
“Oh yeah.” Chiz tilted his half-finished bottle of beer in her direction. “You look good, doll. I like the sexy secretary look, a lot. But I like you like this, too.”
“Thank you.” Andy felt like a broken record, but she wasn’t sure what else to say. Chiz was looking his usually uber-masculine self. More so since the t-shirt he was wearing was almost too small to contain the muscles of his chest and shoulders. The seams on the arms looked to be on the verge of splitting. His incredibly defined torso and back had no ink, but the upper half of his right arm, from shoulder to elbow, and the whole of his left arm down to his wrist, were covered in religious motifs. There was no color anywhere in his ink. Andy hadn’t had a chance to study the tattoos yet, but she had noted the predominant image on his right arm was hands clasped in prayer with a rosary tangled between the fingers. The crucifix was just visible below the sleeve of his shirt.
Chiz grinned, as if he could sense her discomfort. “Come on, doll. Let’s get gone before we lose the daylight.” He put his unfinished bottle down on the bar, picked up his jacket from the stool next to him, and stood. Andy waited while he pulled his jacket on, and then preceded him through the club, surprised, but very pleased, to feel the warmth of Chiz’s palm on the small of her back.
Shane was still at the door, which explained why Chiz had felt comfortable enough to leave his bike by the curb. The machine was huge, black and imposing. Andy had no idea how the damn things stayed upright in motion. She was fairly sure that there was no way they were going to get away with this little excursion without her causing him to crash.
“Night, Shane.”
“Night, boss lady.” He nodded towards the bike and addressed Chiz. “You ride with the Priests?”
Andy looked, but she couldn’t see anything on the bike that would have given Shane that information. The only decoration was a silver rosary painted on the gas tank. She hadn’t seen that before. She wondered if – other than the ink and his bike - Chiz was particularly religious.
“Yeah. You know us?” Chiz asked Shane.
“I’ve heard of y’all. Word is, you’re a solid crew.”
Chiz only nodded. Andy wasn’t quite sure what most of the conversation meant. There seemed to be a lot being said between the lines.
“You ride?”
“Yeah. But on my own these days. Used to ride with the Dirty Rats, but when the new Pres came in,
the club changed. Didn’t like how they operated after that.”
“You patch out?”
“Yeah. They let me keep the ink, but I got rid of that myself. Shane motioned at the tattoos on his arm. Andy had never had the inclination to study and make sense of the conglomeration of images on Shane’s tree-trunk-sized arms.
Chiz nodded, but did not smile. Andy was sure there was some meaning to what Shane had said, but she had no idea what it was. More interestingly, it was now apparent that her fuck buddy was a biker, although, at the moment, she felt like a third wheel on her own date. Andy didn’t think she’d made a point of feeling ignored. Okay, maybe she’d popped her hip a little. Ether way, Chiz and Shane took their leave of each other, and Chiz, his hand still at her back, guided her to his bike.
He rummaged in the saddlebags and came up with two helmets. He handed the smaller one to her. “Here, you’ll need this.”
Had he bought it for her? Borrowed it from somewhere? Was that a thing you could do? She wasn’t going to ask in front of Shane.
“Here.” Chiz had finished putting his helmet on. He put hers on her head and fastened it. “Keep your feet on the pegs, hold on, don’t fall off, and let me worry about the road. Okay?”
“Yep.” Andy nodded, and hoped that her growing nerves weren’t as obvious as they felt.
Chiz swung his leg over the bike, and held out a hand to help steady her as she climbed on behind him. She found the little metal cylinders that he’d indicated as the pegs with her booted feet.
Once she had stopped fidgeting, he surprised her by wrapping his hands around her knees and pulling her forward so that she was snug against his back. When she put her hands on his hips he took hold of them, and wrapped them securely around his stomach.
“Time to get cozy, doll.” He gave her hands a little pat before he returned his to the handlebars. Andy took his advice and snuggled against his back as he revved the engine.
She concentrated on not falling off when Chiz pulled away from the curb, more slowly than she’d expected, and she was sure more sedately than he usually did. Shane was still motionless by the door, but was sporting a wide grin.
Before they’d left the city behind, Andy was certain that she could get addicted to riding. It was completely different from driving in a car, even when she put the top down on her little roadster. The cool evening air surrounded them. It felt like more like being a part of the world, precarious without the structure of the car around her, but completely exhilarating.
Chiz had picked a route that she recognized. It led them out of the city, and soon became a straight road. As the blacktop opened up in front of them, free of any other traffic, Chiz twisted the throttle. They put their backs to the sunset and sped towards the coming dusk.
The passenger seat was comfortable, but the vibrations were combining with the remaining tenderness from the night before, and enhancing it in the most interesting way. Altogether, with the adrenaline and the sheer rush of the ride, Andy was fighting hard not to grind against the seat, or against Chiz.
About an hour into their journey, Andy felt the bike begin to slow. Chiz motioned off to the side of the road. She followed his hand, and saw that he was indicating a sign for a rest area. She nodded, knowing that he couldn’t see her, and wondered what the protocol was for in-ride communication.
The night was still new, and the sunset was still illuminating the horizon behind them, but the road off the highway was lined with trees, and the extra shade made it much darker. Eventually it opened out into a clear grassy space, dotted with picnic tables and benches, and bordered by a blacktop lot. The whole area was surrounded by trees, completely secluded from the road and very dark. There was no independent lighting, so when Chiz cut the engine he left the bike’s headlights on.
Chiz put his arm out and Andy used it for support as she climbed off. She found that she was surprisingly stiff, and still distractingly horny. Chiz kicked the stand into place before standing himself. He stretched and pulled his smokes out of his pocket, lighting one, and taking a long drag, before leaning back against the bike.
“So, what did ya think?”
“Wow,” Elmo said as she took her helmet off and shook out her hair. “I have never felt anything like that.”
“You did well for a newbie.”
“Thanks.” She looked around at the completely deserted clearing. It was begging to be the scene for a horror movie. If she hadn’t been with Chiz, she’d have been convinced that there were axe murderers behind every tree. “Any particular reason why you chose this place?”
“No, just somewhere to stretch our legs.”
“It’s pretty quiet.” Andy caught her bottom lip with her teeth. She’d had an idea.
It looked like Chiz was riding her same train of thought. “Those tables don’t look too comfy. This’ll be softer.” He patted the seat of his bike.
Andy considered it for a moment. Hopefully it was as sturdy on its stand as it looked. Chiz dropped his smoke and crushed it out with the toe of his boot.
“C’mere, doll.”
Chiz took the helmet from her and bent to place it on the ground, then he pulled her between his thighs. He caught her face between his palms, burying his fingers in her hair, and pulled her in for a kiss. By the time he was done claiming her mouth, she was thoroughly convinced of the merits of bike sex out in a December night.
She stepped back to give Chiz space to swing his leg back over the seat. He did so, but turned around so that he was facing the exhaust, and leaning back against the handlebars. Ahh, so that’s how you did it.
“It’s chilly, but you’re gonna need to get at least a little naked, doll. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up.” He leered.
“Sure you will.” Andy grinned back.
She stripped out of her boots and jeans, pulling her underwear off with the denim. The blacktop was cold against her feet, so she used Chiz’s shoulder for balance as she swung her own leg back over the bike, over Chiz, so that she was facing him and straddling his lap. He was still fully clothed, which made Andy feel a lot more naked than she really was. She hadn’t thought she had an exhibitionist streak like this, but being out in the open, half naked, sitting astride the lap of a blazing hot guy on his nether-tinglingly fun bike made her feel wantonly reckless, and turned her on so much that she could feel how wet she was.
She made sure to keep her feet on pegs, which were a cold line of metal against her arches, but better than the colder tarmac. The extra balance she got from that made her brave. She leaned forward, bracing her flat palms against Chiz’s chest. Their position didn’t allow for a great deal of body contact, so the heat of the kiss was centered solely on their lips. The kiss moved very quickly from soft and almost chaste, to hard and fierce. A gentle press of lips on lips devolved into a primal tangling of tongues, licking and nipping.
Andy leaned back and reached for Chiz’s fly. His hands rubbed warming circles on the skin of her hips and thighs.
“Keep your feet on the pegs, doll. It’s really gonna ruin the mood if you catch your leg on the exhaust.” Chiz advised.
Andy caught his eye before squeezing the machine a little tighter with her knees, adjusting her feet a little more firmly on the pegs. Yeah, a second degree burn would be a real passion killer.
She freed him from his denim. He was completely hard, and the head of his cock was already slick with clear fluid. Andy would have liked to have sucked him, she wanted to taste that salty liquid, but those logistics were, like, Level Two biker sex. She was still in the 101 class. She contented herself with running her fist up and down the length of him until he groaned.
Chiz shifted, fishing for something in a pocket, and handed her a little foil packet. His cock stood enticingly proud from his body as she rolled the latex over it. She ran her palm over it again, smiling at the way it twitched impatiently against her hand.
“Climb on, doll.” His voice was rough with arousal and that had its own effect on places low in her
body.
Andy gripped his shoulders with one hand and pushed against the pegs to lever herself up, using her other hand to hold his shaft steady. She sank down onto him, feeling him fill her completely. The folded denim and metal of the opening of his jeans was abrasive and cool against the skin of her thighs. The air was still chilled as it whispered against her skin, but she couldn’t pay attention to it. There were far more pressing sensations.
She held onto his shoulders, clenching at the leather of his jacket, and dropped her forehead to his. For a moment, Andy was overwhelmed with lust, with the desperate need to fuck him and to be fucked. When she felt more in control she started to move.
Breath on the Wind Page 10
