FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME

by Scott Hildreth

  Riley laughed. “You never know.”

  Stevie glanced at the clock and shook her head. “I’m frustrated as fuck.”

  “Why?” Riley asked.

  “I need some dick. I’ve been here for two weeks and haven’t been laid yet. I really need somebody to beat my shit up,” Stevie said as she turned away.

  “You know any bikers with big cocks?” she asked over her shoulder as she sat down at her drawing table.

  “Some of the guys from that MC have been in here in the last few weeks, maybe one of ‘em will come in sometime,” I said as I jumped off my stool.

  “A real MC? Like a one-percenter MC?” she asked.

  I nodded my head. “Selected Sinners.”

  “No shit. Fuck yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” Stevie said.

  “I’ve got Axton’s number. He’s the president,” Riley said.

  Stevie turned around, crossed her arms, and glared at Riley. “You’ve got the number of the president of a one-percent club on your phone?”

  “Uh huh,” Riley said as she pulled her phone from her purse.

  Stevie glanced in my direction. Behind her on her drawing table, several Styrofoam heads covered in various brightly colored wigs caused me to grin. She had drawn eyes, noses, and lips on each of the otherwise blank faces with the exception of one. The words ‘Bad as Fuck” were drawn on the last of the faces, and an arrow pointed toward upward, toward the pink wig.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Friend of the family.”

  “Tell him I’ll trade a nice chest piece for some cock,” she said as she turned away.

  “No trading sex for tats,” I said.

  “Fine, tell him I need some dick. I’m sure he’ll figure something out,” she said as she sat down at her table and began drawing.

  “He wants a pic,” Riley said.

  “You already texted him?” Stevie asked.

  Riley nodded her head. “Yeah, he said they’re at the bar and he wants a pic.”

  Stevie slid off the edge of her stool, turned toward us, and tugged against the bottom of her shirt slightly, revealing a reasonable amount of cleavage. After shaking her head back and forth, her purple-tipped hair fell along the top of her chest. She flashed a huge smile and waited.

  “Well, quit staring and take a pic, perv,” she said.

  Riley glanced at me, raised her phone in the air, and snapped a few pictures. Stevie released the bottom of her shirt, turned away, and began drawing.

  “All this sex talk…” Riley whispered.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked innocently.

  Riley draped her arms over my shoulders and gazed into my eyes. “I want some biker dick,” she whispered.

  I glanced around the shop and eventually fixed my eyes on hers. “Anyone in particular?”

  She grinned, leaned into me, and kissed me softly. “Tonight, not tomorrow. Not next week. Not when you’re caught up. Tonight.”

  Denying Riley of her much needed dick wasn’t on my to-do list. In fact, I had quite the opposite planned.

  “Tonight it is,” I said with a nod.

  “Good,” she said. “Now get to hammering that needle in my arm. I’m itching for another tat.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “I don’t care,” she responded. “I’m just wanting something. Maybe add some color?”

  “Natural born killer,” Stevie hollered over her shoulder.

  The unmistakable sound of approaching motorcycles shook the storefront glass. Riley leaned back and turned toward the front of the shop and I jumped from my stool. As I peered over the partition and into the street, bike after bike rode past, turned around, and parked in front of the shop in a row.

  Stevie stood on her toes, glanced toward the street, and turned to face Riley. “Tell me that’s them.”

  “It’s them,” Riley responded.

  “A fucking smorgasbord,” Stevie said with a laugh.

  The door opened and although I didn’t see Axton, the first man through the door caused me to take a second glance. It had been roughly twenty years since I’d seen him, but I’d never forget his distinct walk, the smirk he always had on his face, or the prominent scar over his left eye from wrecking the bicycle during the big jump. It just appeared he had grown a few inches and gained sixty pounds or so, all of which seemed to be solid muscle.

  I cleared my throat and walked around the partition. “Jackson?”

  He shifted his eyes toward me. “Guilty as charged. What can I do…”

  I stood and stared. He gazed back at me and eventually his mouth changed from his permanent smirk into a slight smile. “Little man. Holy fucking hell. Little man.”

  I nodded my head. “How you been?”

  “Never better,” he said. “That your bagger out front?”

  Beaming with pride, I nodded my head. “Yep. Normally park it in the back, but…”

  “Finally upgraded from that shitty old Schwinn, huh?” he asked.

  “The fucking Schwinn. Shit, wish I still had that fucker. Damn, it’s nice to see you,” I said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Well,” he said. “I need a quote for some work, and a couple of the fellas here wanted to meet your other artist, Stevie.”

  Five men stood behind him, all standing with their arms crossed, and all wearing their leather vests.

  I shook my head. “Yeah, my Ol’ Lady is friends with Axton, and I think she might have shot him a text about Stevie, but I had…uhhm…no idea you...this is crazy. But…uhhm…yeah…Stevie. She just moved in from San Diego. Hold on…”

  I put my arm around Riley and squeezed her shoulder in my hand. “Riley, this is Jackson Shephard. He and I, uhhm…he and I grew up together.”

  “That we did,” he said as he extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Riley said as she shook his hand.

  “And this…” I paused and turned around.

  Stevie stood immediately to my right and a few feet behind me.

  “This is Stevie,” I said as I waved my hand in her direction.

  He nodded his head. “Well, I’m not here for that. I got an Ol’ Lady.”

  “Listen up,” Stevie hollered, interrupting our conversation and clearly taking charge of the situation.

  “I don’t ever fuck with anyone but bikers, and I’ll only fuck with a biker if he’s got a big dick. I’ve got a foul mouth, a shitty attitude, and an insatiable desire. I’m no whore, and I won’t be treated like one. If you’re looking to hit it and quit it, you can forget it. I’m not your girl. If you want an Ol’ Lady who’ll out drink ya, out fuck ya, and probably out cuss ya, I’m your girl,” she shouted.

  “How many’s that leave?” she asked.

  Jackson chuckled and turned around. “Vince?”

  A tall muscular guy with dark hair and an obvious attitude sauntered toward Jackson. Stevie stepped to the side, studied him, and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  “What’s your road name?” she asked.

  He pointed to his patch, “Vince.”

  Stevie coughed a laugh. “That’s your road name?”

  “Yep. Name’s Stephen. They call me Vince,” he said.

  “You qualified?” she asked.

  He stood and stared for a moment and then shook his head and grinned. “Look, I came up here after Slice showed us your pic at the bar. Thought you were a cute little fucker. Seem a little crazy for my taste now that I’m here. I ain’t lookin’ to add a bunch of drama in my fucking life. Shit, I just got rid of an Ol’ Lady for bein’ a drama queen. Well, that and a whore. Nice to meet ya, though.”

  Jackson chuckled and shook his head. The thought of it all seemed crazy to me. Riley stood at my side shifting her eyes between Stevie and Vince, anxiously waiting for someone to speak. As I suspected, Stevie broke the silence.

  “I’m not a whore, and I’m not crazy. I’m just some chick that loves bikes, appreciates the freedom of riding, and
appreciates one-percenters for being who they are. I’m a lot of fucking fun, really,” she said.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “What’s a one percenter mean to you? Who am I?”

  I glanced at Riley and grinned. This was good shit for sure.

  “Well, being an outlaw. Fuck the man, fuck society. Riding isn’t a fucking hobby, and it’s not really a way of life, it is life. You see that mountain bike outside?” she asked.

  “Chained up by the door?” he asked.

  Stevie nodded her head. “I rode that motherfucker six miles here instead of taking a ride in a cage.”

  “Is that so,” he said.

  Stevie nodded her head. “So…”

  “I’ll be back,” he said with a nod. “We’ll go for a ride.”

  As he turned and walked out the door, everyone followed but Jackson.

  “Crazy fuckers,” Jackson said.

  “So what were you wanting done?” I asked.

  “Wanted a quote for a pin-up girl on my forearm,” he said.

  “You busy Tuesday? Say noon?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Guess not.”

  “It’s on me,” I said. “For old times.”

  “Appreciate ya,” he said.

  “Well, that was a fucking bust,” Stevie said.

  I nodded my head in acknowledgement. “Maybe try a softer side next time.”

  “That was my soft side,” she said.

  “Alright. I’m gonna get back to it,” Jackson said as he held out his hand.

  “Nice seeing ya,” I said as I shook his hand.

  “Riley, Stevie, nice meeting ya,” he said.

  “Same here,” Riley said.

  “Bring Vince back with ya,” Stevie shouted.

  As he walked away, Jackson waved his hand in the air.

  Stevie turned to face Riley, sighed and shook her head. “Want a hot investment tip?”

  “Sure,” Riley responded.

  “Buy some Duracell stock,” Stevie said flatly.

  Although Riley didn’t appear to catch the joke, I laughed to myself, knowing if I had anything to say about it, Riley wouldn’t need batteries for a long, long time.

  Chapter 19

  RILEY

  Being in a relationship with a man who preferred to control my every action left little room for me to make decisions sexually; or otherwise for that matter. The last eight months had left me feeling sexually frustrated, and although I had looked so forward to the relief once the day came, I was somewhat apprehensive about everything.

  I wouldn’t trade Blake or what we had together for anything, and I truly believed we stumbled into each other by design, but thinking I was the more promiscuous one of the couple left me feeling awkward and not much like a girl.

  I wanted him to take charge, but I realized having him do so was all but impossible for so many reasons. So, I swallowed my pride, set aside my selfish thoughts, and decided to take the reins for at least a little while.

  “Okay, if anything happens that freaks you out or creeps you out, just say so and we’ll stop,” I said.

  He nodded his head and laughed lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You say that, but…”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” I said. “This isn’t a contest, and you won’t be graded. I’ll tell you what I like or if something’s weird, and you do the same, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Uhhm. Get undressed,” I said as I waved my hand in his direction.

  “Everything?” he asked.

  I grinned at the thought of seeing him naked. “Yeah, toss it.”

  He nodded his head. It seemed almost like some weird dream, thinking we hadn’t seen each other naked and we’d been seeing each other for almost six weeks. The time had come, however, and I was more than ready. As I watched him fumbling with his belt, I pulled off my shirt, bra, and started to take off my shorts.

  As I pushed my shorts past my hips, I glanced in his direction. With his jeans now around his ankles and his boxers slightly above them, his cock stood at full attention. It appeared Blake was as ready as I was for whatever we decided to do. I stood for a moment and stared at him.

  As he stood there holding his shirt in his hand, covered in tattoos with his biceps bulging, his broad chest heaving from his breathing, and his washboard stomach tapering to the little “V” thing he had going on at his waist, I decided quickly it was time to move forward.

  “Okay,” I said as I shoved my shorts down my legs hurriedly. “First things first.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  He had shared with me since our discussion at Waterfront that his sexual experiences consisted of masturbation, watching videos, and enjoying the one time I had sucked his cock. Sexually speaking, that had been it for him. He had zero experience, and in addition, he was a little apprehensive considering his past.

  I pointed to my bed.

  I pointed to the bed and wagged my finger. “Lay on your back.”

  He tossed his shirt on the pile of clothes at his feet. His tattooed chest, well-defined abs, and slim waist were enough to have my mouth watering and my pussy dripping.

  “Okay, so you’ve seen videos. Have you ever seen one of a guy licking pussy?” I asked.

  He nodded his head. “Yeah, a bunch of times.”

  “Okay, well. That’s the first step. Sex always starts with a good pussy licking. Always,” I said.

  I viewed his lack of experience as a chance for me to begin our sexual relationship with the processes and procedures in place that should be a prerequisite to sex anyway.

  “Okay,” he said.

  I raised my index finger in the air and tried to keep from grinning. “Kissing, oral sex, and then penetration. And always in that order.”

  He nodded his head and positioned himself on the bed on his back. With his cock sticking straight up in the air it was almost as if he was begging me to use him. As much as I wanted to just climb on top of him and reverse cowgirl him into a fucking coma, I did my best to follow my own rules.

  I sat down on the edge of the bed, reached for his cock, and stroked it in my hand.

  “This is just bullshit foreplay, it’s allowed,” I giggled as I leaned forward and kissed him.

  I was beyond ready. As much as I enjoyed kissing Blake, as far as I was concerned, I had six-weeks experience at doing so, and six weeks of sexual torture from not having sex. I kissed him for three or four minutes, which in my mind was three or four minutes too damned long.

  “Stay right where you are. I’m going to climb on top of you and push my butt in your face. It might seem weird, but it’ll work out pretty good, really. Just finger me and lick my pussy. I’ll tell you if you’re doing it right,” I said.

  He nodded his head.

  This is ridiculous.

  I straddled him, inched my way backward, and raised my ass in the air slightly. As I stared down at his twitching cock, he wasted no time getting started.

  Holy shit.

  I grabbed his cock in my hand, stroked it a couple times, and wrapped my lips around it. As he sucked and licked my pussy like he had some kind of formal training, I bucked my hips back and forth, fucking his mouth like he’d paid me to do so.

  His tongue flicked across my swollen nub with precision while his finger worked in and out of my wetness. In return of the favor, I sucked his dick hesitantly and attempted to shift my focus to him licking my pussy.

  As much as I enjoyed sucking his dick, the selfish side of me realized if I continued, and succeeded at making him reach climax, the sex would be over for a while. For the sake of my sanity, and to assure I reached climax from his oral procedures beforehand, I decided to suck his cock as slowly as I was able.

  This process worked and worked well until…

  Holy shit he can lick a pussy…

  “Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Right there,” I howled.

  I held still while he nibbled on my clit and finger fucked me into a slight state o
f paralysis.

  I arched my back and pushed my pussy against his mouth while he tongue-fucked me into an orgasm; not because I wanted to, but because I could do nothing else. I was frozen in time, space, and sexual bliss. As he continued to educate himself on the art of oral pleasure, I squealed out loud and covered his face in my wet juices.

  I did my very best to hold still and wallow in the feeling for as long as I could.

  “Don’t move,” I whispered. “You made me cum.”

  “Okay, he said.

  “You ever heard of reverse cowgirl?” I asked as I slid my pussy along his ripped mid-section.

  I sat up on his hips, staring down at his thick cock. There was no need for any further explanation. People had been fucking long before there was a means of communicating verbally, and doing so without any problems that I’d ever heard of. I needed to feel his fat cock inside of me and I didn’t feel a need to explain how, why, or where.

  I glanced over my shoulder, grinned, and reached toward his cock. After gripping it firmly in my hand, I lifted my ass slightly and guided it into my swollen wet pussy as I lowered myself onto the tip.

  As I felt it begin to penetrate me, I pressed my hands onto his thighs and arched my back.

  “Watch. It helps, really,” I said over my shoulder.

  I had no idea if he heard me or not. I was all too eager to get started. Without warning, preparation, or any idea of how well his thick oversized shaft was going to fit inside of me, I began to work my hips like a stripper on a pole.

  His cock felt like it was in my chest. I exhaled a loud moan out into the room, took a deep breath, and began my journey to achieve another much needed orgasm at Blake’s expense.

  As I squeezed his thighs in my hands and bucked my hips back and forth, his thick shaft worked in and out of my tight wet pussy no differently than if it had been fashioned solely for my delight.

  A matter of a few seconds and no more than three or four strokes into the affair, his cock begin to swell. It was all I needed. I relaxed, slowed my pace, and attempted to milk him of his juices. As I felt him begin to erupt inside of me, I gripped his legs in my hand, bit my lip, and arched my back.

  “Oh my God,” he growled as his cock swelled to twice its size.