Sinner (MC Club Biker Urban Alpha Male Erotic Romance)

by Kasper, Billie

  Years of healthy living and eating, years of regular exercise and no liquor, no sweets, nothing bad, it had all left me with a thin, model’s face, my dark eyes looking all the bigger for it. There was some dirt on my cheek but it didn’t look out of place. I looked like a diamond in the rough, a flower in the dust. I had no idea I looked like this. How had I been missing that for years?

  “See, I shouldn’t have shown that to you…” Dario said with a laugh. “Now, you’re never going to want to touch me again, since you know you’re better’n that—“

  I cut him off with a kiss. I guided his hands up my sweatshirt, to my aching breasts. He teased my hot flesh and I rewarded him with a moan. My hard nipples hadn’t been touched like this, hadn’t been teased like this… The feeling of his rough hands, digging into my bra, groping and stroking my soft, neglected breasts, it all drove me wild. Goddamn, but sinning was good.

  As he stroked my nipples, I undid my bra and slid it off for him, out under my sweatshirt. I pulled my sweatshirt up and grabbed him by the head. I forced his mouth onto my right nipple and I gasped as he began to suckle enthusiastically.

  “Oh, god, Dario!” I cried out in delight as his hot, wet tongue washed over my sensitive flesh, teasing and slathering my skin with his hot desire.

  “Was that what you wanted, sister?” he growled between kisses and nips. “That’s what you’ve been aching for for years, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t want to confess that it was… It most definitely was. I hated that he could tell. I was sure at that very moment that it was obvious, how neglected I was, how deeply my lusts had been buried in my psyche and how they were just waiting to come flooding out.

  I began to undo my jeans. My belt came off and then, keeping my breasts firmly pressed into his mouth, His tongue obediently lashed my nipple, teasing that sensitive nub, his teeth occasionally tearing at my hot needy flesh. I slid my jeans down my long, muscled legs.

  I was wearing the most boring, the most plain, the most conservative and dull underwear you can imagine but I didn’t give a damn. I lost them and threw them into the dirt, as if casting off my sisterhood—if only for the day.

  I slid his cock out again. His soldier stood at attention, twitching and saluting me. I was wet, wetter than I ever could remember being. My juices ran down my thighs as I straddled him and pressed the hot, throbbing tip to my wet hole. I couldn’t believe I was about to do this… This had to be a fantasy, a delicious dream.

  If it were a dream, then I didn’t want to wake up.

  He switched to my other nipple as I slid down his shaft, gasping as I was penetrated for the first time in years. Dario let out a soft groan.

  “Jesus Christ, you feel like a virgin…” he groaned.

  “I only ever had sex once before,” I whispered huskily as I pressed myself down all the way onto him, our hips meeting, the hair on our crotches intermingling, building a forest of sexuality and passion between our legs. “And that was over four years ago. I might as well be a virgin.”

  “Well, I’m delighted to take your virginity. I’m positively fucking honored,” he said with a grunt, partially from pleasure and partially, I imagine, from pain, as I was pressing on his wounded belly indirectly with my hips. I pulled him a bit, shifted my wait, and then sank down again, gasping as his cock disappeared inside my hot core once more.

  “You should,” I groaned in delight, savoring the feeling of him inside of me. How could I describe it? It was like waking up after a long spell of hibernation. My body felt so alive. Every cell of my being was alive with fire as I raised myself once more and then lowered my body, ever so slowly, torturously slowly, putting both of us through that exquisite agony of love-making as I sank onto his manhood.

  I was suddenly scared. Scared that we would be caught, discovered, here on this sanctified ground. I was a nun, for Christ’s sake… And here I was, riding the cock of a man I had only just met. We weren’t even using protection. That had gotten me in trouble before.

  But as his cock slid through my tightness, teasing the inner nooks of my hole, pressing deep into my body, all of those concerns flowed away. The walls of my pussy gripped him tight, holding the fleshy tool deep within my consecrated depths, deep within the love tunnel which was supposed to have been off limits to men for the rest of my life… Fat chance of that.

  Now, I just wanted more of him. I just wanted him to fuck me, to fuck him, to make up for all the pleasure, all the self-expression I had missed. I wanted to experience it all.

  And so I began to work my hips, bouncing harder and harder and taking his cock deep, grinding my swollen clit against his strong hips. I moaned and bit my tongue, afraid that someone would hear us.

  Of course, it was nearly impossible—we were far enough from the convent and close enough to the highway that no one could hear us unless they came looking for me. And the other sisters would be caught up right now in their late afternoon tasks: making dinner, cleaning the convent… Certainly not riding a hard slice of manhood.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I murmured in ecstasy. Each time I slid down his shaft, I felt the electricity of our sex flood my body. I couldn’t wait to feel his cum inside of me. I had already decided that I didn’t care what happened.

  This could very well be the last time I ever had sex and I wanted to make it count, damn it. I felt his cock throb and twitch inside of me and I hoped that meant he was getting close. At the same time, I hoped he could hold out because I didn’t want that moment to end.

  You see, I was free in that moment. Sure, I was a sinner and one hell of a sinner at that, riding a man I had only just met on the convent grounds, but I was doing it because I wanted to. It was, perhaps, the first thing I had done for myself since I was in high school. It was the first time in over four years that I had done something solely for myself and I loved it and I wanted to live in that moment for as long as I could.

  “Kiss me,” I hissed to Dario, covering his mouth with mine, claiming his mouth as I claimed his cock, making him all mine as I rode him. He grunted into our kiss, grabbing my hard by the hair. I yelped at his delicious roughness and forced my hips hard onto his, drawing a cry from his lips as I hit his wound. Two could play at this game, I meant to tell him.

  He gripped me hard by the ass now and I let out a yelp as he pulled me down onto his cock. I squealed as he spread my ass cheeks apart—I felt so vulnerable, here in the garden, spread open and plunging onto his cock. He grunted as my pussy massaged his cock and I could only moan in response, my body quivering around him.

  “I’m getting close,” he grunted. And oh, boy, could I feel it… I felt him twitching inside of me, his cock throbbing, expanding, filling me up even more. This was a feeling I had felt before, years ago, of course… But I couldn’t even remember the sensation. It was a distant memory, lost in the fog of my youth.

  I had been kind of drunk at the time and it was over before I knew what was happening. But here, with Dario, every stroke, every movement of his cock, every moment was poetry. Every moment drove me wild, every moment tore into me, dug into me, spread me open wide and claimed me all over again…

  And then he was cumming, his cock flooding my tight chamber with his hot, stickiness. I gasped. It had been years. And it felt… Incredible. I sighed and threw my head back, groaning as his cock throbbed, as it pumped, pulsating inside of me and filling my wet core with his seed.

  I didn’t even care what happened. It was so magical, so glorious, to feel a man inside me, and especially this man—what a man! His cock was so full and thick and his cum felt so good… I even secretly savored the idea, deep within my heart of hearts, of his cum taking root and beginning to quicken in my aching womb, filling my belly as my body begins to swell and grow… Oh, what a scandal it would cause… The idea was succulent to imagine.

  “Oh, shit…” he moaned as he gripped my ass, his dirty fingernails almost drawing blood and cutting into my soft skin. I could only take it, accepting the scratches.


  The sudden pain elicited a gasp from my lips and before I knew it, the waves of orgasm were washing over me as well. I gripped my tits hard, squeezing my nipples, wincing and whimpering the pleasure into every cell of my body. God, but it was glorious. And painful and delicious and amazing all at once.

  “Oh, god, it’s so good…” I whined as my body burst into blossoms of pleasure, my pussy spasming around his cock, my ass shuddering and my insides convulsing. My orgasm seemed to go on forever, with those few seconds of divine pleasure stretching out into an eternity of ecstasy. Finally, I finished. I rolled off Dario and lay next to him, his cum dribbling out of my well-fucked pussy. I felt so sloppy and wet and perfect.

  We enjoyed our afterglow there together for several minutes, the thickness and scent of our pleasure and love-making hanging over us like thunder clouds on a summer’s evening.

  The Damned

  I watched his thoughtful, stony face, the contours of it, and tried to fathom what might be going on inside of it. For his part, he completely avoided meeting my eyes. I had know idea what he was thinking and it seemed to me that that was exactly how he wanted it.

  “What will you do now?” I asked finally after several minutes of silence. Dario had lit a cigarette and the smoke pooled into thin clouds over us. As it drifted near my face, I coughed and blew it away as best I could.

  “Go on the run, I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “By now, there won’t be that many of us left.”

  “Who’s us?”

  “The Damned,” he answered. “That’s what that was—with the two knuckleheads who came after me. It was a move against our club—a move to ice all of us. The Damned are over, I’m willing to bet.”

  It was a somber moment and we lay in sober silence. I wondered if he expected me, as a woman of the cloth, to say something, to offer some sort of solace for his fallen comrades. I couldn’t think of anything to say and besides, he didn’t ask me to say anything.

  “But I’ll keep wearing the colors, until they find me and kill me,” he said with grim confidence. “I’ll be the last of the Damned, if I have to be. They won’t kill the club till they kill me. And damned if I don’t take some of those assholes with me.”

  “Why don’t you just… stop? Why don’t you get out of this life?” I asked, perplexed. “You could run. Change your name. Do something else. Go to a different state, maybe. I bet they wouldn’t find you. Or maybe go to the police and get into the witness protection program in exchange for testimony.”

  My father was a lawyer and that just seemed like the natural thing to do. But Dario shook his head.

  “Nah, you don’t understand. It’s not so easy. Once you’re in this life, you don’t leave it. You’re a prisoner.”

  Oh, but I did understand. I knew exactly what he was talking about. The thing was, the life Dario led was one he loved. I could tell—could tell that he loved the open road, the freedom of being in his club, of living outside the every day world that all the rest of society seemed so interminably stuck in. The life I lived, though, I would leave in a second. If I could.

  “I think I understand better than you realize,” I replied finally, after thinking it over. “Only one of us is technically celibate.”

  Dario looked around.

  “I don’t see no one like that ‘round here.” I punched his arm playfully.

  “Hey, why don’t you come with me?” he said after a pause, taking a drag on his cigarette. My heart stopped.

  “What? With you?”

  “Yeah. I got my bike stashed over by the highway. You can just… run away. Get the hell out of this shitty convent. Don’t tell me you’re gonna’ stay after this. You broke your vows.”

  I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Dario… I have to stay.”

  “Why? Why not come with me?”

  “I just met you.”

  “How long did you know you wanted to be a nun before you became one?”

  “I didn’t become a nun by choice.”

  “So, choose to do something for once in your life!” he said, a little too loudly. I had to hush him—I was still paranoid about someone from the convent overhearing us.

  I shook my head. Tears were coming to my eyes. I was scared and I wanted to go with him but I couldn’t make myself. I just couldn’t. I can’t explain now why I didn’t go with him then but it just seemed so impossible, the world outside the convent walls looming so large, so strange and new. I was afraid. I was like one of the cave dweller’s in Plato’s allegory—stretch your minds now—who can’t leave the cave because the cave is all she’s ever known. I couldn’t leave, even though I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of here.

  Finally, Dario staggered to his feet. I was surprised by his resiliency, his ability to bounce back. He had been gushing blood only a few hours ago and now, he stood to his full height. I realized that he was tall—very tall, at least six and a half feet. It hadn’t been apparent to me initially because he had been on the ground for almost the entire time I had known him.

  “Well, then, I’ll leave you to… whatever this is.”

  He gestured vaguely at my garden, and towards the convent beyond the trees. I suddenly felt very naked, like Eve in the Garden of Eden. I had been seduced by the snake and I wanted to go with the snake, to leave the garden. I blushed and tried to cover myself. Just like Adam and Eve had when they realized they were naked. Oh, how the mighty and holy have fallen, I reflected in shame and, strangely enough, profound satisfaction.

  “Take care of yourself, Dario,” I said softly, unable to meet his eyes.

  He reached out to take me in his arms once more and kiss me but I drew back. He sighed.

  “You too, sister.”

  ~

  I returned to the convent late that evening. I was late for evening prayers and so I faced a punishment—a hundred Rosaries over the course of the night.

  Honestly, that’s not even that big a deal. I started off saying them and then, eventually, I found myself trailing off, starting over, and finally giving up. I just pretend to mouth the words and I fingered my rosary beads and for all intents and purposes, it looked as though I were dutifully saying my prayers.

  Weeks passed. The fact was, I missed Dario and I missed him bad. I wished I had gone with him. If I could go back and smack that silly girl in the garden with him, I would do it. I would yell at her to run, run far away from this place. Get out while I still could, before I became crusty and old like the mother superior.

  I felt bolder now. My loins still ached from riding Dario and I felt, somehow, older than the other nuns, for I had experienced more. I had known a man, and more than once, but also recently: I knew what we were all missing out on, the feel of his muscles under my fingers, the feel of his cock inside of me, the feel of his lips on mine. It drove me mad to remember it and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t stop reminiscing about that one afternoon.

  It was one night, six weeks later, when I lay in my bed, unable to sleep.

  My windows were open, casting pale moonlight on my dull, uninspired room—the usual accommodations for nuns. As usual, I was thinking about Dario. I wondered if this were healthy—certainly, I shouldn’t be obsessing so much over one man…

  And then I heard it. It sounded like… Climbing? Two hands appeared on my window sill and my eyes widened. I tried to draw closer to myself in bed, almost curling up into a fetal position but keeping my eyes directly on the window. Who the hell was that? A burglar? He had to know this was a convent—we didn’t have anything of value… Except a lot of virgins. Shit.

  The burglar climbed into the window. He wore a black ski mask, a black leather jacket, what seemed like black jeans… And he was tall. Could it be?

  “Dario?” I whispered into the darkness. The figure pulled his ski mask up, just enough so I could see his mouth. He drew a gun and leveled it at me. Okay, maybe it wasn’t Dario.

  “You’re coming with me, sister,” the burglar growled. I nodded
silently—what else was I going to do?

  “Can I grab some things?”

  “Two minutes.”

  I got out of bed and very deliberately packed jeans, underwear, bras, any clothing I thought I would need. I have a small day bag that I used to take to visit my parents. I haven’t visited them since Thanksgiving of last year now, though, so it has mostly stood empty and unused. I filled it now with clothing and even tossed in my copy of Dante. Why not, I figured.

  The followed the burglar to the window and as I peered over the sill, I saw a latter leading from my window down. Not too subtle but it was night time at a convent in a remote location, so who was going to see it?