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Inside the case were clothes — women’s clothes, all way more slutty and slinky and revealing than anything I’d normally wear. Tiny little vests, tube tops, leggings, a couple of pairs of hot pants, and a large selection of skimpy g-strings. As I sifted through them, piecing together the best outfit I could, I thought again about that name tattooed into D’s neck: Roxanne. I guessed that these were her clothes and that she was … what?
Dead?
In prison?
Shacked up with some other biker guy?
Before I got dressed in this stranger’s clothes, I padded on through to the bathroom, finding a dirty stained sink and toilet behind the little door, and a rusting shower head dangling above a mildew-flecked cubicle. I cranked the taps and the shower creaked noisily into life, sprinkling down an anemic trickle of lukewarm water, which I stepped under gladly, soaping my body with a thin sliver of soap I found over by the sink.
There was no towel left in the little bathroom, so I padded back out toward D’s bedroom once more, planing to use the one he’d left on the floor in there, but as soon as I stepped out into the room, I froze in my tracks, the water dripping off my naked body.
Because there, standing right in the middle of the room were two huge, hulking biker guys.
They were both bigger than D; that burly, bulky place somewhere between muscle and fat. Both were tanned and tattooed. One had a long black goatee beard, and the other had a large spider’s web tattooed over the left side of his face.
I felt a pang of pure terror as I realized that they were looking at me with an unrestrained hunger in their eyes; the same kind of hunger I’d seen on that trucker’s face, back at the roadhouse.
Not again, I thought, stricken once more with fear.
“Well, looky what we’ve got here,” hissed the biker with the beard.
“Looks like D’s been holding out on us,” the one with the spider’s web tattoo replied.
I took a step towards the towel, which was strewn in the corner of the dusty room, and both men flinched.
“Who the fuck said you could move?” the one with the beard snapped.
I became still once more.
“Hey, looks like she’s a natural redhead, Spider!” he cried out, his eyes now fixed on my pussy — on the small patch of my pubic hair, lit up by the morning sunlight.
“Well, isn’t that something,” Spider said, his eyes too moving to the place between my legs.
The two men both took a step towards me in unison.
“Say,” said the one with the beard. “You’re that cock-sucking slut from the roadhouse, ain’t ya?”
I nodded, petrified with fear, the breath shivering in my lungs.
“Well how about this for a deal?” he continued. “You suck me, while my friend Spider here fucks your pretty little asshole, and as a reward, we’ll let you live. How does that sound, baby girl?”
I parted my lips to speak, but all that came out was the dry click of my tongue, my mouth completely devoid of moisture.
I remained fixed on the spot, watching in terror as the two men unbuckled their pants and scooped out their dirty cocks. They were both already half-hard, obviously turned on from the sight of my young, naked body. Spider’s cock was short and fat, the shaft of it thick and round, ending in a small pale mushroom head, while the guy with the goatee beard’s dick was long and dark and thin, with a deep purple head. The two men stroked their meat, licking their lips as they took another step towards me, closing up the remaining space between us. I was preparing myself to do what I needed to — no chance of escape this time — my heart hammering, just wanting to stay alive, when I heard the door slam open behind me.
We all span around simultaneously.
There was D, standing in the doorway, dressed in his full leathers.
“Step the fuck away from her,” he said in a low, steady voice.
The two men looked to each other, then to D, their dicks still clutched in their grubby hands, then both bikers took one step back away from me.
D walked into the room, closing the door behind him with an icy, measured calm.
He fixed the men in the eye, one by one, before a thin venomous smile broke out on his face. “Let me take first crack at her, hey boys?” he said, giving them a wink.
He turned to me, his back now towards Spider and the other guy, and gave me a quick, serious look. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed.
I realized what was happening here: this was some sort of power play. D was obviously in charge, but he couldn’t let on to these two cretins that he thought of me as anything other than a simple piece of meat. He couldn’t let on that anything tender had actually happened between us.
So he took a step towards me, fumbling with his own belt buckle, and I felt a small wave of relief, knowing that at least it would be him who fucked me. I looked over his shoulder, at the two bikers, their hard dicks still clutched in their hands. They showed no signs of leaving the room. They were slouched up against the wall, lazily stroking themselves, their eyes taking in the scene, as D slowly approached me.
“Turn around,” he commanded.
I did as I was told.
He grabbed my wrists and directed my hands out in front of me, placing them flat against the wall, just above waist height.
Next I felt his leather boots nudging at the inside of my ankles, one by one, as he forced me to part my legs and step backwards a little, so that my back was arched, my bum sticking out towards him. I felt his hot hand on my neck as he pushed my head between my shoulder blades, bending me even further forwards.
There was a pause.
I looked back out into the room, from underneath my arm, and I could just make out the two figures of the bikers, standing over at the far wall, masturbating, and I could hear the jingle behind me as D freed up his cock from his pants.
I gasped as I felt his hot, rough fingers touch roughly against my exposed sex from behind, first slipping into my pussy which had become gooey and wet once more. Then I felt him work my slick fluids up towards my arsehole, slipping a finger into right it for a moment, causing a fresh shudder to run through me and another short gasp to escape my lips.
Then there was another pause, before I felt something else touch gently against my pussy lips. It was his hot, swollen cock head.
I gasped and whimpered as he slipped the first inch of himself into my tight cunt, stretching me wider than I’d ever been stretched before: this was a completely different experience to James’s pencil dick. I cried out again, my head hanging down between my shoulders, my wet hair dangling in my face, as he forced another thick, hot inch of himself inside me, his middle finger once more returning to my arse, slipping into my tight little bumhole, up to the first knuckle. The two bikers were pumping their dicks hard as they watched the scene, and I whimpered involuntarily as D pulled his cock a little way out, then slammed it right into my sopping cunt, right up to the hilt.
I ground myself back against him, and he slipped his finger a little further into my arse, too.
Then, he began to fuck me, hard, grabbing me and holding me now with both hands on my waist as he slammed his cock rhythmically into my tight pussy, with each stroke sending a fresh wave of pleasure around my body. His hands moved up to my breasts, tugging at my rock-hard little nips, my small breasts filling his hot rough palms as he took me, hard and fast, from behind.
Over by the far wall, I heard a low grunt, and looked over just in time to see Spider shoot a thick white rope of cum. It spurted in great jets from his swollen cock head, spattering in an arc onto the dirty wooden floorboards in front of him. The second biker came shortly afterwards, too, yelping ferociously as his own thin dick sent forth six big squirts of cum.
I could feel my own orgasm building and I focussed on it completely, grinding my ass eagerly back into D as he continued to slam his big thick cock into me. I reached between my legs and touched my fingers to my clit, which felt so swollen and hard, it surprised me a l
ittle. It was standing right out from my body, rock hard and engorged with blood, and I worked it with my fingers until I came, my pussy clamping and spasming around D’s thick tool, my orgasm causing a fresh wave of trembles around my tender young body. I whimpered and gasped as I came, and maybe it was this that caused D to come too, gripping my hips and thrusting his cock as far into me as it would go. I savored the feeling of it swelling and spurting its hot cum deep into my pussy.
Then, he tugged his cock roughly out of me and quickly buckled his pants, leaving me still bent over and panting, my arse thrust out towards the room, my hands still placed firmly against the dusty wooden wall.
“Okay, show’s over. Get the fuck out of here,” I heard D say to the bikers behind me in the same icy tone as before, and with grunts and mumbles, the two burly men shuffled out of the room, leaving us once more alone.
Chapter Eight
“I’m sorry about that,” D said, once we were alone, unable to quite meet my gaze.
“Don’t worry,” I said, softly. “I understood what was going on.”
“You did?” he said, a little surprised, his eyes flicking up to meet mine and his dark brow knitting.
“Sure,” I said, my voice still breathless. “You had to be a bad-ass in front of those guys, right?”
A small smile broke out on his face and he nodded. “Something like that,” he murmured. “Anyway, get dressed and then I’ll get you the fuck out of here.”
At this I felt something sink a little inside me, realizing that my adventure was almost over. Sure, it’d been fucking terrifying and a great part of me wanted nothing more than to be shot of this place completely, to be safely back in England, in Bristol, perhaps back at my parent’s house, tucked up snugly in my childhood bed. But then, another part of me felt alive: vibrant and buzzing and full of adrenaline.
I tugged on one of the g-strings from the pink suitcase, then pulled up a pair of leopard-print leggings. I completed my outfit with a black tube top, my nipples still rock-hard and poking out from beneath the flimsy material in prominent little peaks. Finally, I slipped my feet back into my scuffed up old Converse boots, and tied my hair in a high pony tail, using a dirty old scrunchie I found at the bottom of the suitcase.
“Are these things Roxanne’s?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the mattress as I tied up the laces of my left sneaker. As soon as I said it, I felt something change in the energy in the room, and D shot me such a vicious glare that I immediately wished I’d never opened my stupid little mouth.
“Forget it,” I said quickly. “Forget I said anything.”
“No,” said D, his voice softening. “It’s okay.”
He padded over and joined me on the mattress, sitting next to me and slinging his hot heavy arm around my thin shoulders.
“Roxanne was just a stupid mistake. She’s long gone …”
He paused, then touched his neck, where her name still curled, staring me right in the face.
“Well, she’s almost all gone,” he said with a grin.
I couldn’t help but laugh too.
I leant in towards him, catching him off guard a little, then touched my lips softly and sensuously against his. With a shudder, I noted that despite everything else we’d already done, this was the first time we’d actually kissed. His hands moved gently over my body, his palms finding my breasts as his tongue slipped urgently into my mouth, exploring it. I kissed him back just as hard, just as passionately, melting beneath his burning hot touch.
“I don’t want to leave,” I murmured, once we’d drawn apart once more.
“You do, Rose, trust me.”
He fixed me in his smoldering black eyes, and I felt a strange tearfulness well up from somewhere deep inside me. I shook my head as the hot droplets spilled down my cheeks.
“You don’t understand,” I blurted out, half speaking, half sobbing. “I’ve got nothing to go back to. Nothing.” And as I said it out-loud, framing it so clearly like that for the first time, I knew I meant it; knew that this was exactly what I’d been searching for all this time — something simple and pure, like the moment I’d just shared with D, huddled on the edge of his mattress, lost in our own little world.
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” he murmured. “A lot you wouldn’t like …”
“Try me,” I countered, my voice firm now, my mind made up. “I want to stay, D. At least for a little while.”
He nodded, recognizing the seriousness in my voice.
He stood, offered his hands to me, and then lifted me up to my feet.
I felt so different in these figure-hugging leggings and this tiny little top. I felt like a completely different girl .. No, a completely different woman.
“You realize that I’ve got to act a certain way around those guys, right?” he said, nodding towards the door that led back out into the shack.
“I told you, I get it,” I said.
“Okay then, let’s go.”
He stepped towards the door, pushing it open and walking back out into the main room. I followed behind him, my eyes fixed on the large rose painted on the back of his jacket, and beneath it the curving script: FLOWERS OF HELL.
There were even more bikers in the room than I’d expected, maybe ten or eleven of them, all slouched and sprawled around on the floor, and they all looked up at me, fixing me in their leery gaze as I walked out into the shack, a few steps behind D, staying close to him. I noticed Spider and the guy with the goatee among them. I could feel them all — each and every one of those bikers — undressing me in their minds, imagining what it would be like to ravage me, to fuck my mouth and pussy and arse however they wanted, just plundering my tight young body like a piece of meat, to be pounded and then tossed out afterwards with the trash.
“Listen up!” D shouted, his voice ringing out in the shack, icy and cold and commanding, just like before.
All murmurs ceased. It was clear that he was in charge here, that he ran the show.
“Now this, here, is Rose. Take a good long look, boys, because looking is all you’re gonna get to do, okay? This slut here is mine, you understand? Mine and only mine.”
There was silence in the shack.
“YOU UNDERSTAND?” D bellowed, causing me to jump a little.
The bikers all nodded and mumbled their agreement.
“And that includes you, Zed. Okay?” At this, D fixed the guy with the black goatee beard in his icy stare.
Zed nodded reluctantly, unable to meet D’s eye.
“Okay then. Well, with business out of the way,” D continued, his voice softening a little, “I want you all to say hello to Rose here, and make her feel welcome. Alright?”
“Hi, Rose,” the bikers all mumbled, casting their shifty, lustful glances up at me once more.
“Hello, boys,” I said, unable to keep the cheeky grin off my face, knowing just how ridiculously out-of-place my English accent sounded, ringing out in that dirty biker’s shack.
I took a deep breath, savoring the musty, smoky air, knowing that — for the very first time in my life — I was doing exactly what I wanted; finally living out the adventure I’d so craved and yearned for.
And what an adventure that turned out to be …
About the Author
Alicia Pierce is a young writer, who grew up on both sides of the Atlantic, and has long yearned for a life of adventure. In the day, she works as a shop assistant in a large department store, while at night, she loves firing up her laptop and escaping into the worlds she creates in her stories. She always writes about what turns her on; some of it based on her own real-life experiences, some — as yet — only fantasy.
Alicia hopes you enjoy reading Petals and Chrome just as much as she enjoyed writing it.
She is currently hard at work on the sequel…
Also by Alicia: The Changing Room
Connie Black has only ever known one lover, her young husband Dean. The two were college sweethearts and saved themselves for marriag
e, but it turns out that their sex life still leaves Connie rather unfulfilled.
In a last-ditch attempt to save their marriage, Connie takes the advice of a friend, but this innocent suggestion leads her into a murky new world of anonymous encounters and explicit sexual awakenings ... in The Changing Room.
Warning: This 7,300+ word novella contains scenes of graphic language, oral sex, anal play, skimpy underwear, exhibitionism, masturbation, gloryholes and a culminates in a sizzling hot mmf threesome. Intended Only for Mature Audiences 18+.
EXCERPT:
“Hello?” I said, taking a nervous step towards the hole, but there came no reply.
I leant forward and inspected it again and this time, instead of complete darkness, I saw an eye peering back at me from the gloom.
So it was true. There really was someone back there, watching.
“So, you like to watch, do you?” I said, attempting to sound sexy but knowing that my voice also betrayed my nerves. My whole body was pounding with a mixture of fear and shock and excitement. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but in the spur of the moment, I decided to give whoever it was a show.
Again I turned to face away from the hole, feeling the horny eye watching me as I picked up the black thong and stepped into it, first one foot, then the other. I slid it up over my thighs and up around my waist, feeling the thin strip of black fabric slide tightly between my buttocks.
I ran my fingers down my toned stomach and over the outside of these new silky-smooth panties, feeling the soft mound of my pubic hair beneath them, then the throbbing nub of my clit, and then finally the swollen cleft of my pussy lips. Within moments, my sticky warm wetness had soaked through the fabric and I let out another low, involuntary moan.
It was the horniest I’d ever felt.
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