The Outlaws - Part Two
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The Outlaws
Part Two
By Honey Palomino
“Without obsession, life is nothing.” ~John Waters
I could hear the birds chirping outside and feel the sun on my naked skin, but I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid to find out last night had been a dream, and I was really just laying in my warm, boring bed at my warm, boring house. I didn't want to be there, and my memories of last night had were so amazing, that before I could open my eyes to witness my reality, I said a little prayer that what I remembered had in fact not been a dream. A wonderful, delicious dream.
Licking my swollen lips, I opened my eyes and smiled with relief.
The first thing I saw was the mirror over the bed. It was definitely not a dream.
The mirror was marvelous. It had proven to be quite the accessory last night as I watched Jackson mount me, his sculpted ass flexing gracefully with every stroke. His ass was like a damned artist, all on it's own. The muscles moved like a perfectly choreographed ballet. My ass wasn't bad, but it wasn't anything like his. But since I had the distinct pleasure of watching it dance, the brilliantly mounted mirror above his bed provided me with the best view in town and I didn't mind one bit. Who needed the ballet when you had Jackson, the president of the local motorcycle club, The Outlaws, sinking his cock into you over and over at the same time that his vice president watches from the sidelines to teach you a lesson? Not this woman.
At first I was afraid. Shaking in my boots, about-to-pee-my-pants terrified! But last night, when I woke up tied to Jackson's bed after he found me spying outside his window in his most private of moments and seeing the look on his face as his emotions drifted from anger to lust, not to mention the growing package between his muscular thighs, well - my fear disappeared.
And then I was hungry. Once I realized I was safe, and they weren't going to chop me up into a million pieces or brand me by tattooing their logo on my ass, the only thing left to do was enjoy myself. I took everything they had to give me throughout the whole night, and it wasn't only the lips on my face that were pleasantly bruised and swollen this morning.
Trigger was just icing on the cake. I knew I had hit the jackpot when he showed up. I had fantasized about this moment for months, watching them both from across the street, standing there biting my lip, and thrusting out my swinging hip, twirling my hair and daydreaming about how it would feel to be naked and pressed up against the leather jackets of the men across the street at Outlaw Repair.
Mostly, I wondered what they would smell like and what those tattoos looked like up close.
And now I knew. Smiling up at the mirror, I took a mental picture to remember forever. I had no idea what the day held, but right now, lying here in this huge four poster bed sandwiched between two sleeping giants...two incredibly dangerous, yet handsome, giants with monstrous cocks, rippling muscles and the ability to fuck that is on a level that should be outlawed....right now, in this moment, everything was perfect.
Jackson was on my left, his thick thigh thrown over mine and his arm draped across my chest. Trigger was lying on my right, completely uncovered. He was sleeping deeply, they both were, but Trigger's cock was swollen and hard. I was surprised. We had been fucking all night but obviously neither of them were lacking in testosterone. They were masculine and rough, raw, yet skillful, as they both devoured my tender flesh, leaving no inch of skin untouched, fucking me throughout the night in each and every way that they pleased. I had never experienced sex like that before. Raw, unabashed, wanton passion unleashed in the most savage of ways.
Trigger's eyes burned into me, breaking me into a million pieces and putting me back together all at once. All these years, I had been watching people, when I truly just wanted to be seen. I shuddered when I remembered the feel of his gaze raking across us as Jackson first began hammering into my tender pussy.
It was the most amazing night of my life. And by the looks of Trigger's growing, yet sleeping cock, it just might be a pretty good morning, too. I rubbed my legs together as I felt the wetness seeping down my legs, smiling up at the reflection of my good fortune. How did I get so lucky?
My stirring woke the sleeping giants and they came to life simultaneously. Coming at me from both sides, their mouths moved over my skin as I smiled and pulled them into me. Trigger crawled on top of my sleepy body, his need obviously urgent and strong. He didn't waste any time, his hardness driving into me quick and rough, my bruised pussy clenching around him tightly.
Jackson's rough hands caressed my curves, lifting my heavy breasts and pinching my nipples hard. My body responded as if I had never been touched before. His touch was electric, and every bone in my body was begging for more. Covering my lips with his own, he kissed me lightly at first, his gorgeous blue eyes flashing as he leaned back and smiled at me, his gaze meeting mine for the first time since we woke up.
He was stunning, even more so than last night, if that was even possible. In those first few moments, his face was veiled in anger and today that was replaced with pure, hungry lust. His lips were swollen, my partner in the kissing battle, and he pressed into me, our lips familiar and yet meeting once again for the first time. It's funny the effect sleep has on lovers. The dark of the night unleashes a different person, one that you won't find there in the morning.
Trigger rocked into me, our bodies melting into each other as he moaned, his massive cock sinking into me, filling my hungry center roughly. Jackson's hand trailed down my stomach and his fingers pressed into my throbbing clit, caressing me, circling me, as Trigger sped up, pounding into me harder and harder, until we both shuddered, our tension climaxing to the most intensely satisfying release. Pulling out of me, his wet cock erupted, his seed spilling out onto my quivering stomach as he cried out, his voice gruffly echoing throughout the cabin.
As soon as his orgasm subsided, he fell onto the bed beside me, spent and exhausted. Jackson climbed between my legs, his morning cock ready and engorged, lining up perfectly with my quivering center and entering me swiftly in one smooth, slick move. Trigger watched, his fingers pinching my nipples hard as he encouraged Jackson.
“Fuck her hard, Jackson. This little voyeur loves it hard, don't you Dixie?”
His gruff voice in my ear pushed me past my own boundaries, my hips rising to meet each vicious thrust of Jackson's immense cock. Wrapping my legs around him, I tried to pull him deeper inside of me, feeling completely insatiable and savagely fucking back at him harder and harder until the spasms flushed over me, and my slick pussy clenched around him. Pistoning into me, he seed coated me with white hot heat, his swollen cock pulsing as he threw his head back and howled with lustful pleasure as his spasms overtook him, pleasure and pain washing over his face in a deliciously stunning show.
I was in heaven and I never wanted to leave this bed, these two amazing men had woken me up to pleasures I didn't know I could experience. They fulfilled needs I didn't even know I had. My entire body was sore and bruised, and I wouldn't have traded it for anything.
Marveling that it was still early morning, I tried to snuggle in close to my two new lovers, murmuring my pleasure and blissfully kissing first Jackson as he hovered over me, his cock still twitching inside me and then turning I turned to kiss Trigger quickly. But, I couldn't get enough of Jackson, and I was suddenly wishing Trigger wasn't there. As Jackson pulled away, he smiled at me tenderly for a moment as he slid out of me.
And then his beautiful face instantly turned cold and hard.
“Okay, get out.” He said to me harshly, standing by the bed briefly before walking out of the room and into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
“What?!” I said to that torturous, muscular ass as he walked out the door.
Silently, he dressed quickly and looked at me apologetically.
“Listen, why don't you get dressed and I'll give you a ride home...or to your car, or wherever you'd like to go. When Jackson says 'go', you should listen. He's not much for negotiating.”
“But, I thought...I mean...we had such a wonderful night...I just thought that....” My voice trailed off, confusion settling in.
“Yeah, you and every other woman in town, honey. Get dressed, I'll meet you in the kitchen.” He turned and walked out, carrying his boots and jacket with him as he walked down the hall, leaving me suddenly very alone.
I was so confused. I thought we had just had the night of our lives. But what was I thinking? Of course they wouldn't feel the same way. They probably took a different woman to bed every night and I was nothing special to them. In fact, I was nothing but some dumb slut they were teaching a lesson to after catching me spying on them. Sure, I guess I was lucky, but I sure didn't feel very fucking lucky laying here in the wet spot all alone in Jackson's bed!
Completely exasperated, I rose from the bed and searched for my clothes among the discarded pile on the floor. The ropes Jackson had wrapped around my limbs were draped across a chair near the door. Picking them up, I trailed them through my fingers, wistfully remembering how Jackson's muscles flexed as he untied his expert knots. I gazed out the window, my mind replaying everything, trying to think of what I could do to change his mind. I heard the shower going in the bathroom, and I lingered as long as I could, getting dressed slowly.
“Why are you still here?”
I jumped and dropped the rope when he walked back into the room. He was freshly showered, his wet blonde hair clinging to his thick shoulders, dripping moisture down to his hairy chest. My eyes took in every inch of him. Trailing down his muscular belly, the wet trail of dark hair leading to the edge of a blue towel that was unfortunately wrapped around his hips and prohibiting my view of the one part of his incredible physique that I desperately wanted to see again.
“I told you to leave.”
Where was the Jackson that had kissed me tenderly before pulling his throbbing cock out of me not half an hour ago? The man standing in front of me was hard, unkind and cold. I was completely out of my league, I knew this. The chances of having any sort of a relationship or friendship or friends-with-benefits situation with the president of the local MC were just about zero. But I was here, wasn't I? Sure, he was standing there telling me to leave repeatedly, but he probably didn't mean that, right? I had to try. I had to say something. I would hate for him to exclude me from his life completely. The thought of never feeling him sinking into me again was just too painful for me to consider.
“Jackson, p-p-please don't make me go,” I stammered. “I had such an amazing time with you, and I um....um....nobody has ever made me feel the way you did. And I know, I know...I was spying on you. But please – don't hold that against me.” I sounded like an idiot, didn't I?
“Don't hold it against you?” He steely eyes looked right through me.
“No, I mean..you know, I didn't mean any harm. I've just been fascinated with you for so long. And now, look, here we are, and we had such a wonderful time, didn't we? Can't we at least be friends now?”
He walked closer to me, his eyes staring into mine. My knees went weak again, his presence was so intimidating.
“Dixie, listen very carefully. I don't know what you are thinking, but this didn't mean a thing. It was a lesson. A very sexy lesson, sure....” his eyes traveled down to my breasts, “you have an amazing body that I very much enjoyed fucking.” His eyes met mine again, the seriousness undeniable. “But it's never going to happen again. I was just teaching you a lesson. I hope you learned it. You shouldn't be following people. The next time I catch you following me, I won't be so nice.” Jackson leaned down, brushed his lips against mine lightly and stood back up. “Now, get dressed and get out of here.”
The finality of his words hit me like a brick. Immediately stricken by misery, I understood there was nothing I could do or say to change his mind.
I turned away, leaving him in his bedroom without another word. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, and as I walked out of his front door with Trigger, I held back my hot, frustrated tears. The last thing I needed was for them to see me cry.
Trigger was a gentleman and graciously walked me to my car, sending me on my way with a hug and a gentlemanly kiss on the cheek. Although I had just had sex with him, in addition to Jackson, I didn't feel the same way about him that I did Jackson. Something about the way I felt in my gut when Jackson looked at me took away all my resolve and made me want to give up everything for him.
As I drove myself home, I used the time to appropriately berate myself for ever following him in the first place, for having the gall to follow him to his home and then be stupid enough to get out of my car and look in his windows. I was lucky to be alive, and yet all traces of fear were still gone. Sure, they were dangerous and everyone else in town was afraid of them. But all I could think about was the way Jackson's skin felt sliding against me as he mounted me over and over. All I could do was smell his sweat, still covering my unshowered skin and my insides melted.
As I pulled into my driveway, I realized I was in deep shit.
I had one job now. And that was to keep my obsession with Jackson at bay. Anytime his lust-filled face as he pounded into me crossed my mind, I would just have to replace it with the hard look in his eyes as he told me to leave.
Simple, right? Right.
Hell no. Not right at all. I knew myself better than anyone and I knew this was not going to be an easy task.
Walking into my house, I went straight to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. I stripped out of my clothes and looked at my red, ravaged skin. A slow smile spread across my face and as I stepped into the shower, soaping up my sore nipples and pussy, I realized that I finally felt like a woman. I felt wanted, sexy, desired. Sure, maybe what I had done was just a little bit crazy, but I didn't care. The end result was delicious and I knew, deep in the back of my scheming mind, that although Jackson thought our time together had ended, we were just beginning.
He just needed some time to get used to the idea of me. So, I would give him some time, and then if he needed some convincing, well I figure out exactly how to do that.
I spent my day blissfully lounging around the house, reading, snacking and cleaning, with intermittent breaks of lying in my bed and replaying the events of last night as I tried unsuccessfully to meet the growing frustration and horniness that had taken over my body. I was sore, but the extra sensitivity only served to increase my appetite and frustration. I finally drifted off to sleep for the night with Jackson's ocean blue eyes swimming through my dreams.
***
“To be the object of someone's obsession is horrible.” ~Tippi Hedren
The next day, I woke up before dawn, unable to sleep, having fitful dreams that kept me tossing and turning all night. Finally, I gave up and made coffee and sat at my computer, trying to write about everything that had happened in the last 48 hours. The words flowed out of me like a dam had burst. Before the sun rose, I had written ten pages of notes, mingling fictional events with the delicious real events that had occurred and putting them down on paper as a coarse outline for what would later become a very saucy story. I was pleased and satisfied as I made another pot of coffee and spent a few extra minutes getting ready.
I pulled on one of my favorite dresses, the tight red floral one that my dear Mama had told me looked too slutty when she first saw it. I made a point not to wear it after that, but I was feeling a little extra boost of confidence, and a girl never knew who she was going to run into, you know? So I pulled it out of the back of my closet. It hugged my curves perfectly, showing off every inch of my rounded hips and full breasts. I
added a pair of black suede ''fuck me'' pumps that I had bought on a whim years ago and hoped like hell that nobody walked into my shop today and wanted their hair cut. Standing in them all day would not be easy. Actually, I would be extremely lucky if I didn't break my neck.
And then – I spotted the wig. I had a long, blonde wig in the very back of my closet. A friend had given it to me as a prop for a Halloween costume, and I had kept it for years. Surprisingly, it looked very real. As I was tucking my long, black curls into it, a new plan started to form in my mind. I applied my makeup to match my new hairstyle, and I took a few minutes to admire myself in the mirror.
I looked like a completely different person. A sexy person. And that was exactly how I felt, as well. I had felt dead sexy since my encounter with the bikers. If this is what being a slut felt like, I liked it! And today, I even looked the part. If Jackson saw me like this, and he still didn't want me? Well, then I was sure I would find someone else who did. Why did I need to spend my life alone?
So, that was it. I decided to go to work looking like this. No more frumpy clothes for me! If I was lucky, I wouldn't be the only one who got a chance to appreciate my new look!