Biker Daddy: Devil's Mustangs MC

by Paula Cox

  She lowers herself onto the counter, her head resting on the marble. I place my hand on her breasts before yanking the fabric of her dress down. Her sleeve rips from my force, but I don’t care or stop. Her tits fly out into my waiting hands as I massage the nipples with my fingertips as my cock begins to rock inside of her.

  Her body is warm, a fire I would never want to put out. Despite having just cum, she’s still tight and her pussy is clamped down against my hard cock like a lock not ready to bet set free. This is not the type or quality pussy I could I get anywhere else. Her body knew how to bend and mold itself to mine -- like my own personal sex doll.

  My hands wander up towards her long hair, pulling it back into a ponytail. I yank her head forward as I ride her fast and hard. She cries out, not holding back any longer. She lets out a scream so unbridled that I bark back at her, “That’s it, girl. Take me. Take all of me.” Her hips sink down lower towards the countertop, inviting me in farther.

  Then, Michelle whispers out the magical words, “I want you to cum, Cal.” She’s begging me, pleading with me, “Fuck me! Fuck me so hard! Oh God, I need it! I want it!” I pull her head up to mine, kissing her as I feel her body collapse again in one ball of tense energy before it relaxes. “Fuck me, Cal,” she mutters, “Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum in me. Cum in my pussy.”

  I follow her lead, ramping up my rhythm, pounding away inside her warm pussy. “You want my cum, baby?” I whisper, and she bites her lip. “Yeah, you want my cum in you? I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum so hard in you.” I’m doing this for real, letting myself go inside of her. She reels forward as I thrust three hard, slow, final pushes of my cock into her tired and pulsating pussy. Then I feel it, a surge as my cock explodes in her, pushing my cum up into her. I fall on her back, holding her hands in mine. I can feel her chest under me heave from the effort. After one long, agonizing minute of neither of us knowing what to do, I pull back a few strands of her hair and whisper, “You’re going to want to clean yourself up, Miss Springer.”

  She doesn’t move, but I can see her face go from ecstasy to anger all over again. She’s remembering just who she is dealing with here as she spins and pushes me out of her. “You are one of the worst men I’ve ever met in my entire life. If it weren’t for Maddie…” She stumbles over her words as she tries to collect her panties from the linoleum floors. “If it weren’t for Maddie…”

  “You wouldn’t have had the best fuck of your life yet?” I wink at her, knowing it will enrage her even more, “And that’s counting all the other times we’ve done it.”

  She points a finger into my chest and looks me square in my eyes, “You, Mr. Ross, are the worst parent I have ever met in my entire life. I -- I -- I want to help your daughter, but I can’t in these conditions.”

  “What conditions? That you just fucked me in the kitchen?”

  “That I’m being seduced in this run down shack where your daughter is exposed to assholes like you and their drug and sex addictions!” She picks up her backpack off the floor and tosses back her hair from under the strap, “I’ve got to go. Next week, I’ll tutor Maddie at school. I’ll let her know on Monday.”

  As she attempts to walk past me, I grab her arm, pulling her close to me. I lower my voice as I rumble, “Miss Springer, don’t you ever question my ability to raise my daughter again. Do I make myself entirely clear?”

  She challenges right back. “Or what?” she asks boldly, a glint in her eye

  I don’t have an answer.

  She cocks her head and says, “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Then, she pulls herself free and walks out the door, past the men hooting and hollering at her. I walk towards the window and pull back the makeshift plywood barricade. In the darkness I watch her abandon me again, for the second time.

  Chapter 17: The Choices We Make

  MICHELLE

  Ugh! That man. That dumb, brooding, insensitive, self-centered bastard of a man. Why does he make me want to kill him and undress him at the same time? And why do I have to give into the second one when he’s around?

  That was totally not like me. Then again, I said the same thing when he fingered me in my own classroom during our supposed parent-teacher conference. Maybe this is the person I really am, and Cal’s just bringing out the worst in me. I mean, everyone has a light and dark side after all…

  I adjust my panties as I drive, trying to focus on the road ahead of me. I’m speeding and going way over the limit, but the faster I can get away from him, the better. But as I pull into my driveway, I spot one of his watchers standing outside my doorway. He’s texting on his phone and smoking, his cigarette ashes falling into my nicely-trimmed hedges.

  I exit the car, slamming the door. He stands at attention, dropping his cell to the side of his hips. He moves to the side, letting me get through the door as I scream at him, “You know, you don’t have to be here, kid. None of your guys do. Can you guys get the fuck off of my property?”

  He looks at me perplexed. Obviously, a woman has never told him off like this, much less one totally outside his club. Still, he looks forward, keeping his emotions checked as he replies firmly, “I’ve got my orders, ma’am. I’m to stay here ‘til the next guy comes by.”

  “The next guy?” I’m at my wit’s end. What does a girl have to do to get these goons far away from her and out of her life? “I don’t need a next guy! I don’t need protection! I don’t need anything but some peace and quiet! If you all don’t get off my property in the next ten minutes, I’m calling the cops and telling them everything.”

  It’s a threat I can’t act on. I’m risking so much just threatening it, but it has to be said.

  “I can’t just go. The Coyo--”

  “Screw them. I am telling you to go, and that’s an order. If Cal Ross has a problem with me sending you back to him, he can come over here and tell that to me directly. Until then, I want none of you within a hundred foot radius of me or my school.” I quickly unlock the door to my home, my keys fumbling in my shaking head. As I slam my foot into the wood, I turn back to add my last few words, “And when you go, clean up those damn ashes you’re getting all over my sidewalk and plants!” I pull the door shut with a thud and toss my keys into the darkness of my entryway.

  As I slump to the floor and place my hands over my head. I listen to the boy linger. He’s struggling in trying to decide who to listen to and who will punish him more. But after my crazy woman display and my threats to call the cops, he knows he’s safer heading back to Cal than sticking around here to see if I will act on my threats.

  A light flickers on in the living room, startling me. A jovial voice calls to me, “Where’s that guy going? I was having fun looking at him all night.” Erin walks towards the entranceway, stepping over me as she peers out the small side window next to the door. “Did you have to tell off the hottest one yet?”

  “Yeah, Erin. I had to. This is getting to be bullshit. We’re not in any danger. I don’t need any protection. And I don’t want them around.” I add frustrated, “And did you see what they are doing to the bushes? It’s like a giant ashtray to them!”

  Erin laughs as she outstretches a hand for me to use. I stand to my feet and give her a long hug. I needed some kind of comfort. But she pushes away and takes a long look at me. With a sly smile she exclaims, “Well, Michelle Springer, tsk tsk! I smell sex. Someone was getting it on with her tutoring student’s parent again.”

  I roll my eyes at her and walk towards the living room. I place my bag down and fall into the large leather couch. I close my eyes briefly as I pray that this night would just end, but by the way Erin is staring at me, I know I have a lot of talking left to do. I gesture towards her, “What do you want to know?”

  Erin comes at me in a flash. She’s been asking questions since the night the motorcycle club bodyguards came following me home. I haven’t given her much, just that Cal wanted to send protection. But it was getting suspicious given that he himself hadn’t stopped by and that I ma
de it clear we were not in any serious relationship. If he didn’t care for me, why would he want to ensure I was safe twenty-four hours a day?

  “I don’t know where to start, Michelle. You haven’t really talked to me in weeks.” She puts a fingertip to her mouth as she thinks of the best question to ask first. “Okay. Let’s start with what happened the night you went over to the motorcycle club’s house and didn’t come back ‘til that morning?”

  “Ugh. No. Pass. Any question but that, Erin.”

  “Come on, Michelle! You can’t keep this from me. They are clearly guarding the house, so if I’m in danger than I deserve to know, too!” She grabs me by the hand, insisting I pay attention to her.

  She has a point. It is unfair that I have kept her in the dark over these things. I sigh heavily as I try to round it up in the least damaging way, “Okay. I went over there to talk about Maddie, my student, and as we were talking I guess one of the other motorcycle clubs came by and shot at the house. Cal knocked me over, and a bullet just barely missed us.”

  “No fucking way.” Erin is staring at me stunned. This is way more than she bargained for.

  “Way. After the attack, we had sex. It was the adrenaline or something. I don’t know. But then he locked me up with his daughter while he went out and did something with his club. He came back all messed up and we had some really rough sex after that, too.”

  Even Erin, who prides herself on being open-minded and totally sex positive can’t believe what I am telling her. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, Erin. I’m serious. Why would I make this up?” I pause as I think about the painful part of all of this. “But his former mother-in-law picked up Maddie and she gave me a warning about him and how I shouldn’t be with him. So I left him. I agreed to keep tutoring Maddie because I felt so bad for her. She really needs a good, solid figure in her life and someone to help her with school.”

  I want to crumble up into a ball and fall to pieces. Every part of me hurts just thinking about what has transpired over the last few weeks. How that girl could go through with all that day in and day out is beyond me. I can’t even handle it for the short time I get in on the snapshot of their lives.

  “How’s Maddie taking all of this?” Erin can read my mind.

  “I don’t know. It’s like this is all normal to her. She was talking to me about all the shit they do there in the club. She was talking about sex like it was no big deal and that women in the club were basically treated like whores. Oh, and cocaine and drinking. It’s like this is what every 10 year old lives through. She has no concept that this isn’t okay.”

  Erin looks at me and places a hand upon my shoulder. I’m in over my head, and she can sense that. I always care too much about my students, but this is different. This student actually needs me, and I need to know she’s okay. After reviewing everything she has said to me, I just want to go back there and kidnap her.

  “But what about her dad? I mean, you said you thought he was a good father, that he cared about her and her schoolwork. He may live in a crappy home, but at least he’s watching out for her.”

  Erin has a point, a point I have wrestled with since day one. But today’s events have got me thinking about it in a whole new light. “That’s the thing, Erin. I thought he was a good father, but when I asked Maddie about food, she said he never cooks for her. They go out for takeout all the time. Even today, he was doing a run or a route or something at that repair shop off the highway and he brought her some fried chicken crap…”

  Erin has totally fazed me out about half way through. She stands, grabbing her phone. I watch as she scrolls quickly through it before turning back to me, “What repair shop, Michelle?”

  “Uh, I think it’s called Chris’ Repair Shop or something like that. It’s that beat up old place off of Exit 48. It’s like a drug supplier or something. I don’t know…Why?”

  She hands me her phone where she has pulled up our local newspaper. In the middle of the screen is an image of a mess of fire, smoke, and wood crumbling towards the ground. I press play on a video to see the place crumbling to the ground, sending a ball of fire in the air as it lands on a row of cars. Paramedics are on the scene treating a firefighter and later, it cuts to more bodies being wheeled out on stretchers.

  A serious female voice begins the news report, “Just this in at Cable 3 News: a large fire burned down one of Washington City’s oldest businesses. Outside the building, four men requiring medical assistance were taken to area trauma centers with non-burn related injuries and two firefighters suffered smoke inhalation and were treated on sight. Police and fire crews worked for several hours but have managed to contain the flames, which are believed to have been started by a fuel tank leak and a lighter. Fire investigative teams are on the scene and are looking to speak with the owner of the building who is reported missing from his home outside Washington City.”

  I put the phone down slowly and place my head in my hands. Erin shakes me back to life, “Michelle, if Cal did this, we have to tell someone! We have to call the police!”

  I look at her frantic, upset face. She has no idea what she is saying, “Erin, we can’t do that. If we rat on them, we’re as good as dead. And we have no way of knowing or proving that this had anything to do with Cal.”

  “Fine, but you can’t let that little girl stay there with those -- those -- those arsonists!” She’s pacing back and forth on the carpet, ranting. “We have to call the police about that. We have to.”

  “No, I won’t.” I place my arms across my chest defiantly. “I can’t do it, Erin. Maddie is safer there than she is anywhere else. I know you don’t understand, but it’s of no use.”

  Erin picks up her phone and begins typing away. When she is done, she hands me back the phone with a list of numbers and addresses. “Michelle, that girl cannot be in that home. If you don’t call and have them taken away, I will. The best thing you can do for her is be the one who reports it so you can be sure she is safe and taken care of.”

  I bite my lip, unsure of how to proceed. We’re walking on such a fine line. What she’s suggesting is having a daughter snatched away from her father. I’ve seen it happen countless times as a teacher, and I know that something like this will destroy a girl like Maddie. She’d be bounced around from house to house, from system to system while Cal tries to prove he’s a good guy with a stable home. It’ll be years before this clears up and who knows what kind of life either of them will lead during that time.

  When I don’t respond she sits next to me and slowly says, “I know you don’t want to mess with the gang and that you don’t want to see Maddie get taken from Cal, but this is for the best. Just call tomorrow and ask if there’s been any other reports made. It’s just a first step. It doesn’t have to go any further than that. But it will get the ball rolling in the right direction.”

  I reach over, grab my bag, and take out a pen and paper. I scribble down the number for Child Protective Services and fold it neatly into a square. I’m not going to call tonight; there’s been enough drama for me to handle at this point. Each one of us – Maddie, Erin, Cal, and I – needs a break and some time off to cool down.

  But as I shut my eyes and drift off, all I dream about is fire and a flame that cannot be put out.

  Chapter 18: The Storm

  CAL

  By the time I get back upstairs, Maddie’s face-down in her books, fast asleep. Her little body is hunched over her white wooden desk and a white notecard is still clasped in her hand. As I pick her up and place her into bed, she mutters something that sounds an awful lot like, “Benedict Arnold.”

  I sit with her for a while, stroking her hair back to her side. Like all fathers, I’m amazed at how much she has grown in what feels like a short amount of time. Every day that passes by, she looks more and more like her mother. Her nose is mine. Her mouth is mine. But those wide hazel eyes and those high cheekbones are all from April.

  April was the exact kind of woman for me. She, like m
e, had been raised a Mustang. It was in her blood. Her daddy had taught her to ride as soon as she could reach the handlebars. And as dumbass teens, we stole bikes belonging to club members and rode off onto the highway.

  But, unlike me, she wanted to get away. Her mom had left earlier, had broken from the pack after the divorce. However, I pushed her to stay. I don’t know what life is like outside of a clubhouse full of men. I didn’t even get through high school. All I know is riding and back alley business. And when I wouldn’t go with her and make a new life, April became the version of me I hated.

  She was dark, one of the most ruthless girls. She took other lovers, even with me rising in the ranks. She insisted on going on routes with the boys, even after Maddie was born. And, after a year or two, she tried to push Jager to initiate her in as a full rider. The day she was killed, the guys finally agreed to make an exception to the rules for her. We buried her with her 1% patch.