Stone Hard: A Secret Baby MC Romance

by Melinda Minx

  “My cock is going to break off,” he says in a raspy whisper.

  He pulls away from me and stands back up beside the bed. I lock my eyes on his jeans. I can see a huge--impossibly huge--outline of his dick pressing hard against his jeans.

  I can do nothing but widen my eyes. The cool air hits his saliva all over my tits, and a chill washes across me, but all I can do is imagine what his cock will feel like in my hand, my mouth, inside me.

  He pulls at his belt and throws it to the ground. It’s a motion as smooth and natural as when he mounts his bike.

  He unbuckles his jeans, and my eyes widen. I trace the angles of his v-cut straight down, imagining inch-by-inch what he’ll look like.

  Finally he drops his pants and boxers in one go, and his huge, girthy cock springs up.

  “Holy fuck,” I whisper to myself.

  It’s big and thick and veiny, and there’s even a drop of pre-cum sitting atop his head, like a single drop of dew on a mountaintop.

  “Now, Jo,” he says. “Tell me what you need.”

  “You know,” I say, my mouth hanging open.

  “But I want to hear it out of that beautiful mouth of yours.”

  “It went from dirty to beautiful?” I say, smiling.

  “You haven’t done anything with it to make it dirty,” he says. “So--”

  I lunge toward him. I grab him by the thick base of his dick, and I tug him toward the bedside. His shaft is impossibly warm in my hand, and I can feel the thick lines of the veins pressing against my skin. Throbbing.

  Now Stone lets out a moan. For all his acting like he’s totally in control, he’s been craving release just as much as I have. He just does a better job of hiding it. With my hand wrapped around his swollen cock, he’s finally feeling the first hints of relief, just as I felt when his lips first grazed my wetness.

  I lean into him, never letting go, and I press my lips against his pre-cum. I slide his cum along his head with my lips, and I let my own saliva mix in. I wrap my big lips around his head, and I try to take his dick into my mouth. I suck as I move down, but my jaw can barely open wide enough to get his big head in my mouth. I relax myself and push on, until finally I feel my lips hit the ridge of his head, and they meet the veiny girth of his shaft. Saliva leaks down his cock, and Stone grunts and moans in response.

  “I said I’d go slow,” he says. “But fuck, I need to be inside you.”

  I want to tell him that he is inside me, but I can’t speak with his rock-hard dick in my mouth. And I know that this isn’t what he means, he wants to fuck me, to plunge this big dick into my burning-hot hole. And I want it just as bad.

  I pull my lips away, and his cock leaves my mouth with a wet pop.

  Stone looks down at me with wild eyes, and I realize I haven’t even thought about a condom. But it’s far too late for that, and this is our one night. I remember his words back in the desert: “If it’s safe, then it wouldn’t be any fun.” I want to feel his skin against mine, and--

  He grabs me, flips me onto my stomach, and throws me down onto the center of the bed. The bed shakes as he lands on it just after me, and his hands grab my waist. He pulls my waist and ass up into the air so that I’m on my knees. My face is on the pillow, but I look back and up at him.

  He’s still gripping my waist, but he’s on his knees, too, and his big dick, wet with my saliva and his pre-cum, is moving toward me. I feel an intense thrill rush over me, like the feeling of that first climb on a roller coaster: climbing up and up and up, and finally cresting the first hill.

  He slaps his dick against my outer lips, and then he slides it back along my wetness, moving his head toward my hole. He finds his target, and I hold my breath.

  My lips part as he pushes his girth into me. I expect there to be pain--I’ve never had something so big inside me--but there is none. There’s pressure and tightness, as my pussy does its best to accommodate his size, but I’m so wet and I want him so bad that he slides right in. Nothing but glorious relief and overwhelming ecstasy fills me up. If there is pain, my body is choosing not to feel it.

  “God, Jo,” Stone says, his voice heavy. “You’re so damn tight. I knew you’d feel good, but I never thought it could be this tight.”

  I can’t get words out, I just moan and buck my hips against him as he thrusts in and out.

  His balls slap against me as he begins to fuck me hard and fast. Each thrust penetrates so deep, covering his cock with my juices.

  My inner walls clench and tighten against him, and I feel his full girth throb inside me as he slides in and out. A scream escapes me, and Stone slaps my ass and pounds me into oblivion.

  He slides in and out of me for a long time, his endurance is incredible. I begin to worry that he’ll last longer than I can, that I’ll come over and over until I pass out, and he’ll still not have come.

  But when I gush all over his big dick--when my walls tighten and squeeze him as an orgasm blows my mind apart--I feel him twitch inside of me. A warm rush and pulse fills me up. He pumps me full, each blast filling me with warm wetness, and soon his seed is dripping out of me. He presses me flat onto the bed, and his cock twitches and pumps more and more cum up inside me. My head swims in fuzzy warmth as the mind-blowing orgasm fades down into the blanket of afterglow.

  He pulls out of me and falls down to my side, and only after he’s pulled out do I feel just how much of Stone’s cum is inside me.

  He presses his lips to my forehead, and I hold his strong body tight until I fall asleep.

  I wake up with a wide smile still on my face, and I roll over to look at Stone, but he’s gone.

  My smile falls aways, and I call out for him. “Stone?”

  I don’t bother getting dressed, and I walk out into the living room to find him. The house is empty.

  I pull up a corner of the blinds and peek outside. His bike is gone, but my car is there.

  “You bastard,” I whisper. “You…”

  I knew it would just be the one time, but I didn’t expect him to disappear in the morning. Will I ever see him again?

  I realize I could wait in his house. But he’d be furious that I broke my promise, and I don’t think I could look at him again without immediately taking him to bed. The memory of him inside me is still fresh, and the smell of him fills his house, constantly reminding me.

  I collect my clothes from last night, save for my torn panties, and quickly dress. I slosh some water in my mouth and spit it out. I go outside to my car, and the keys are in the ignition. There’s a note on the seat.

  “Jo,

  Got your car fixed, don’t worry, no charge. I had to head out early and didn’t want to wake you. There’s a lot I could say, but I’ll just say one thing:

  Remember your promise.

  -Stone”

  “Asshole!”

  I grab the paper and consider crumpling it up and tearing it to shreds. Instead I just clutch it in my hands, reading it over and over. Being with him felt right. Or was that just sex? Good sex--really, amazing, mind-blowing sex--isn’t enough, is it? My head is still swimming from last night, and it’s coloring all of my perceptions. I try to see what would go wrong if we gave each other a chance, but I don’t quite see it. We’d make it work, wouldn’t we?

  I go back inside with the paper, and I grab a pen from the kitchen.

  I turn the paper over and stare at the blank white. I realize there’s so many things I could write, too, but the situation is actually quite simple: He wants me or he doesn’t. He’s the one who made me promise, and if he changes his mind, then I’m willing to risk it.

  “You idiot,” I whisper to myself. “You just want to fuck him again. You’re not thinking straight.”

  I shake my head and start writing. I doubt anything will even come of it, but I can’t just completely disappear without letting him know that I felt something real last night.

  “Stone,

  I’ll keep my promise. But if you change your mind…”

&nb
sp; I write down my phone number. I already gave it to him when we first met, but knowing him and his fierce determination not to get me tangled up in his life, I can imagine he already tore up the paper and deleted me from his phone.

  He’ll have the whole day to think about last night, and maybe he’ll regret his choice. If he sees my note and phone number again when he comes home...just maybe he will change his mind.

  8

  Stone

  I gotta focus. I gotta get Joanna out of my mind.

  It’s done. My cock twitches at the memory of her. Remembering her smell, her soft curves, her pleading moans.

  I accelerate, hoping the roar and vibration of the engine will push it all from my mind. It doesn’t work.

  Even one time was too much, wasn’t it? If I really wanted to do the right thing, I should have never touched her. I already deleted her number from my phone and tore up the paper.

  I shake my head. I still remember where her friend lives. If I don’t keep my mind clear, and if I get weak, I could easily find her again. There’s nothing keeping me away from her other than my own willpower.

  What would I have to do to be with her? To be with her and keep her safe?

  I’d have to give it all up, leave the MC, find a way to make honest money. Honest money, that’s an alien world for me. I’m good with cars, maybe I could open up a small shop. One that doesn’t launder money and act as a staging ground for outlaws.

  A girl like Jo isn’t going to wait around, though. I’d have to do it fast, and no one leaves the MC. It’s not like quitting some coddly office job. Getting my Fallen Phoenix tattoo burned off my body would be the easiest part.

  I pull up to the Chrome Hog and push all the fantasies from my mind. I am what I am. I’m an outlaw. A criminal. I’ve done horrible things, and until now, I’ve never even regretted them. If I can just forget Jo, then that guilt and regret will all melt away again, too.

  I’ve got enough shit to deal with as it is. I kick the door open, and I see Remmy sitting down with two other old timers.

  “Remmy,” I bark. “We need to talk.”

  Remmy glares at me. “I’m fucking busy here, Stone.”

  “Now, Remmy,” I say. “This can’t wait.”

  His face flushes red, and he looks ready to break, but he calms himself and nods. “Leave us.”

  The two men stare me down, but they obey and stalk off.

  “This better be fucking good,” Remmy says.

  “The raid tonight,” I say. “It’s just gonna be me and my crew. I don’t need Lenk babysitting me.”

  “I know you don’t like him,” Remmy says, “but I don’t want you and your whole crew getting caught with your dicks out. Lenk might not like you, but he fucking hates the Black Spears.”

  “That’s the problem,” I say. “This is supposed to be a sneaky in and out. Lenk doesn’t do that. He’s always looking for a fight. If it’s just me and my crew, I know we can get in there without getting caught. If I see Black Spear bikes, or if I so much as smell a trap, I can pull my crew out--”

  “You’ll just pussy out and run?” Remmy says, scoffing.

  “If we blow this lab, we control the market. We can jack the price, and those junkies will pay it. If we get caught doing this and don’t even trash their lab? Then we’ve got a fucking costly war on our hands with nothing to show for it.”

  Remmy narrows his eyes at me, and finally he nods. “Alright, I’ll tell Lenk and his boys to stay home tonight. You better not fuck this up, Stone.”

  “I won’t.”

  Me, Rigg, J.C., and Malik ride through the desert. The Black Spear MC’s meth lab is hidden in the ass end of nowhere. There’s an abandoned gas station out in the desert, on an old road no one uses anymore. The lab itself is underground in the old gas tanks. Our intel shows that they don’t guard the place because if there were Black Spear bikers riding around an abandoned gas station, people would put two and two together and know there’s something worth guarding.

  As soon as someone spilled the location to us, their lab was toast.

  When we’re about a mile away from their lab, we pull our bikes off to the side of the road. We ride a few hundred feet off the road and stash our bikes behind some shrubs. No one will see them unless they go looking for them.

  If Lenk were here, he’d probably be revving his engine loud and hoping for a fight, but with me in charge, we’ll sneak right in and right out.

  We’re going to steal their stash of pseudoephedrine, then smash all the equipment. No fucking explosions, and no cops getting antsy or going for some fucking crackdown on all the MCs. Once Remmy sees how smooth it all goes down, he might just make me run point more in the future, and maybe he’ll see just how big a liability Lenk really is.

  We stalk through the desert, still far from the road. If any of the Black Spear boys happen to ride through, we’ll see their headlights, but they won’t see us.

  The faint outline of the old gas station’s collapsing awning comes into view after several minutes, and soon we’re right on it.

  “Looks clear,” Rigg whispers. “Shit, this is easy.”

  “Don’t jinx it,” Malik snaps. “This is my first raid, I don’t want it going south.”

  “It won’t go south,” I whisper. “Give me the crowbar and calm the fuck down.”

  We’re all wearing big backpacks. We don’t know how much pseudo or other valuable shit might be down in that lab. The chances of actual meth being down there is low, but the raw pseudo is the most valuable thing anyway. Our MC has plenty of labs running, and access to pseudo is the main limit to our overall production.

  “Alright,” I whisper. “Rigg and I will go down there. Malik and J.C., you keep an eye on the road in either direction. If you see anything--I mean anything--you slam the hatch so we can hear you.”

  J.C. nods.

  We gather around the hatch, and I notice it’s chained and padlocked. The lock is mostly there to prevent random passersby from dicking around and opening the hatch. It’s not meant to keep out someone who knows what’s down there.

  I get the crowbar in and start to tear at the lock. After about half a minute, the chains and lock pop off.

  I lift the hatch off, and as soon as it opens, the tell-tale stink of a meth lab hits my nose.

  “Ohhh boy,” Malik says, rubbing his hands together. “Looks like the intel was good.”

  I look up at Malik and J.C. “Don’t cluster around the hatch, stay low and out of sight, and keep your eyes open.”

  They walk off, and I climb down into the hatch, gripping tight to the ladder. It’s pitch black down there, but I’m not turning my flashlight on until I close the hatch behind me.

  I crawl down the ladder slowly, being careful not to hit anything, and once Rigg climbs in, he shuts the hatch behind him.

  I pull my flashlight out of my bag and turn it on.

  The ground is a few feet below me, and there are shelves stacked and tightly packed with glass tubes and beakers. It’s not a clean lab. The beakers are browned and dirty, and there’s sand all over the floor.

  “What a shithole,” Rigg says.

  “Yeah,” I say. “We’re almost doing them a favor by trashing this place.”

  We find huge crates full of pseudo, and we start to cram it into our bags.

  “Want me to smash all this shit now?” Rigg asks.

  “Nah,” I say. “Let’s take this shit first. Load up your bag.”

  We load our bags to the top, but there’s still more pseudo left.

  “We’ll have to swap bags with J.C. and Malik,” I say. “Go get them, I’ll start smashing this shit.”

  Rigg heads back toward the ladder, and I move my flashlight along all the beakers. I made sure none are loaded with chemicals that might blow me up, and when I’m sure they’re all empty, I hold out my arm and walk across the room, knocking dozens of delicate glass beakers and bottles to the ground. The stuff that doesn’t break on impact shatters as I step on t
hem with my thick boots.

  If we had more time and nerve, we could steal the glassware, too. It’s not exactly cheap to come by, but the pseudo is more valuable and easier to transport.

  Suddenly, over the sound of shattering glass, I hear three loud, metallic hits on the hatch.

  “Rigg!” I say. “Was that you?”

  “No,” he says, voice coming down from the ladder.

  I hear the hatch open, and Malik’s panicked voice says, “It’s them! Black Spear!”

  I steady my breathing and try to keep calm. “Probably just some cars driving through.”

  “No!” Malik shouts. “They’re moving fast from both directions! At least eight bikes!”

  I spring into action, leaping onto the ladder.

  Rigg is already back outside, and seconds later I’ve climbed the ladder and jumped out of the hatch.

  “Follow me!” I hiss, slamming the hatch closed behind me.

  J.C. has pulled an assault rifle out of his bag.

  “We gotta escape into the desert,” I say. “We’re outnumbered, we can’t fight our way through. We lose them now, get to our bikes, and then outrun them.”

  And as if on cue, down the road from where we came, there’s an orange glow. It grows quickly, and after a few seconds it flares into an inferno.

  “Our bikes!” Rigg says. “They torched our fucking bikes! What now?”

  Shit.

  “You should have let Lenk’s crew come with us, Stone!” Rigg hisses.

  I snatch the rifle out of J.C.’s hands. “You three run. I’ll stay and fight them off.”

  It’s my mistake. I’m the one running point. My crew, my responsibility.

  “Fuck that,” Rigg says, pulling a pistol out of his jeans and cocking it. “I’m too old to run.”

  “I’m too young to die,” Malik says. “Sorry, Stone!”

  He turns his back and starts to sprint away into the darkness. I don’t blame him. He’s just a kid, and hopefully Rigg and I can keep the Black Spear off him long enough for him to escape.