CHEYENNE
I awoke to a large hand drifting from my neck down my chest, between my breasts, down my belly to slowly slide between my legs. It then turned and grabbed my thigh so it could hitch it back and over the thigh that belonged to the hand.
Finally waking up enough, I realized where I was, and who was doing all the touching. Sam.
Sam's hand returned between my thighs and cupped my sex.
In a sleep roughened voice he asked "Sore?"
"No.” I lied.
I was sore. His cock was massive. But I wasn’t sore enough to deny myself Sam again.
He slowly slipped one finger in my vagina and buried it up to the webbing of his fingers. My breath hitched and I let out a low moan as pain and pleasure collided inside of me.
His finger did several in and out maneuvers until finally his hand fell away and I felt him take hold of his cock and position it at my entrance. He exerted a slight pressure to my hips and I rocked back against him until he was buried to the hilt deep inside me. I felt so full, the feeling compared to nothing I had ever experienced before.
He took control then and slowly rocked his hips forward and back. I reached my hand back and buried my fingers into his hair and pulled.
He growled and his thrusts became deeper. His hand traveled up my body and cupped my breast in his hand. His whole hand seemed to dwarf my small breast, but that didn't seem to deter him. He rolled my nipple back and forth between his thumb and finger, pinching slightly. I had the urge to tell him to pinch harder, but held my tongue.
I got closer and closer to the pinnacle but I felt like I needed something more, so I moaned out "More" to him and he seemed to know what I needed.
Rolling us both, I ended up on my stomach while he went up to his knees behind me. He then yanked my knees up under me and pushed his hand between my shoulder blades to keep them from rising off of the mattress. He buried his fingers in my hair and tugged back slightly, just a hint of pain.
Finally in the desired position, he went to town. He pulled all the way out so his cock was kissing the entrance to my vagina, then with a brutal thrust buried himself in me, bottoming out when he hit my cervix.
“Don’t stop!” I begged when he hesitated for a second.
“Honey, I won’t stop until your legs are shaking and the neighbor’s know my name.” He said, and then started again with deep thrust after deep thrust.
This seemed to be what I needed, and my orgasm rushed up on me so suddenly that I let out a high pitch wail and exploded. My vagina muscles clamped down on his cock so hard they literally forced him out of my vagina, but he was not deterred. He forged ahead again and rode me until his own orgasm burst forth, and I felt his come jet out in spurts against my cervix. My knees gave out, and he collapsed on top of me.
Both of us were breathing hard, breath sawing in and out of our lungs like we had just run a sprint relay. I know Sam was in excellent shape just by looking at his body. It wasn’t the type of body you got by lifting weights. No, his body was one from demanding physical labor. His arms looked like they could bench press three of me. Not that I will tell how much three of me weighs.
“I forgot to say your name.” I said, still panting.
“That’s ok; your wail burst my ear drums.” He soothed, patting my ass lightly.
He slowly lifted his body up and slid out of me. Wetness again trickled out of my vagina to run through the hair covering my mound, then settling on the sheets below me. I never really thought of the aspects of sex before, but I never thought it would be so messy. The only experience that I have was romance novels, and never once did they talk about the body fluids afterwards.
He threw himself to the side and mumbled "Fuck."
Grabbing me and pulling me half on top of him with my head resting on his shoulder and my leg hitched up over his, we fell in to a companionable silence as we recovered. My hand rested on his sixteen pack, and I trailed my hand lower tracing the V of his lower abdominals.
My mind decided that now should be the time that I say what needed to be said.
“That was wonderful. Let’s do it again.” Is what I had intended to say, but what came out was, “I’m not a whore.”
“Yea, I got that. You were a virgin, kind of hard to be a whore. Plus if I'd have thought you were, I would have never asked you to get on the back of my bike.
Damn. He sure did kill that worry.
"I have to ride out in an hour. We need to get dressed so I can drop you off at your car before I leave." He whispered into my hair.
He caressed my hair one last time, and then gave me an ass slap, as if saying, “Ok, time to get up.”
Trying not to be offended that he was kicking me out, I rolled to my back and out of bed and walked to what I assumed was a bathroom. Yep, it's a bathroom. It had a claw foot stainless steel tub that was to die for. The countertops were also stainless steel. Guess that was his favorite color. The bath towels were a navy blue, and worked well for the space.
“Get on with it, bitch.” I said to myself when I opened the door.
I walked in and did my business. Trying hard not to think about the fact that the wetness between my legs meant I forgot something important. I washed my hands and face at the sink, and studied my surroundings.
I decided to be nosy, so I opened his medicine cabinet and looked inside. There was a razor, shaving cream, some Band-Aids, ibuprofen, and a prescription of sleeping pills. Everything was lined up in perfect little rows according to size, and my messy self couldn’t stand it, so I messed it all up and moved it around. Obviously he was anal about order, and it made me laugh out loud when I thought about him coming in here and seeing the mess that I made.
Finished in the bathroom I walked back into the bedroom to find my clothes piled on the end of the bed. I slipped by bra and panties on. Then my jeans and tank. Slipped my feet into my boots and headed out to the kitchen where he had coffee waiting.
I declined the offer when he nodded at the pot. I glanced at his appliances and noticed that those were stainless steel as well. Jesus. Even the countertops in here were the same.
"No thanks. I don't do coffee. It makes me hyper." I supplied as an explanation.
He cracked a half smile and motioned for me to head out. Apparently he was a man of few words. So that's what I did, heading for the front door. At least his living room looked a little homier. He had a micro suede sectional couch that looked extremely comfortable. There was a huge flat screen mounted to the wall, satellite receiver and an Xbox console on a shelf underneath of it.
I walked in front of him out the door and to his bike. He got on and then offered the hand just as he did the night before. I took his hand and settled myself plastered up against him without having to be prompted. I glanced around the area, noticing other bikes parked outside doors as well. One had a red Toyota Corolla, but other than that it was dominated by motorcycles.
“What is this place?” I asked him.
“Compound.” He said.
I waited for more but it never came, so I asked him another question.
“Compound for what?” I questioned.
“For my men.” He clipped.
“Like what? The guys who work for you?” I continued.
“Yeah.” He said. “Like that.”
He started the bike with a roar and shot forward making me squeal in surprise and elation. My arms wound around his waist and squeezed tight. He chuckled and patted my thigh. It was like one of those roller coasters that makes your belly feel like it was dropping right before a big drop. I always thought motorcycles were unsafe, but came to a quick realization that Sam was in complete control of this powerful bike.
He was vigilant looking for other drivers. His eyes took in everything around him. He switched lanes when he noticed a car that didn’t see us. He anticipated absolutely everything.
The drive to my truck was freeing. Although the motorcycle helmet obstructed some of my view, I rather enjoyed seeing my littl
e town without the confines of vehicle. The morning felt unusually cool with the wind ripping past us. My hair was flying all around me, and would most likely be a rat’s nest by the time I got to the truck. I rounded my shoulders a bit and leaned a little more into Sam, hoping he would block the chilly wind some. Noticing this, at the next stop he leaned forward and took off his leather jacket, handing it to me without a word. Obviously the man missed nothing. I slipped my arms into it and relished the heat that instantly surrounded me.
Feeling better now, I looked around thinking that maybe it would be nice to go on a long road trip to see the sights. Finally we arrived at my truck, and he pulled up on the driver’s side.
He held his hand out as if motioning for me to get off, so that's what I did. Thinking that was a nice brush-off, I turned and started to round my truck when he looped a finger through my belt loop and yanked me so that I landed in his lap. His hands shot out and up and buried in my hair as his mouth connected with mine.
Moaning into his mouth he finally let me go and helped me stand. My legs felt wobbly, so I waited a few moments until I could get my wits about me again.
He held out his hand, so I did the first thing that popped into my mind and have him a high five. He shook his head like he couldn't believe that I had just done that and laughed.
He snapped his fingers and said "Phone" to me. How the heck was I supposed to get phone out of that, I don’t know. Assuming he meant that he wanted me to hand him my phone, I reached into my pocket and gave it to him.
He fiddled with it for a few minutes and I heard his phone chirp.
Handing it back to me he said, "Gotta go. Call me when you get off.”
Nodding my head I rounded the truck, started it up and was out of the parking lot with a whoosh. I glanced in my rear view mirror and noticed that he waited to leave until he could no longer see my truck anymore.
Oh my god. That was the best night of my life. By far. Hands down. No holds barred. Better than cookie cake from the Great American Cookie Factory. Yes, nothing for the rest of my life would ever top this night. Too bad I would never call him, and he would probably never call me.
∞
Arriving home, I went straight to the kitchen and thanked Mrs. Kowalsky for watching Janie for the night. After my third thank you she gave me a knowing smile. What did I have de-flowered stamped on my forehead now?
“It was a birthday present dear; I know you don’t get out enough. I enjoy little Ms. Janie, she was the highlight of my week. I haven’t had much use since Darryl died. Watching her makes me feel alive again. I am here anytime you need me.” She gushed.
Giving her a warm hug, she left briefly after.
Turning around to look at Janie in her high chair, I smiled and said, “You look so much like your daddy. You make me miss him even more. I can’t wait until he comes home!”
She gave me a happy smile, and continued babbling about something that I couldn’t understand.
“Alright my favorite little hellion, it’s time to get going. I have to be at work shortly, so let’s get a move on!”
I tried hard not to think about Sam, and our wonderful night we spent together as I got Janie ready and started my day. I had way too many things to do today to be worrying about any of the consequences that night may have had. I told myself I would worry about it tonight, when I had more time to think rationally, and maybe I could share with Ember and she could give me a better perspective on things. Or maybe not, because Ember was a romantic, and she would probably make more of this that there was to make.
SAM
Same day 8:00 p.m.
“Motherfucker!” I yelled when the wrench slipped off the bolt scraping my knuckles on the nut I was tightening on the latest job.
I was having a problem concentrating. She hadn’t called. It had been hours, and I was getting tired of waiting. The guys were giving me a wide birth, trying not to disturb me. I felt bad, but I couldn’t seem to help it.
Deciding to take a break, I put the wrench into my back pocket, and then pulled out my cell phone thinking for the 100th time that maybe I should just call her. But I had a rule, I didn’t chase, so if she wanted me she would have to be the one to make the first move.
Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I walked past Max, Gabe, and Elliott, who were each working on different bikes.
When Max was injured in the IED in Iraq, I decided that I was plain tired of all the bureaucracy bullshit, and came to the decision that I wanted to take my skills and put it to use elsewhere, somewhere that I didn’t have so many restrictions and unknowns.
Max’s accident had been a wakeup call for me. The road we were on was supposedly checked over right before we were to pass through it; time was of the essence, so we entrusted the higher ups with our lives and took them at their word that the road had been checked over thoroughly. We were supposed to go extract a hostage and get out, but before we even got there the Vee was struck by an IED beside the road that had been “checked” not only minutes before.
Jack had warned Elliott with seconds to spare, and he changed course just enough that we took only minimal damage. Everyone was alright except for Max, who had bleeding from his ear and had passed out. When he regained consciousness, he could no longer hear what was being said out of that ear, but we just assumed that his hearing would come back.
We made it to where the hostage was being held, but there was no sign of anybody throughout the deserted houses, and likely there hadn’t been for a long while. The superior officers blamed bad intel, but if the bad intelligence was going to get my men and I killed, I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. So I had the discussion with my men, and we all agreed that we would get out as soon as possible.
So I decided to start a garage in Kilgore as a front, and we helped those in need of the type of services that we excelled at. The services ranged from hostage recovery to making abused women disappear so they could live a better life away from those who harmed them.
Max and another under my command were from Kilgore. I didn’t have a real home, so I decided that Kilgore was as good as any. We moved around a lot when I was a kid; my mom and I were on the run from my abusive old man. He always seemed to find us, which I later found out was quite easy for him since he was a powerful man and could hire anyone to get the job done. He was the president of a MC, and had the help of around one hundred people that pledged their loyalty to him. They did highly illegal things, which made their profits astronomical. The MC wasn’t all bad, but for the most part I detested my life with them and couldn’t wait for the day I could get out.
I thanked God at eighteen that I could join the army and be somewhere that was out of his reach. I vowed that I would become someone that he would think twice about messing with. I worried about leaving my mom behind, but she explained to me that not having me to worry about any longer would make it easier for her to disappear as well.
The sound of an air wrench pierced the silence of the garage. Shaking my head to rid myself of my trip down memory lane, I walked into the office to the fridge and grabbed a Dr. Pepper. I sat down at the desk, propped my feet up on the top and leaned back in the chair while closing my eyes.
My moment was interrupted by my phone ringing in my pocket. I dug it out and tapped accept with my finger, putting it up to my ear.
“Yeah?” I said into the phone.
“I sent a woman to you. Abusive ex. She should be there late tomorrow.” I heard Jack say over the airwaves.
“Ok, I’ll keep an eye out for her, thanks for the heads up. Anything new with your old man?” I asked
“No, he won’t make it through the end of the week.” He said gruffly.
“I’m sorry man, take the time. We’ll be alright till you get back. Keep me updated.” I said. He agreed and hung up.
Jack’s old man meant the world to him. He was the type of father that every kid wished to have. He would move heaven and earth for his son, and taught his son to do the same for his
friends and loved ones. His old man would send care packages, knowing what we needed because he had been a soldier himself. We were claimed by him, whether we had fathers or not. He would do anything he could for us. He even checked in on my mom when I wasn’t able to get a hold of her for a week.
This news put a damper on the moods of all the men, and we were waiting for the call that he had passed before we packed up shop and headed to Odessa for his funeral. Hopefully it wouldn’t be much longer, the old guy had suffered a lot towards the end, he had pancreatic cancer, and by the time the doctors had found it had been too late and already had spread to his lymph nodes.
“Max!” I yelled out.
Max lumbered into the office raising his eyebrows at me in question.
“Just got a call from Jack, old man is still alive, but they don’t expect him to make it through the end of the week. He sent us a woman. I want you to keep an eye on her and take point on this. You may need to stay behind when we take off for Odessa and stay with her, teaching her what she needs to know.”
“Okay, I’ll do that.” He said lightly, and then headed back out to the garage bay.
I headed back into the garage and started back working on the chopper. Time to get some work done; we were going to have a few extra expenses soon. My grandmother set up a trust fund to be released to me when I was thirty, and I had used around half of that money to build the compound and fund the FreeBird project. I was paid rent monthly by the guys who stayed here, and our bike business was nothing to sneeze at either. We had a lot of business since our shop was one of only two in the area.
The call came later that night that Jack’s father had died right after his phone call with me. Everyone but Max got packed. We headed for Odessa to stay for the funeral, and then help with the house if Jack needed it. The only good thing coming from this was that I wouldn’t worry about Cheyenne. If she still hasn’t called by the time I get back, then I will make the move.
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