Alpha Biker

by Lexy Timms

  She moaned when he didn’t move and slowly fluttered her lashes. They were deep blue wells of ice water, a sparkling oasis in his desert of dry parched sad earth, he pulled her knees as far apart as he could, seeing her love juice flowing out of her pink gash. He reached out and slid his finger deep inside her, twirling it around, feeling her muscles contract against his finger, and then he brought it out quickly. It was covered with clear sticky love juice. "Oh babe, you’re so damn hot! You are ready for me."

  Classic didn't say a word as he pushed his swollen member deep inside her, not pausing, not waiting to see if her muscles would relax and let him in or not caring if she was wet enough. He lunged deep into her, banging against the back of her cervix as hard as he could. She let out a small scream of surprise or pain, he couldn’t be sure. He was huge and hard and her little pussy had such a small little opening. Little tears formed around it and blood-tinged tiny rivers flowed. He drew out slowly, inch by inch, savoring her muscles pulling on his cock, drawing on him, trying to hold him inside, and then he shoved deep into her again as far as he could, listening to her grunt and her moan.

  "Oh, Jace, it hurts, you're too hard, you're too…"

  He didn't listen but watched as her body took control over her, not letting her moments of pain interfere with her pleasure. Her hips rose in anticipation as he pounded into her again and again, faster and faster, harder and harder. Her tiny hips with a mind of their own now, ignoring her small cries as her body continued to betray her, as her hips rose with each of his thrusts, wanting him as much as he needed her. She began to pant as her hips came up to meet his thrusts and then fell back down onto the leather jacket, which was now covered with her love juices and her sweat. Her ass slid on the wet leather as she whimpered in pain mixed with ecstasy.

  "You like me inside you, don't you, Classic?” He fought to control himself as she nodded and her hips rose to pull him further inside her. “You like feeling my big hard cock ripping you apart in there, reaching into depths that no one else has ever gone."

  "It…I…" She panted, unable to speak as he thrust into her again. Her long silken hair was soaked with her sweat. Her eyes were wide and helpless as he took total control over her body.

  His mouth sought her tits, first one and then the other. Hungrily he sucked on them as he pounded into her hot moist pussy. It was welcoming him with copious amounts of sticky clear love juice, lubricating his needy, rock-hard member, sliding her love juice amply along the long hard shaft. "Ah, baby," he murmured, "you're so damn wet, you're so fuckin’ hot."

  Her hips pounded against his in response as she closed her eyes and let wave after wave of orgasm take over her body, starting deep inside and then rising until her whole body shook and quivered.

  He smirked and then pushed deeper inside her again. "More? You want more?" He fell against her face and sucked on her lips and then thrust his tongue deep into her mouth as he shoved his shaft deeper into her wet dripping cavern.

  She could barely catch her breath as it came pushing out of her mouth in hyperventilating gusts. "No more, oh Jace, no more, I can't."

  "Yes you can." He rose up and shoved himself deeper into her. He could feel the rocks grinding into his knees as he pounded his dick into her again and again; then, his ass cheeks tightened, his balls felt like they were going to explode, and he couldn't hold his load any longer. Like Ol' Faithful he jerked his cum into her, his body shuddering as it released every single drop of thick clear cum into her. Her legs locked around his back and her ass rode him as he pounded into her again and forced his body to let go of every drop, every single pent up drop, splashing his sperm against her cervix, along the walls of her vagina, claiming every inch of her, inside and outside. Every nerve of his body felt alive. He wanted to be locked inside her forever. He felt her muscles moving along his shaft, holding him, caressing his penis. He didn't want to think it, but it was true, he needed her hot pussy squeezing and releasing his cock with delicious spasms, he needed her warmth and her arms around him, pulling him into her, deeper and deeper. He needed to lose himself in her.

  He did...

  Then, he dropped wordlessly on top of her. She didn't move. He lifted up slightly so that he could see her face. His fingers gently brushed her black wet strands of hair away from her sapphire eyes. He stared at her face, so soft, so angelic. The moon had come up in the sky and her skin looked like porcelain china, smooth and soft. Then, he did something that he had never done after he had fucked a broad. He watched her sweet mouth, with the little puffs of air coming out of it in her complete exhaustion, and then, he leaned down, and as gentle as a feather floating to the soft grass, his lips kissed hers. He didn't linger there on those soft perfect lips longer than a second, but he felt something deep inside, beyond lust, as he looked into her eyes. He saw something that he had never seen before in any other woman's eyes, but he didn't know what it was. It was too foreign, too inexplicable, too alien. But he saw it. He felt it.

  Then, for the first time in a long time, Jace felt fear.

  Chapter 3

  They rode back to the Iron Hog in silence. She had her head against his back and her arms around his stomach. Is she resting her hands on top of my jewels on purpose? he mused.

  They wound around Route 66 until they saw the lights streaming out from the bar onto the road. He turned into the parking lot and Classic slid off the back of the bike. He turned to look at her. "Nice ride, cowboy." She seemed to have an amused look on her face. He tried to look into those blue eyes one more time, but she turned away. He jumped off as quickly as he could to follow her, but she was already going through the back door of the bar.

  He stood there staring at the door, not knowing if he should follow, knock, or just go away.

  "Win some, lose some."

  He spun around when he heard Wrangler's voice. "Wrangler! So you finally caught up with us."

  Wrangler spit a wad of chew onto the sand. "The others went on up, so I told 'em I would wait for you. I knew you'd be back. Sometimes a man just needs to nail something when he's sent someone to his coffin." His eyes were steady. "I don't blame you, Jace. I'm jus' saying. It's heavy dude. Just fuckin' heavy." Wrangler spit into the sand again. "Can't say I could’ve done it."

  Jace shook his head. "It's more than I can…" He stopped speaking at once when he saw a whopping dude headed straight for them. Jace remembered the brute from earlier in the evening. Bull, the Chiron Knight. Jace tapped his knife under his jacket. I'm ready. You wanna rumble here? You have a death wish for this moment, come on asshole bring it on!

  But Wrangler stepped between them. "We were just leaving. Come on, Jace." He grabbed Jace's arm before nodding toward Bull. "You have a nice evening, sir." Wrangler's white t-shirt and blue jeans didn't give away who he really was. For all Bull knew, I'm just a squeaky little tourist off the beaten track. Maybe I read about the Iron Hog and wanted to see it for myself, so I rode my little Honda buzzer bike in here and I got caught up in the big boy's game.

  Bull had no idea who Wrangler was because he couldn't see a patch on him, just the white t-shirt. Wrangler glanced at Jace's faded leather jacket with the three-headed black dog on the back. He muttered quietly in Jace’s ear, “Now that Bull will know immediately. With any luck I can wrap my arm around your back and block Bull's view of who you really are. But that's asking for a lot of luck. Oh, you'll get your little pussy back, you wooly mammoth. Jace, you’re done with her.” He pulled Jace from stopping. “We'll get even. We'll carve some of that blubber off that belly yet, you can count on it, but it won't be here at the Iron Hog.” He stopped talking as he guided Jace past Bull.

  He practically placed Jace on his ride like a little boy going to ride his pony, blocking Bull's view of the jacket until he was sure the rival had moved on to other things, but Bull kept his eyes locked on Jace for another few moments.

  Bull stared at Jace like he was having those gnawing thoughts that people get when they know something just isn't right, when
they know they should remember something, but can't.

  It was a relief when Wrangler finally had Jace's bike in front of him as they headed down Route 66. When they took the turn off toward the clubhouse, Wrangler pulled up beside Jace and glanced back to make sure no one had followed them.

  Jace turned too. He half-expected to see Bull trailing them. He pulled over to the side and idled his engine and then turned it off.

  Wrangler followed suit. "What's with you, idiot? You got a death wish or something? That bar’s full of Knights. No little piece of ass is worth dying. Haven't you seen enough death for one day?"

  Jace shrugged his shoulders silently.

  "Shake it off, bro. I get it, Fork's gone. You know we’re going to get our revenge, but not here, not now. We pick the place, we pick the time, and we pick how it's going down, not them." He stared at Jace.

  Jace still sat motionless on his bike with his head down.

  "Furthermore, dumb ass, you fucked the ol' lady that belongs to that Neanderthal."

  Suddenly Jace's head jerked up. "What? What’re you saying?"

  "I'm saying of all the damn bitches in the whole fuckin' world, you had to fuck Bull's ol' lady. That's what I'm saying. Bull, the leader of the Knights. You took his piece of ass."

  "No way!" She was too young to be Bull’s. Too fuckin’ hot.

  "Oh way, brother. You crossed a line. There's going to be a rumble like no rumble ever recorded on earth." Wrangler laughed. "Murder is one thing. They murdered our brother, but you, you crossed an even bigger line, Jace."

  "But she…" How the hell had he not seen that coming?

  "Yeah, I heard she likes doing that. She shakes her titties at some unsuspecting sap, usually just some tourist, and it’s like she’s spraying a big bull's eye on his back with her cunt. Then her gigantic Bull can come along and rip the guy a new asshole." He shook his head. "She played you royal."

  Jace shook his head. "It's not like that. I know it. She's not like that. She, I felt, she…" he stammered. Tonight was beyond jacked up.

  "Give up, Jace, you’ve been played like a Spanish serenade.” Wrangler shook his head. “I sure hope it was some good music because Bull’s going to nail you to a fuckin' tree upside down when he finds out that she gave it up for you." He started up his bike. "We gotta fortify brother," he hollered over his engine noise. "War." He whooped like he was an Indian warrior on the warpath and revved his engine even louder as he climbed the small hill in front of them riding up on his back wheel, doing a wheelie to the top of the hill.

  Jace followed, eating Wrangler's dust.

  What the Cerberus Legends called The Hideout was merely a dilapidated barn that one big desert sandstorm could claim as kindling any day. Outside, the bikes were all lined up in a neat row, one after the other, as if they were at a supermarket in designated white painted lines. From the inside, bikers could look through the missing barn siding and know that it indeed wasn't a supermarket, as they gazed at desert yucca trees through the cracks of the boards. They definitely knew this was desert country, wild hot barren land—certainly not for sissies.

  Mud grinned in relief when he saw Jace come through the barn doors. He shook his head and then slapped his buddy’s back. "You heard of the Shasta sloth, Jace? When you mess with Bull's cunt you’re headed in the same direction as that fuckin' extinct sloth."

  Jace raised his voice, "What th' hell are you talking about, Mud? What sloth?" Did everyone know Bull’s bitch?

  Mud shook his head. "The Shasta sloth ate the yucca plant seeds and pooped them out and that made forests of yucca trees and now the sloth is extinct. So, what happens next? No more yuccas, that's what. Just a matter of time. Then no more yucca trees and no more Legends."

  Jace shook his head. "Damn Mud, sometimes you’re just like some outer space alien or something, who gives a rat's ass about some damn yucca cactus?"

  "Trees. They're trees, Jace, and they are gonna disappear. No sloth, no trees. And if you play with that pussy, well, you are gonna go the way of the sloth, Jace, that's all I'm saying. It's a for sure thing."

  Some of the group was sitting on bales of hay or some of them were just sitting cross-legged on the rotting wooden floor. In the far corner of the room there was a tall beat-up gun cabinet. Stacks of guns of every kind were locked behind its steel doors. Groups of guys were rolling dice with a stack of money in the middle.

  Jace looked the other way when he saw Retro pull up his sleeve and shoot something into his vein. Not many of the group were hooked on drugs, but Retro was a diehard druggie and no matter how many rehabs the club had put him in, he still loved his drug of choice, heroin, more than anyone or anything. In a few moments Retro was on the nod and everyone simply looked away.

  Jace felt an instant of sadness. Damn drugs! There was Fork, clean as a whistle, and then there was Retro, fuckin' himself up. But there was no more Fork. Jace felt a weight tie around his heart, like a damn anchor that sank to the deepest part of the sea, and he tried to take a deep breath, but couldn't. He ran his hand through his reddish-brown beard. How th' fuck am I going to live with this? His throat constricted and he imagined Fork gasping for breath.

  The barn had about twenty-five guys, some with their ol' ladies waiting for his great words of wisdom. The other Legends members were scattered out in the valley. Shooting Fork was a declaration of 'war' and certain things were going to take place and some of the people right there in that old barn at that moment were going to die in that war. Jace shook his head. It's a fuckin war about what? Drugs! We don't want the drug trade. He glanced at DC, his long white beard almost touched his navel. He was wearing his red checked flannel shirt, even in the desert! Hell, that was DC's uniform. He was a Vietnam vet and he sure as hell didn't need any more war, but if the club asked him to, he was ready. Fork was his brother, too.

  DC's eyes had a sadness to them. They lacked depth. Life had sucked him dry. He crouched down to the floor waiting for Jace to speak.

  Fork had been their leader. Now it was Jace, his right hand man. They had elected him unanimously and without vote.

  Jace wasn't the strongest dude. He wasn't the most strategic type of guy, but he was honest and real. The guys trusted him. Trust was a big thing when the world around them was a cesspool of hate, back stabbing, and drug deals. The Legends had nothing to do with the drug deal take, but they couldn't claim that they didn't have their sticky fingers in other pockets of cash. DC was good at strippin' stolen cars and unloading them. Jace looked the other way. DC always told him that made him one smart leader.

  DC plucked a long white hair from his beard, took out his knife and sliced the hair in half. He grinned, showing rows of chipped, brown teeth.

  Jace looked at each face as he spoke, "Okay. Fork was shot by someone in the Chiron Knights. We don't know who did it, but…"

  DC suddenly became animated, and like a jack in the box wound too tight he jumped up and yelled out, "Hell if we don't know who pulled that fuckin' trigger! We damn well know! It was that asshole Bull! We need to drag his body from here to Arizona!" When he jumped up, his hand had drawn out his Ruger. He turned the barrel of the gun toward the ceiling of the barn.

  Mud stood watching in his usual silent mode. He placed his hand softly on DC's wrist and gently pushed down on DC's arm. "Put it away, brother." His voice was calm, but commanding. "No gun play tonight."

  DC put the gun away and scratched his head. "We can't let those gooks overrun us. We have to hold our hill." His eyes seemed to float in his head and narrowed in confusion, as if he was caught in two different worlds.

  Mud leaned against his arm. "It's okay. No gooks are coming up our hill tonight. We’re all safe."

  "Damn right we're safe!" DC's eyes seemed to become calmer. He folded his arms in front of his chest.

  Wrangler spoke up, "So what's our plan, Jace? Do we take 'em in their own house, or do we pick 'em off one by one? Or what?"

  He had just said ‘or what’ when they all heard the hu
m of a bike outside the barn. By the sound of it, it was a Harley.

  Jace looked through the barn siding, it definitely was a Harley, a Sportster 883 and it had a petite figure in the saddle. The crunch of gravel echoed into the suddenly silent barn. Everyone turned to look, hands on guns if they held them. The barn doors swung open with a loud “bang”.

  A woman.

  She stood all of five feet two, in a pink lace halter top, pipe tight blue jeans, and a pistol holstered on her hip. Jace lifted his hand to stop everyone from moving or speaking.

  Classic.

  Her voice came out gushy, in between each breath. "I rode as soon as I could to warn you guys. They're coming after you.” She stared with pleading eyes at Jace. “Their plan is to annihilate. They want to take over the whole eastern block out here in the desert." She took a deep breath. "They're in bed with the Mexican cartel."

  Wrangler grabbed her by the throat and pushed his thumb against her lips. "Did you lead them to us, you little bitch?"

  "No!” She didn’t move, but her eyes darted to Jace before focusing again on Wrangler. “I came to warn you. I overheard them in the bar talking club business. They were drunk and I—"

  Wrangler squeezed her neck harder. "Shut up!" When he was angry his small eyes grew even smaller. The thick scar over his eyebrow seemed to press down heavier on his eyelid. "What do we do with her?" he called out to the group, purposely ignoring Jace.

  Retro moved forward. "Let’s fuck her and then kill her." He reached for his crotch for emphasis. "Want some of this prime sausage, babe?" He began to unzip his pants.

  Jace moved behind Wrangler, but he didn't tell him to let go of her throat. "Classic, why the hell did you follow us here? You know they're right behind you."

  She shook her head, or at least tried to. Her blue eyes were brighter than he had seen them, and wider. "No!” she whispered hoarsely. “No one saw me. I heard them talking in the bar, Jace, and I just wanted—"