by B. B. Hamel
I walked slowly up the aisle. Janine took my arm and smiled at me. Every eye was glued on me and the small bouquet of flowers I held.
Ford’s face broke out into the cockiest smile I’d ever seen, and for a second that felt like it gave me strength.
We made it up front. I stood across from Ford, inches apart, while Larkin looked on at us.
“Well,” Larkin said, “I’ve officiated several biker weddings, but this is about the strangest one in my time,” he said. The crowd gave him a laugh. “And who would have thought Ford would wear a damn suit?”
“He looks pretty!” someone shouted.
“Yes, he does,” Larkin said, chuckling. “So, here in the Demons MC, we don’t have much room for religion. You can believe any damn thing you want to, but when it comes to a wedding, we choose our own vows. So, Ford, what do you want to say to this girl?”
He cleared his throat. “Caralee, I’ve known you since you were a girl. As long as I know you, I’ll keep you safe.”
Larkin nodded. “Well said. Caralee?”
My mind went completely blank.
Everyone was staring at me.
Especially Ford.
“I love riding on the back of bikes because of you,” I blurted out.
The room burst out laughing. I turned beet red, but Ford was smiling big.
“That’s one hell of a compliment,” Larkin said, laughing.
I looked down at my feet, smiling and blushing.
“Okay, Ford, put the damn ring on her finger,” Larkin said.
Ford took my hand. I felt tingles run up my spine. He kept his eyes locked on mine as he slipped the gold ring down along my finger.
“Okay. Caralee, your turn.”
Janine handed me the ring. I took Ford’s hand and slid the ring down his finger.
“Well, by the power vested in me by the state of Texas, thanks to the damn internet, I now pronounce you man and wife. Kiss the girl, Ford.”
Ford wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up against his body.
I lost my mind for a second. I couldn’t think, not at all, as his lips pressed against mine.
My whole body was on fire. My veins were pumping lava as he kissed me, and I kissed him back.
It wasn’t the kind of kiss you did in a church. It was the kind of kiss I’d been wanting from him, dreaming about from him, needing from him.
He kissed me hard, fast, his tongue entering my mouth, his body pressed against mine.
I gave myself to his kiss, gave myself to him.
In that moment, I realized that if he hadn’t claimed me before, he was definitely claiming me right then.
Slowly, the kiss broke apart, and I became aware of the room cheering.
I looked up, taking a breath. I felt like I was waking up from a dream, my head dizzy, my whole face tingling.
“Hell yeah!” Clutch called. “That was one fucking kiss!”
The room hooted, and even Janine was laughing. Ford flipped them all off, laughing along with them.
Soon we were whisked away to the bar where everyone joined us. The drinks flowed freely, and the music was turned up loud. More and more members slowly started showing up as the hours passed and the day turned into evening.
I felt drunk, though I didn’t drink much. Ford stayed by my side every second of the day, making jokes, talking to other members, and laughing.
It was a biker wedding through and through. There was cursing, even a small fight, and lots of alcohol. And I had so much fun. For the first time since Rod had been killed, I found that I was actually letting go and trying to enjoy myself.
Eventually I found myself alone with Ford in a corner of the room.
“What’d you think, wife?” he asked me.
“It was interesting.” I wasn’t sure what I was doing with him, what was happening, but I was happy. I looked at my hand and felt the ring, felt the strange weight, the strange metal, and felt good.
Terrified, but good.
“Biker wedding,” he said, shrugging. “We’re not big on ceremony, but we’re big on drinking.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Yeah. I figured that one out.”
“You know, you look damn good, Caralee.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean it. You’re the hottest piece of fucking ass in this building.”
I laughed again, shaking my head. “You really have a way with words.”
He grinned, standing close to me. “What can I say? I feel what I feel.”
“What do you feel right now?”
“Fucking hard for you. I’m practically tearing these pants apart thinking about making your body sweat.”
“Ford,” I said, not sure what I was saying.
“You know you thought it the moment you saw me that night, Caralee. You thought you wanted a taste of what it would be like.” He moved closer to me, his hands at my hips, pulling me against him.
I gasped as I felt his hard cock against my body.
“You know you’ve been thinking about it. You want to suck my cock. You want to ride my face. You want my tongue on your clit, making you scream.”
“I don’t know,” I said, breathless.
“I know. You’re soaked, been soaked all day. That pussy is begging to be fucked, to feel my thick cock filling it up.”
“What do you want?” I whispered.
“I want to take you home and consummate this damn marriage. I want to make you feel something you weren’t sure you could feel.”
I blinked up at him, my lips slightly parted, every fiber of my being standing on end for him, charged for him. Excitement, desire, lust, it all flowed through me, needing him, wanting him.
Maybe I’d lost my mind, or maybe I’d finally figured it all out.
But I found myself saying, “Okay. Take me home.”
And then he grabbed me by the waist, pulled me against him, and kissed me hard.
Another rush of blood through my body, lightning, bolts of desire. My pussy was flooded, soaked, tingling. Every fingertip was on fire, my face a numb mess of need and want.
The kiss broke off, and he dragged me through the party by my hand. A few people laughed and cheered as we left, but I could barely hear them.
He tossed me on his bike, putting his helmet on over my head, and hopped on the front. He kicked the bike into gear, the engine roaring to life, and we tore out of there.
I clung to his body, my whole chest pounding, my brain buzzing.
I didn’t know what the hell I was thinking.
But I felt good.
On the back of his bike, racing toward his cabin, I felt damn good.
And I wanted him to make me feel better.
We pulled up to his cabin, my heart pounding in my chest. He cut the engine and stepped off, pulling me along behind him.
“Ford,” I said, “hold on.”
He stopped and turned toward me, standing on the porch. He grabbed my hips and pulled me against him, staring down at me.
“No,” he said. “I’m sick of waiting. I’m taking what I want, Caralee.”
“Ford . . .” I said softly. “This has to be a bad idea.”
“If it feels bad, you can stop it.” He kissed my neck softly, his lips brushing against my ear. “But I promise, it won’t feel bad.”
He crushed his lips against mine, and I felt that incredible rush of emotion and pleasure shoot through my skull. I took a deep breath through my nose as he pulled away, practically kicking his door open.
We moved inside, and he slammed it and locked it behind us. I stood looking at him in his kitchen, biting my lip.
“Fuck, that dress,” he said. “You look so god damn sexy. I want to see you take it off.”
“You want to watch?”
“Strip for me. Take it off nice and slow.”
I blushed but slowly slipped my arms out. He stared at my body as I pulled the dress down, exposing my breasts, tugging it down over my hips. He took a step toward me, and I ste
pped back, biting my lip, my breasts exposed, my soaking panties cold in the cool cabin air.
“Don’t act shy,” he said. “We both know what you want, Caralee. You want me to suck that clit until you scream my name.”
“I don’t know what I want,” I said as he pulled me against him, kissing my neck, feeling my breasts. “I can barely think.”
“Good,” he said. “Let me take over. I know how to make you feel good, girl.” I felt his fingers drift down my stomach, over my hips, toward my soaked pussy.
I could barely stand it. I crushed my mouth against his, kissing him furiously, as he slipped his fingers down beneath my soaked and useless panties, finding my clit.
Pleasure exploded through me as he began to work my clit, rubbing softly, his rough fingers moving in delicious circles.
I practically shivered joy. “I knew you wanted it,” he said in my ear, kissing me. “You’re fucking soaked, Caralee. You want me to slide my thick cock between your legs, don’t you?”
“Oh shit, Ford,” I said. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re my wife now,” he said, and I could practically feel his wicked grin against my neck.
“But for how long?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed me back and lifted me, pressing me down onto his kitchen table.
He pressed himself between my legs, and I wrapped them around him, kissing him hard. I reached down and untucked his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it. He moved back and tossed his suit jacket aside.
“Where’d you even get a suit?” I asked, laughing as he unbuttoned his shirt.
“Borrowed it from a fucking pledge,” he said.
“Looks good on you.”
“Don’t get used to it.” He slipped his shirt off, tossing it aside. I pressed my hands against his ripped body, tracing the black ink along his chest down toward his abs.
He began to kiss my neck and breasts, teasing my nipples with his tongue. “Nobody is coming here, right?”
“You worry too much,” he said and pushed me back. I felt him pull my panties off, and before I could say anything, he hooked my legs with his arms and pressed his mouth against my pussy.
I gripped the edges of the table as he began to lick me furiously, sucking and licking my clit. I couldn’t help but lose myself completely in him, in his mouth and tongue. He worked my clit like he was a starving man, and maybe he was.
“Oh my god,” I moaned. “Holy shit, Ford.”
“You taste fucking perfect,” he said, “better than I imagined. Been thinking about eating this pussy for a long time.”
I felt him slip a finger deep inside me as he kept licking, sucking at my clit. I was absolutely losing it, pleasure rolling in waves through my body. He was incredible, his fingers practiced, his mouth skillful as he ate and sucked, licking along my swollen clit.
“I want to taste your cum, girl,” he said.” I want to hear my new wife come up in my mouth.”
“Ford,” I moaned. “Oh my god.” He was so dirty, absolutely filthy, and although it made me blush, it also heightened it.
“You fucking like getting eaten by me right on this table, you dirty girl. You’re my dirty wife, my old lady. I want this pussy to come hard. I want you to scream my name.” He kept working my pussy, licking and sucking, stopping only to talk dirty to me.
His fingers meanwhile kept fucking my pussy while he licked and sucked. I couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t do anything but lose myself in his words and his fingers and his mouth as he kept working me, harder and deeper.
I reached down and grabbed his hair, pressing my breasts together, pushing his mouth harder against my pussy. I could feel it building.
“That’s right,” he grunted. “Fucking come for me, you dirty girl, my dirty fucking wife.”
“Oh shit, Ford,” I moaned. “Oh my god. Keep eating my pussy. Keep licking me. Keep going.”
He licked and worked my clit with a renewed passion, his fingers fucking me, working my pussy. I ground my hips up against his face, desperate for it, starving for it.
“Ford,” I breathed, moaning. “Ford, oh fuck, Ford.”
“Come for me,” he commanded. “I want to taste it. Come for me, wife.”
And I did. I felt it wash over me, starting in my clit and rolling out in waves, causing my whole body to twitch, convulse. Every muscle tensed and contracted as my mind went completely blank, empty. There was only the orgasm washing over me as Ford fucked my pussy with his fingers, sucked my clit with his lips.
Slowly, it passed over, and Ford stepped back from me, grinning hugely. I lay there on the table, looking down at him, panting and still high on the orgasm.
He slowly began to unbuckle his belt. “That was just the start,” he said.
“How can there be more?”
He laughed wickedly, tossing the belt aside, and slipped off his pants. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a condom.
“Come here,” he commanded.
I climbed down off the table.
“Kneel,” he said.
I knelt down, looking up at him, my whole body pulsing.
I reached up and pulled down his boxer briefs. His thick, full cock was hard as hell as I grabbed its base and slowly began to stroke him.
“I want to see you suck that cock,” he said. “Fuck, I want to see it down your fucking throat.”
“Like this?” I asked, and I slowly licked him root to tip.
He grunted. “Fuck yes, girl. Take that big cock in your pretty mouth. Suck it like you never sucked anything before.”
I slowly took his tip between my lips and began to suck him up and down. He was big, bigger than I’d ever had before, and I loved the taste of his pre-cum and the way he groaned his pleasure.
“Go ahead. Suck that cock,” he said. “Don’t be fucking shy. Make it messy. Suck it hard.”
I began to suck him hard, working him, using my hand to trace the spit along his shaft.
“Fuck yes,” he said. “Look up at me.”
I looked at him, stroking his cock.
“God. You’re so fucking sexy with my cock in your mouth.”
I began to suck him again, looking up at him. He stared down at me, his eyes hungry as hell. I loved the feeling of his hard dick between my lips, loved sucking him, making him feel good. He pressed my face down harder, pushing more of his thick cock into my throat, and I let him. I took all of him, putting my hands on his hips as he slowly thrust his cock between my lips.
I loved how strong he was, how he took control and told me exactly what he wanted. I sucked him harder, pushing back, working him with my hand and my lips.
“God damn that feels good,” he grunted. “I’ve been wanting you to suck this cock for a long time.”
I kept working him, tasting him, sucking his thick cock. For some reason I didn’t feel shy around him, didn’t feel reserved like I had in the past. I wanted to lose myself, to give him what he wanted. I let myself suck his cock, let myself be messy and free as I worked my spit along his shaft.
Finally, he stepped back, pulling me to my feet.
“Fuck I need that pussy,” he said. “Tell me you want this cock deep inside you.”
“Please,” I said.
He grabbed me and dragged me over to the couch, sitting down. He ripped open the condom he had in his hand and rolled it down over his cock.
“Get on,” he said.
I straddled his hips, looking him in the eyes. He took my ass and slowly lowered me down while thrusting up, pushing himself inside me.
I let out a gasp, throwing my head back. The pleasurable pain of his big cock rushed through me as he began to kiss my breasts, my neck.
“Oh shit,” he said. “You’re fucking tight as hell.”
“My god,” I said. “I don’t know how you even fit.”
He grinned. “Fuck, girl, this is just the start of it. Now ride this fucking cock.”
I began to slowly move my hips up, riding up and down, sliding
along his cock. He slapped my ass, grinning.
“Don’t be fucking shy,” he said. “Ride that cock like I know you want it.”
I began to move my hips a little faster, savoring the sweet pain of him, loving the pleasure that flooded through me as he kissed my neck. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my hands in his hair, as I continued to work him, moving my ass, my hips, my back.
He grabbed me and began to thrust, pushing himself deep inside me. He had this intense look on his face, and I couldn’t help but kiss him, biting his lip. He laughed and fucked me harder.
“You like it a little rough, a little dirty,” he said. “You want to get fucked rough by a biker like me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I moaned. “Oh my god yes. Don’t be gentle.”
He grunted and fucked me harder, slapping my ass hard. I moaned and said his name as he fucked me, his thick cock filling me up. I didn’t know how he even fit, how I could even take him, but I kept working my hips as he thrust into me, kept moving. I could feel the sweat on my body and his, and I fucking loved it.
I touched his chest, feeling his strong muscles as I kept working my hips, taking his cock. He fucked me deep, rough, hard, his hands grabbing my hips, slapping my ass.
“I love this fucking ass,” he said. “This sweet fucking ass.” He slapped it again and I moaned. “You love getting spanked, you dirty girl. My wife the fucking slut. I love giving you my fucking cock, and you need it.”
I moaned as he talked dirty, filthy. “I love this cunt, this soaking-wet cunt. Filling you up, fucking you rough. I want you to take it like you can’t live without my thick cock.”
He fucked me hard, deep, whispering into my ear. He bit my lower lip and kissed me, thrusting hard, harder, and I was losing myself.
Then he pressed my hips down and up, pulling me off him. I gasped as he slid free. He grabbed my hips, lifting me up, and stood. He pushed me over, putting my knees onto the couch, pressing me over, my ass in the air.
“Fuck I love this sweet cunt,” he said, teasing my pussy with his fingers. I moaned, looking back at him.
“Fuck me, Ford,” I said. “I’m so fucking close again.”