Hung (Selected Sinners MC #4)

by Scott Hildreth

  Otis shook his head, “Club. We’re a club, not a gang. A motorcycle club.”

  “Oh, I thought you were a motorcycle gang. What’s the difference?” she asked.

  “There isn’t one. Gang sounds bad, and club sounds less like we’re criminals, so we like to call it a club,” Otis responded.

  “So you are a gang?” she sighed.

  I shifted in my seat and raised my finger to my lips, “Shhh. Don’t tell anybody.”

  “Oh, I won’t. You can trust me. I’m Kat,” she grinned.

  I grinned and looked down at her shorts. Her legs were a fucking mile long.

  “Like a pussy cat?” I asked.

  “Kind of, but with a K. Katrina, Kat for short,” she giggled.

  “I’m Biscuit, that’s Otis,” I said as I shifted my eyes up to her fairly large breasts.

  “Biscuit? Why Biscuit?” she shrugged.

  “Why not?” I shrugged.

  Well, it’s nice to meet you guys. I’ll leave you two alone for a while. If you need me, just holler, we’re not real busy. I’ll probably stop by in a few and see if you’re doing alright.”

  She turned and walked away. As she walked, I continued to stare, hoping she’d turn around and see me, but she never did. After a long minute of studying her walk, I turned around and grabbed my vodka.

  “Meeefuckingyow. Kat, huh? She’s a hot little number,” I said as I lifted my glass.

  “Where were we?” Otis asked.

  “Hold up a minute, I’ve got to clear my mind of evil thoughts. I’m gonna poke that little bitch, mark my words, brother,” I said as I took a drink of the vodka.

  I chased it with Red Bull and shook my head, “I was face fucking my blue eyed girl.”

  “The professor of oral pleasure,” Otis grinned.

  “She damned sure was,” I nodded, “Could have given a college course on it for sure.”

  “Okay. So I’ve got my cock down her throat, and she’s staring up at me, knowing if I look into those beautiful blue eyes for more than a few seconds I’m gonna shoot my load. Me? I’m lookin’ up at the ceiling, countin’ them little popcorn dealios they spray on up there. Now she’s suckin’ away, and I’m on about two thousand five hundred and fifty-three, knowing I can’t last much longer. I glance down just for a quick second, and luckily her eyes are closed,” I reached for my vodka and let Otis absorb what I’d said.

  “So, I reach down and grab blue eyes by the ears. Now, I got her ears in my hands, and I start pounding my cock in and out of her throat like I’m gettin’ paid. Hell, I’m watchin’ that fucker disappear in her mouth, amazed by the sheer talent of this girl, and I pull it out and shove it back in. Then, I pull out, and shove it back in balls deep. She don’t gag or whimper or nothin’. Hell, this is turning me on like a motherfucker, so I turn it up a notch.”

  I raised my eyebrows, inviting Otis to imaging what might be next. While he was dreaming of my next move, I stood from my seat, held my hands in front of my hips, and started fucking the air, imagining her head in front of my cock.

  “So I’m shoving my cock balls deep into her throat, pulling it out, and shoving it right back in, and it builds up that throat snot like a motherfucker,” I said as I bucked my hips back and forth.

  Otis wrinkled his nose, “Throat snot?”

  “Yep. What, you never heard of it? It’s that goop down deep in their throats. Hell, you probably ain’t got a cock big enough to find it, but ole Biscuit does,” I chuckled as I continued to thrust my hips back and forth.

  “So anyway, I’m pounding away and things get kind of slippery. So I pull back…”

  “And I don’t realize it at that exact minute, but my cock slides all the way out of her mouth. So I go to shove it back in, thinkin’ the tip is still in her mouth, and the head hits her top lip, and the fucker’s all covered in slobber and throat snot, so it shoots up the side of her face and sticks her in the eye,” I hesitated and shoved my hips forward as if I was poking her in the eye with my cock.

  “Now, initially, I don’t think nothing of it, other than the fact I just poked her in the eye with my cock. So I pull my hips back and prepare to shove her throat full one more time.”

  “And she looks up and opened her eyes…”

  I widened my eyes and grinned. Otis sat, shaking his head and grinning.

  “And she’s starin’ back at me smiling’, ready for the cock, and she’s got one brown eye and one fuckin’ blue one. I got my cock in my hand, starin’ back at her, and I blink my eyes, not sure if what I’m seein’ is what I’m seein’. Nope, she’s still crouched down there, with her mouth open, starin’ back at me with one brown and one fuckin’ blue one – ain’t got a fuckin’ clue of what’s happened. Now this freaks me the fuck out, because the entire reason I like this girl, other’n the fact she can suck a golf ball through a garden hose, is that she’s got them crazy blue eyes. And I glance down, blink one more time, and my eyes focus on my big fat cock. And the tip of my rod’s got a little transparent blue dot on the end of it.”

  “Contacts?” he asked.

  “Yep. That’s when I learned about ‘em. Fucked it right out of her god damned eye,” I said with a laugh as I slipped back into my seat.

  “That’s a hell of a story,” he chuckled.

  I reached for my vodka, took a drink, and nodded my head, “Damndest thing I ever seen.”

  “So what was all that about?” a voice from behind me asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder, “What?”

  She grinned and held her hands in front of her little shorts and began bucking her hips like she was riding a cock. She looked like Beyonce, Britney Spears, and Madonna all rolled up into one very well-tuned dancer.

  “God dayumm,” I howled as I watched her put on her show.

  After a few more well-timed thrusts of her hips, she slapped her hand against her ass and locked eyes with me.

  I’m gonna fuck you ragged, you sexy little bitch.

  “I just thought it was funny when you were doing it. I’m sorry, I’m just bored,” she giggled.

  “You can come over here and fuck the air any fucking time you want,” I responded.

  “Is that what you were doing, fucking the air?” she asked.

  Her eyes locked on mine and her mouth curled into a cute little smile. I wanted her, and I wanted her bad. Something about her made her seem like a tease to me, but I knew she was far from it. I decided to take a chance, reveal a little about the story, and see what she had to say about a little sexual innuendo.

  “Here? Yeah, I was fucking the air,” I said as I pointed down to the floor.

  “But in the story I was tellin’, I was fuckin’ a girl’s mouth,” I said as I pointed up toward her face.

  “Sounds fun,” she giggled.

  It always sounds fun, but it ain’t every woman who can actually take a foot long shoved in and out of their throat. Time, I suppose, would tell. Hopefully, it’d just be a matter of time, and I’d have her just where I wanted her.

  Her eyes still fixed on mine, she tried to turn away. Her gaze stayed stuck as her body twisted around.

  “I probably ought to go clean some tables before I get myself in trouble,” she sighed.

  I kept my eyes locked on hers as she walked away. After walking halfway across the bar, she grinned and turned away.

  “Damn, Biscuit. Looks like she likes ya,” Otis laughed.

  “Sooner or later, they all do,” I responded as I reached for my vodka.

  “Probably those damned gauges you have in your ears,” he said as he tossed his head my direction.

  “Naw. It’s the beard, my charm, and that big cock I’m rockin’,” I laughed.

  “So what’d you want to talk about?” I shrugged, realizing we hadn’t even spoken about anything significant.

  “Nothing, I just needed to unwind. I’m good now,” he sighed.

  I shrugged my shoulders, “You sure you’re alright, Brother?”

  “Positive,�
�� he nodded as he lifted his beer bottle.

  “How long you want to stick around?” I asked.

  “Drink this and go?” he shrugged as he raised his bottle of beer.

  I nodded my head and glanced over my shoulder. Kat stood at the corner of the bar staring at me like she was starving and I was the only available next meal.

  “I might stick around until she gets off,” I said as I tilted my head her direction.

  Otis raised one eyebrow, “Trial’s tomorrow.”

  I nodded my head. Sydney’s brother was given a life sentence for admitting he’d kill a rival gang member if they rode into town with a rocker claiming territory. Seemed like a far-fetched case to me, and from what Avery said, he was pretty much forced into saying it on one drunken night in a bar with an undercover ATF agent. We had all agreed to go to the trial together to support him. Trial or no trial, my focus, at least for the time being, was Kat.

  “You see her fuckin’ legs?” I asked as I tossed my head her direction.

  Otis nodded his head as he finished his beer. He seemed off his game.

  “You sure you’re alright?” I shrugged.

  He sighed and tilted his head rearward, “My old girlfriend, Sam. Her mother died. Just wanted to try and let it all settle. Just trying to make sense of it.”

  Otis’ only love was Sam. They split up when he was in his early twenties, and she moved away to New York, and married some rich fella. Now hip deep in kids, and living the high life, the last thing Otis needed was to see or think of her again. He never quite recovered from losing her, and whether or not he’d ever admit it, he missed her dearly.

  “Oh shit, your sweetheart? Damn, Brother, I’m sorry. What happened, if I might ask?”

  “Aluminum foil. It was an accident,” he sighed.

  I shook my head.

  Aluminum foil?

  Hell, maybe she got crushed in a machine at work, I thought.

  “Damn, did she work at the Reynold’s Wrap factory or something?” I asked.

  He shook his head, “No, she was cooking and went to pull some aluminum foil off the roll, and it cut her wrist. She bled to death before the ambulance arrived.”

  Shocked at the thought of a woman dying from such a freak accident, and further shocked thinking the woman was Sam’s mother, I stood from my seat and opened my arms.

  “Well, when a deal like that happens, you just got to stand back and realize that this world we’re living in ain’t ours, it’s His; and things like that are just proof of it. His plan’s much bigger’n this,” I said.

  He hugged me and slapped his hand against my back, “Appreciate it, Brother.”

  “See you in the morning,” he said as he stepped back.

  “Long as I’m done with her,” I laughed as I turned around and glanced toward Kat.

  “Just don’t fuck her in the eye, and everything’ll be fine,” he chuckled over his shoulder as he walked away.

  Thinking of Brother Otis being in pain didn’t set well with me. He wasn’t one to reveal his feelings, nor was he a person who complained about anything. He had texted me and wanted to meet, which meant he was bothered by the death of Sam’s mother, as he should be. Trying to decide if he was more uncomfortable about the death or Sam’s undoubted arrival into town was anyone’s guess, but my opinion was he was worried about possibly running into Sam.

  Either way, Otis never did anything he didn’t want to do - if he happened to stumble onto Sam, he’d react in a manner supporting what he believed was in his best interest. As I lowered myself into the seat and reached for my vodka, feeling guilty for not having provided him a little more ear and a lot less mouth, Kat slipped into the seat across from me.

  “So, what’s your story?” she asked as she sat down.

  I widened my eyes and stared like a sex starved idiot.

  “Who me?” I asked as I pointed to my chest.

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder with the back of her hand, “Yeah. You. What’s your deal?”

  “Deal? I dunno. Don’t guess I got a deal. I’m just a biker who likes havin’ fun, suckin’ down a little beer, and tryin’ to see how much Red Bull I can drink before I have a heart attack,” I responded as I lifted my glass of vodka.

  Her blue eyes were driving me insane, even if they weren’t blue underneath her little contact lenses. As she sat and studied me, waiting for her mind to come up with another question to ask me, I daydreamed about doing the windmill with her. Her long legs and participation in sports would probably make it effortless.

  “My dad’s a cop,” she said flatly.

  “Excuse me?” I snapped back as I spit about half my vodka onto my hand and forearm.

  She nodded her head, “Yep. Wichita P.D.”

  “Well, that’s a nice how do ya fuckin’ do. Damn, where’d that come from?” I asked as I wiped my hand on the leg of my jeans.

  She shrugged her shoulders and sighed heavily, “I don’t know, just thought I’d get it out of the way.”

  “Just had a run in with the cops a week or so ago,” I chuckled as I glanced at the back of my hand.

  “What did you do?” she asked as she leaned forward, and rested her tits on the edge of the table.

  “Late for a meeting with the fellas, was going about a hundred and a half down Kellogg, resisted arrest, got Tased, cuffed, hauled to jail, and then kicked the shit out of a skinhead gang while I was locked up. Typical weekend for me,” I shrugged.

  Still leaning forward on the table, she glanced up and blinked her eyes a few times before answering.

  “I’m not even going to lie, I love bad boys,” she cooed.

  “Well, I’m about as bad as it gets. Now, you spilled your guts about your pop being a cop, I guess I’ll just cut right to it, you know, eliminate all the guesswork so to speak,” I said as I lifted my glass of vodka and peered over the top.

  Still pressing her tits into the top of the table, she batted her eyelashes a few times and smiled, “Okay. You’re not going to scare me.”

  “We’ll see,” I sighed.

  I took a sip of the vodka and chased it with a swig of Red Bull. As I sat the can down to the side, I leaned onto the edge of the table and curled my index finger into my palm, hoping she’d scoot a little closer to the center.

  I wanted to smell her while I spoke to her.

  She did just that, and as I inhaled a whiff of her perfume, I decided she must have sprayed a little more on herself while she was away. Maybe this was just meant to be.

  “I don’t commit to anyone, and I’ll never be anyone’s exclusive anything, or whatever you call it nowadays,” I whispered.

  She gazed at me as if hypnotized.

  “Okay,” she breathed.

  Well, that went fairly well. Let’s see how long she lasts…

  I inhaled a short breath, exhaled, and glanced over each shoulder. The bar was still empty, and in fact, had two less people than the four who were in it when I entered an hour before. I turned to face her and inhaled through my nose.

  Couture La La. That’s the scent.

  I grinned at my recollection of her perfume, and continued, “I’ve got a five, or maybe a six inch tongue, and a twelve inch cock about as big around as your wrist. I don’t believe in love, I think marriage is a fuckin’ joke, and I don’t like cops. I’ve always wanted to fuck a cop, but never found one willin’. Lookin’ at you now, I think I’d settle for the daughter of a cop, but that’s all you’re gonna get. Fucked. I can promise you it’ll be fun, no strings attached, and we can keep doin’ it for as long as you want, but it’ll never be nothin’ more than fuckin’. You in or are you out?”

  She didn’t blink an eye. As the edges of her mouth curled upward, she fought against it and began to speak.

  “I like bad boys, and I hate my cop father with a passion. He despises people like you; which makes me like the thought of your twelve inch dick that much more. I’ll challenge you on the tongue, because I don’t think any human has a tongue that
long, but the thought of it excites me. I’ve never been on the back of a bike, but I’d like to, and until now, I never really thought I’d even talk to a real biker. The bottom line, Biscuit, I’m in. Your move,” she said in one uninterrupted sentence without so much as becoming short of breath.

  Still positioned in the center of the table no less than eight inches from her face, I sat and stared.

  Fuck, I like this girl.

  For once in my life, I was at a loss for words. To mask my sudden stupidity and buy some time to come up with something to say, I reached for my glass of vodka.

  “First things first,” I sighed as I sat up straight.

  “It ain’t a dick. It’s a cock. Little boys and short dudes got dicks. Mine’s a cock,” I grinned as I raised my glass to my mouth.

  I took a short drink, more for theatrics than for the need to take a drink. I slid the glass to the side and widened my eyes slightly.

  She reached for my vodka, slid it across the table, and lifted it to her mouth. As she peered over the rim, she tipped it up and drank the remaining liquid from the glass. After she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she grinned and set the glass to the side.

  “I’ve been off work for ten minutes. From here on out, the d-word will be off limits. Now, you think you and that third leg of yours are up for a ride?”

  She batted her eyelashes and waited for a response.

  I swallowed heavily and raised my right hand in the air.

  “What’s a man gotta do to get a bar tab in this joint?” I hollered.

  She grinned and leaned back into her seat. As I studied her face, and continued to stare at her overly blue eyes, the bartender slapped the tab onto the table.

  “Here you go,” Crayon box huffed.

  I didn’t even bother to turn around.

  “Thanks,” I said under my breath.

  “You leaving?” she asked Kat.

  Kat nodded her head, “With him.”

  “Like your beard,” Crayon box said.

  “Like your hair,” I lied as I reached for my wallet.

  “Thanks. Just got it done,” she replied.

  I pulled a fifty dollar bill from my wallet and pressed it on top of the thirty dollar tab.