Taken by Bikers

by Meg Jackson

  “That was a really, really good thank you, teacup,” Cash said, pushing me away slightly. As I looked into his eyes, I was happier than I could ever remember being. I didn’t have a single concern about who I was, how I’d gotten to be there, or what it meant for me. I was satisfied, for the first time in my life, and wanted to feel that way forever.

  It had been two months since I first lost my virginity to Cash, and after that I’d come to see him every week, and soon I was seeing him twice a week, then three times, until eventually it turned into something I did every day; go to school, do my homework, and come have my brains fucked out by Cash. At first, it had just been a compulsion. Then, I realized, the more time we spent together, the more I had actual feelings for him.

  This filled me with fear; what if he saw me as just a nice piece of ass? What if there were a hundred other girls just like me? He never told me anything about his business, or about what I had come to realize was a motorcycle club.

  One day, as I pulled up to the bar, I made up my mind to tell him how I felt. Or, at least to ask him about the briefcases full of money, and the weird invoices, and all the other things I saw whenever we were in the office. I walked in and was surprised that I didn’t hear any of the usual yelling or laughter; everyone was huddled around a table in the back. As the door slammed, one of the older men, Horse, looked up.

  “Oh, boy. You better get outta here now, teacup, today’s not a good day,” he yelled from across the bar, causing everyone else to look at me as well. Someone quickly shuffled some papers that had been lying on the table and shoved them into a folder.

  “Oh, Cash didn’t say anything like that, so…” I said, scanning the room for him. He was nowhere in sight. My heart sped up as I realized this must be very serious, indeed; Cash was like the President or something, and nothing important happened without him. I’d learned that much.

  “Yeah, Cash isn’t here today. We don’t know when he’s getting back, just wait for someone to call you,” said one of the other men; I recognized it as Drill’s voice. My mind raced. They didn’t know when he was getting back?

  “What do you mean? Where is he? When will…” I started.

  “He’s in County, sweetheart, now get lost, we’re trying to get your loverboy out,” someone cried from the back of the room. I wasn’t too familiar with their lingo: county? County what? County Commons? County Courthouse? County…Jail?

  The realization hit me and my heart stopped. There was no way; he couldn’t be! What had he done? What was going to happen to him? Without even thinking, I turned around, ran back to my car, and looked up the directions to the county jail on my phone. I sped out of that parking lot like a madwoman.

  As I drove, I regretted my outfit choice; this wasn’t prison-attire, that was for sure. I was wear a green, skin-tight camisole that showed off my ample cleavage, cutoff shorts that ended just below my ass, and sandals. I had my hair in a messy bun, the way Cash liked it. I was going to stick out like a sore thumb in the prison, and probably no one would listen to me, thinking I was just some skank.

  I pulled up to an ominous, brick building, parked, and jumped out. I was desperate to see him, and didn’t care about how I looked. If nothing else, they should let me see him, I thought.

  I threw the door open and stormed into the building; the front room was actually just a small office. There were two desks; behind one sat a man with a Sheriff’s uniform on, while the other was occupied by a regular cop. They both looked up with amusement as I barged in.

  “Well, well. How can we help you, honey?” the Sheriff asked, a grin on his face. I hated him from the moment I saw him.

  “I’m here to see someone. Cash,” I demanded. The two officers looked at each other and chuckled.

  “Cash who? Or do you mean you want to pay us something?” the cop asked dismissively. I blushed as I realized I didn’t know Cash’s full name, or even if Cash was a part of his real name. But, I gathered myself together and returned their bemused stares with an angry glare.

  “You know who I’m talking about,” I said. The men exchanged another amused look. I stomped my foot on the ground. “This isn’t funny. Let me see him.”

  “Well, sorry, sweetheart, no visitors allowed,” the cop said with a smile. These assholes were getting off on me being upset. Why? Because they thought they’d caught a vicious criminal? My eyes filled with tears as I thought about Cash behind bars; how long would he be gone? What if it was years? I sniffled slightly, still furious, which only made my tears flow harder. The men now looked uncomfortable, as men usually do around sobbing females. I tried changing my approach.

  “I’m sorry, I just really need to talk to him, it’s…it’s important,” I said between tears.

  “Well, look, I’m really sorry, but rules are…” the cop started to say, but the Sheriff interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

  “What kind of law enforcement would we be if we left a citizen in distress?” the Sheriff said, gazing at me, or more accurately, at my chest, which was heaving with each sob. “Take her back. Give her five minutes.” The cop shook his head but stood up nonetheless, and walking towards me he grabbed my arm.

  “Should I search her, boss?” the cop asked the Sheriff. The Sheriff shook his head.

  “Where could she even be hiding anything?” the Sheriff asked, still staring at my chest. I thought he had some good ideas where I could be hiding something, but I knew this wasn’t the time to start any more trouble. The cop held my arm and led me forward through a door and down a long hallway, then down another corridor that held a single jail cell.

  “You got a visitor, Cash. And she’s real pretty,” yelled the cop. We approached the cell; Cash was standing with his hands gripping the bars. I ran up to him, taking his hands in mine.

  “Teacup! How’d you find out where I was? What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here,” Cash said, his voice as full of authority as ever, but tinged with concern.

  “They told me at the bar. What happened? Why are you here?” I asked, my voice raw from crying.

  “Pigs think they got me on bootlegging charges. Nothing’s gonna stick, though, honey, don’t you worry. I’ll be outta here in no time,” he said, unconvincingly, but with that half-grin that always melted my heart. I pressed closer against the bars, happy to be finally close to him again after so much worrying.

  “But…but…what if…” I stammered.

  “No what if’s. I’ll be out. They can’t keep me long,” Cash said; he lifted one hand through the bars and stroked my hair. I turned to the cop, who was standing a few feet away.

  “Can’t you give us some privacy?” I demanded.

  “Sorry, ma’am, rules are rules,” the cop replied smugly. I pouted at him, putting on my best innocent face.

  “Please? Just a few minutes?” I pleaded. The officer sighed and looked at his watch.

  “No, ma’am, you shouldn’t even be here. I’m going on break in five minutes, so make this snappy.” I gave him a nasty look and turned back to Cash, who was staring at me with desire.

  “I’m so sorry, what can I do?” I asked, leaning towards him again with my hands around the bars.

  “You? Nothing, teacup. The boys will take care of this. You just sit tight, take care of yourself, and wait for me. I’ll be out soon, I promise,” Cash said, staring into my eyes. In that moment I could barely even understand that there was a barrier between us; it was just me and him.

  “Well, I can do something, right now,” I whispered, taking my hands off the bars. I pulled down the straps on my top and pulled it down, exposing my perky, full breasts; the cold air made my nipples erect immediately.

  “Now, stop now, none of that,” said the cop, walking towards me. I turned to him quickly.

  “Oh, come on. What am I hurting? And don’t tell me you’re not interested in these, either,” I said, surprising myself with my own defiance and gall. I grabbed my tits and jiggled them; the cop stared, slack-jawed. Realizing he wasn�
�t going to try and protest further, I turned back to Cash, who was smiling in his cell.

  Reaching his hands out, he grabbed my breasts and fondled them softly; I moaned at his touch and pressed my body against the bars, craving more. Cash lowered his head and kissed my nipples, which were sticking through the bars on his side. I reached up and grabbed the bars, thrusting myself further forward; I felt myself getting wet from Cash’s lips and tongue playing with my erect nipples.

  My pussy was pressed against the bars, as well, and I felt Cash’s hand reach out and rub at my crotch through my jeans, making me moan again. Reaching down, I unzipped my jeans and Cash’s fingers reached through the bars and began stroking my clit.

  “Oh, Cash,” I groaned; his mouth was still teasing my nipples, biting them gently and sucking on them, while his strong, rough finger rubbed at my clit. Looking over, I noticed a sizeable bulge growing in the cop’s pants. Pulling away, I spun around so that my back was pressed against the cell bars; I shimmied my hips until my cut-off shorts fell to a pool around my ankles; since I never wore panties anymore, my shaved pussy and plump, juicy ass were fully exposed.

  “Wanna watch me get my little pussy fucked, Officer?” I asked, teasingly. The cop was playing with the bulge in his pants now, and didn’t respond, just stared at my luscious young body. Behind me, I felt Cash’s huge dick pressing against my pussy through the bars of the cell. His arm snaked around my waist and found my clit again; his other hand reached around my chest and fondled my breast, squeezing it. My body was heightened by the cold air in the room and feel of cold metal pressed against my back.

  “Fuck me, Cash, please, I need your cock,” I moaned; reaching my arms behind me, I grabbed onto the bars and leaned forward, giving Cash access to my warm, wet slit. As soon as I felt the head of his cock against my pussy I shuddered. Looking over, I saw the cop had pulled his cock out of his pants and was stroking it slowly.

  “Little fucking slut,” I heard him murmur. I licked my lips as I looked at him, but as soon as Cash began sliding his dick into my slit I closed my eyes and lost myself in the blissful feeling of his dick stretching my young cunt, filling it.

  “Mmm, fuck, Cash,” I groaned as he started to thrust into me, slowly. When I opened my eyes again, I was shocked to see the Officer standing in front of me, cop in hand, right in front of my mouth.

  “Wait!” I cried out in surprise.

  “You wanna keep fucking your boyfriend here, you gotta suck my cock,” the cop said, grabbing my head. Behind me, Cash had stopped mid-stroke.

  “Cash! What do I do!” I yelled, panicking. I didn’t want to suck this dirty cop’s little dick, not at all, but my body was already crying out for more of Cash’s cock, and I thought that at that point I would explode if I didn’t get more.

  “Whatever you want to do, teacup,” I heard Cash say behind me, voice neutral. “I wanna keep fucking you.” I felt him begin to pump slowly into me again and my eyes rolled back into my head in pleasure. I felt the cop’s hand gently guiding my head down to his cock, and I instinctually opened my mouth and began sucking the head.

  His dick was much smaller than Cash’s and I had no problem fitting it into my mouth; behind me, Cash was staring to fuck me harder and had grabbed my hips through the bars. I moaned against the cop’s dick as I bobbed up and down on it, licking it and sucking it quickly. I looked up at the cop through my eyelashes and saw him staring down at me.

  “You’re a good little cocksucker, aren’t you,” he murmured, increasing his grip on my head, pushing me down further so he could thrust more of his skinny dick into my throat. I didn’t care; all I could feel was Cash’s huge cock slamming into my pussy, bringing me closer and closer to climax with each thrust. The cop was starting to push my head even harder now. I could feel the cold metal bars of the cell in my hands and against my ass as I pressed my body against them, wanting Cash’s cock deeper inside me.

  “You’re gonna swallow every last drop, and you’re gonna love it, little biker whore,” I heard the cop grunting from above my head. He grabbed my head harder, but instead of pushing it down again he pulled it away. “Aren’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir, please let me suck your cock more, I want to taste your cum in my throat,” I pleaded, only half faking. “I need your hot cum, Sir.” He pushed my head back onto his cock and began thrusting into my throat forcefully. Behind me. I could feel Cash’s fingers digging into my hips as he fucked me harder and harder, pulling me against the bars, closer to his cock, reaching me deeper and deeper each time.

  I felt myself starting to climax as Cash sped up even more, pumping his cock in and out of me like a piston while I kept sucking the cock’s dick. The sensation of having the cop’s dick in my throat while Cash pounded my slit from behind was surprisingly hot and I found myself sucking eagerly as my orgasm rose, relishing the taste and the feeling of being stuffed in two holes.

  The cop grabbed my head once more and shoved me far down onto his cock, deep throating me, and as I felt the hot gobs of cum begin to hit my throat, I also felt Cash slam into me, hard, and his dick erupted, shooting stream after stream of cum into my pussy.

  The taste and sensation of two men filling me with their cum at one time drove me other the edge and I shook against the bars of the cell, my pussy milking Cash’s dick as he came and my throat massaging the cop’s dick; my legs shook and nearly gave out from the powerful orgasm that sent waves of electric pleasure to every nerve in my body. I felt the cop pull out and swallowed the last of his semen; he had an anxious, uncomfortable look on his face as he zipped up his pants.

  “One more minute,” he said, stuttering slightly. Then, he turned abruptly and left the corridor, leaving me alone with Cash. I leaned against the bars one more time, relishing the feeling of Cash’s dick still inside me. Then I sighed, stood up straight, and turned back to him. As I dressed, I tried to keep eye contact.

  “Are you sure everything is going to be okay?” I asked, all of my worries and fears returning.

  “Everything is going to be fine, teacup. Trust me. I promise,” Cash said, reaching out and stroking my chin. I believed him. I had to. I didn’t have any choice but to believe him.

  As I left the corridor, I stopped in one of the restrooms that were in the hallway and cleaned myself up a little. In my short shorts, and lacking panties, I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble by leaking cum on my wait out. When I walked out into the main office, I noticed that no one else was there, just the Sheriff sitting behind his desk. The cop was gone, presumably on break. The Sheriff looked up at me as I walked by.

  “Get everything you needed, sugar,” he said with a grin. I felt my hands form into wrists in a burst of anger, but took a deep breath. I turned to face him. He was sitting behind the desk in his stupid hat, chewing gum loudly. A manila folder was open on his lap as he leaned back, his chair leaning on two legs.

  “Yes, thank you. Very much,” I said coldly, giving him an evil stare. “You know, you don’t have to do this. He’s not a bad guy.”

  “Oh, honey, you don’t know what kinda guy he is,” the Sheriff said with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Don’t call me honey,” I snarled back. I was so angry in that moment, I didn’t care that I was speaking to an officer of the law. To me, he was just a roadblock in my highway to bliss.

  “Now, that’s not a nice way to speak to me. You think that’ll help your lowlife boyfriend out of here? How’d you get mixed up with the likes of that, anyway? You seem like a sweet girl.”

  “Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving,” I retorted, then began to turn away again so I could leave this miserable man to his miserable life.

  “They sure can,” I heard him say behind me. I looked back over my shoulder and realized the Sheriff was staring at my ass in my cut-off shorts. At first, I was disgusted. Then, I realized there might actually be a way to help cash. The Sheriff had finally realized I could see him ogling me, and made quick work of pretending to study whatever was in the folde
r. Turning my face away, I pretended to drop my purse on the floor.

  “Dammit!” I said loudly, and bent over to get it. I made sure to bend at the waist and arch my back so that my ass was jutting out; as I bent over, I looked over at the Sheriff. He had put the file down and was staring at my ass. I wiggled it slightly and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. I picked up my purse and rose slowly, turning as I did. The Sheriff’s eyes met mine and I grinned, biting my lip.

  “What have you got in your head now, Missy?” the Sheriff asked in a low voice, now staring at my ample cleavage.

  “Well, Sheriff, I guess I was thinking my boyfriend could be in there for a long time, but you could probably help me out a lot by giving his file another look,” I said, batting my eyes and putting on my best pout. I walked over to his desk and leaned over it, giving him a clear view of my breasts. Reaching out, I slid a finger along the top of the folder he had been reading.

  “Honey, you are way outta line,” the Sheriff said, still staring at my breasts. I rose, pouting again.

  “I’m sorry Sheriff. That was very bad of me. I’ll leave you alone now,” I said, turning back to walk towards the door. I swung my hips as I walked away from him.

  “Now wait a minute,” I heard him say quickly. I turned to look at him over my shoulder, still putting on my best sad little girl face.

  “Yes, Sheriff?”

  “Well, that was very bad of you. You are a bad little girl,” said the Sheriff, standing up. I noticed the lump growing in his pants.

  “I know, I am a bad little girl. Maybe you could help straighten me out?” The Sheriff was visibly agitated now. I turned towards him and pulled at the collar of my shirt, giving him a better view of my milky breasts. I walked towards him slowly; as I walked, I moved my hands to the bottom of my shirt and began pulling it up.

  “It’s just, I’ll miss him so much. I need a strong man around to keep me from being bad. You don’t want me to turn into a very, very bad girl, do you?” I was within arm’s length of the Sheriff at this point, and I pulled my shirt all the way off, exposing my perky, C-cup breasts. I dropped the shirt on the ground and began massaging them.