Professor X

by Kiki Leach

  "If we wanna fuck out here, we can?" asked Scooter. "No limitations or any of that shit?"

  "Nothing is changin' 'bout that shit, asshole," said Prez. "It's makin' it personal with the possibility of wider distribution where the lines get drawn."

  Chopper nodded and jerked his cock. "Good to know on this shit, Prez. I'll be more aware next time."

  "That tape you made is gettin' burned to a goddamn crisp once this shit is over in here, brother." Red peeked at him from across the table and covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. "And any other copy you made right after. Hope you know that shit."

  Chopper sank into his chair like an adolescent and grit his teeth as a rush of white-hot anger flushed his cheeks. "Fuck."

  Prez looked to him and snarled loud enough to wake the goddamn dead. "You were expectin' somethin' else with this shit, asshole?!"

  As he shook his head in response, the door flew open with Xavier stumbling into the room like a clumsy Adonis and dropping a bag full of rusted car parts onto the table.

  Every brother eyed his six-foot-three inch frame with a glare before Coco slapped his hands together and pointed. "About fuckin' time, asshole!" he said. "Took your ass long enough to finally make it back here with that shit."

  "5 o'clock traffic in Oklahoma City, motherfucker." Xavier closed the door with a smirk and yanked the head of his chair, pulling it back to take a seat. "You had me riding out there for shit you knew I couldn't find in the goddamn boonies for any car currently sittin' in the middle of our goddamn lot -- Mercedes', BMWs, fuckin' Volvos. I checked the papers on all that shit; half of 'em were supposed to be fixed and sent back out 'fore last night."

  "You got the shit," said Prez. "It's all that fuckin' matters right now. Chop, Poke and Rider can get to workin' on those cars with the prospects as soon as we're done in here. We'll lower the prices for those folks only and with the hope they still wanna come back for tune-ups or more repairs overtime."

  "Shit, I know at least two of 'em that'll be willin' to come back if only to hang around the clubhouse." Tractor grinned. "Saw 'em checkin' out the Blue Devil on my cut -- checkin' out the number of patches -- 'specially my VP... " He jerked his chin. "Tryin' to figure out the size of my cock."

  "Must've meant they blinked once after lookin' down south a few times and that shit was done," muttered Coco.

  "Jesus -- Alright. We need to start this shit 'cause I got my own goddamn pussy to get back home to." Prez wagged his head and slammed his gavel on top of the table. "Now, we know why the fuck we're here in finally deciding what the hell to do with our only business outside the bar and garage bein' fucked up the ass by those 'daddy pays my rent' university assholes in Central O.K."

  Poke frowned and shook his head. "What the fuck kinda school doesn't know about a whole ass dope ring taking place right in the middle of their own goddamn campus?"

  "The kind that's no doubt got motherfuckers on staff bein' involved just as much as those asshole kids," said Shadow. "At least one. Wexley Motherfuckin' University." The brothers looked around at each other and nodded in agreement. "Ain't no goddamn way nobody out there is too fuckin' high to be clueless on what the fuck is goin' on with that shit -- I don't give a fuck how big their campus might be. With us findin' out what was up not two seconds after the motherfuckers runnin' through us for it started cancelin' orders with no piece of an explanation? Shit -- Half our goddamn profit has been blown to fuckin' smoke."

  "The young motherfuckers out there are seen as less of a threat when they're peddlin' this shit," replied Sniper. "The younger they look, the motherfuckin' whiter they look -- the more they can sell."

  "We're white," snapped Red.

  "They're a 'clean' lookin' white -- pure as the driven goddamn snow; we ain't," he replied, pointing to his cut. "Listen to how the fuck we talk alone? And they take damn near nothin' of shares in knowing what the fuck they have to lose if they tried. Big city motherfuckers like the Shadow Riders and Reapers learned a lot faster than us small town pricks how the hell to handle business on this level without bein' fucked up the ass by shit like this."

  "They ain't involved in coke," said Rugger.

  "Same fuckin' difference," he replied. "Business is fuckin' business."

  "We can't help where the fuck we're from as a goddamn charter, old man," muttered Coco. "It ain't the 'big city' like River likes to call his spot, it's low-key and quiet, which is what you said was the reason for starting it out here in the first place all those years ago, yeah? Can't nobody find Pink, Oklahoma on the goddamn map unless their asses are out here lookin' for it."

  "Those goddamn kids were sure as fuck lookin' for it," said Tractor. He made a point to glare at Prez before scattering his gaze across the room. "Motherfuckers swiped our big time moneymakers in the blink of a goddamn eye 'cause of that shit."

  "And we still don't fuckin' know just how their simpleminded asses learned we were down here," chimed in Porkchop. "Let alone that we were dealin' out enough coke to make Tony fuckin' Montana look like a prick up his ass amateur who couldn't tell a pile of horse shit from mud. Stealin' our business takes some professional shit. 'Specially since our asses ain't ever showed up on the 6 o'clock news for it like some of these other assholes wavin' pussy flags from the heads of their goddamn poles."

  "Cock poles or flag poles?" asked Scooter.

  He arched his brows and snickered. "Both, motherfucker."

  Sniper took in a low, deep breath and threw his hand across his chest; he nodded. "Maybe we fucked up in stayin' low-key. Maybe we shoulda gone bigger -- been loud as fuck instead of usin' what little we had to slide through the back door of this goddamn town nearly fifty fuckin' years ago."

  "That back goddamn door is what has kept our asses paid," said X in a low voice. "Kept us fed, kept the pussy comin' in left and right."

  "Yeah, motherfucker," replied Porckchop. "'Til now. 'Least with the paid part -- pussy ain't never stoppin'."

  "I like us bein' off the map," said Scooter. He glanced at each of his brothers and shrugged. "Our town has less than three-thousand people and our coin was comin' from motherfuckers we knew and could trust. Everybody else who knew what the fuck we did paid it no goddamn mind as long as we promised to keep 'em outta line of any shit that's gone down; we've lived up to it since divin' into the coke six months ago."

  "I agree with him on that shit," said Red. "With everybody knowin' everybody else, we're comfortable as fuck with each other. And when outsiders jonesin' for a fix come in while sometimes stayin' too goddamn long, we vet 'em to high heavens and still manage to get their business in other shit for the damn good work we manage to do with the garage. Big city motherfuckers can't always say the same."

  "Yep!" Chopper nodded. "Between the bar and our parties, we make enough bank out here to keep us steady and in check."

  "Says who, asshole?" Pecker frowned. "That motherfucker just told you we double our pay from dipshits lookin' for both a fix and drink or car repairs. So are you sayin' you wanna forego makin' more of it? 'Cause yeah, we're steady as shit, but what we've got goin' with just the bar and garage ain't bound to keep us that way forever. Not anymore."

  "You might be right on that shit, but neither is the dope," he shot back.

  Prez sat up straight and eyed Chopper with a snarl. "Where the fuck is this shit coming from with your ass?"

  "I'm just sayin'--"

  "What the fuck are you just sayin' exactly, asshole?"

  He sat back and exhaled as a cool breeze suddenly shot across the room; reaching his skin, he shivered. "I'm just sayin' that maybe these assholes at that school makin' profit from the motherfuckers that were once with us was a sign that we need to fall back on it. Pink PD might not give a fuck about what we're doin', but--"

  "Pink PD don't give a fuck as long as they keep gettin' their fair share to toss back once their badges and sirens are off for the night," said Pecker. "Which is what the fuck Scooter just said -- is your ass high as a goddamn kite right now or what? Sh
it around here stops operatin' on point -- we get capped at the fuckin' knees if we don't make up for that missed green within the next few weeks. Those kids got us fucked with money and orders."

  "Who's to say we can't just give these motherfuckers some shit of what we're makin' from the cars and bar?" asked Chopper. "Toss 'em what the fuck they're owed and move forward from this shit?"

  "Are you in fact high as a goddamn kite?" Xavier peered. "'Cause the cars and bar is enough to keep us afloat as a club -- that's what we keep sayin', asshole. But we start tossin' nickles and dimes to the outside in order to keep from gettin' popped when some bitch you've fucked too hard in the mouth starts screamin' bloody goddamn murder outside, we're gonna need more than blow to keep us from fallin' headfirst into the same pile bound to keep us fucked for life."

  "We don't know that shit 'cause we ain't ever tried it--"

  "And we ain't gonna fuckin' try it, asshole," snapped Xavier. "You want us to roll over and play dead for what goddamn reason, exactly? Let these three-inch cock suckin' pricks keep gettin' us fucked up the ass with cash so we can just keep 'gettin' by' and nothin' more? For what?"

  Chopper shifted his eyes and sighed. "Wasn't aware that your ass was lookin' to become a fuckin' billionaire on the heels of this club."

  "Ain't about bein' a billionaire, motherfucker -- it's about makin' sure we've still got somewhere to fuckin' sleep every goddamn night -- somewhere to have church without the fear of a fuckin' shakedown from outsiders ready to see us put out for good; about havin' food in our goddamn bellies and feedin' your goddamn kids, asshole." Xavier eyed him with a shot of curiosity as Chopper remained quiet before redirecting his attention to the rest of his brothers. "This shit is about keepin' us whole," Xavier continued. "When we first got deals on the coke from our brothers up north and along the east coast, we fucked up left and right in how to handle the shit; I fully admit to helpin' fuck that shit up in the worst goddamn way possible from simply bein' dumb as fuck. But once we got our hooks into how the game is actually played in sellin' and mulin' across town and beyond it, and were able to start rollin' it out to the right people who could give us bigger names for higher dough, we started makin' enough bank to leave us worry free. The shit has only lasted for six goddamn months and it's not e-fuckin'-nuff. Without that cushion to carry us through, we're back to workin' double-time at the bar and garage with the possibility of havin' to dig right back into findin' bitches to spread for a goddamn camera -- ass out, cocks in. Or worse, beggin' Rocka to return his share of ACE'S. Now, I don't know about you, but in between all the times of my bein' upright, I like sleepin' and havin' my cock sucked in my own goddamn bed every now and then." He turned back to Chopper, who sneered. "I don't think that's too fuckin' much to ask right now, brother."

  "It ain't," piped up Coco. "Not at all. You and Prez are right in sayin' we've gotta reclaim what the fuck has been stolen from us by a buncha twenty-somethin' assholes on a campus full of young, tight pussy and a buncha tic-tac worthy cocks that got no goddamn clue what the fuck to do with 'em. Shit, I like havin' my cock sucked too, both here and home. And I like bein' able to eat good food when the pussy ain't in the kitchen makin' it for me -- and I like bein' able to have more in the bank for my kids and their mothers when needed. I like bein' more than 'settled'." He paused. "I didn't get into the notion of a brotherhood 'cause I like bein' a holy ass motherfucker -- I'd catch on fire the minute I stepped into a goddamn church that ain't the one we got right fuckin' here and now." He pointed to the table and grinned. "Coke might be some kinda work of the Devil -- but so fuckin' what? Ain't that who the fuck we are? I'm proud of that shit; proud of all my patches and that we ain't pretendin' to be anything else to satisfy a buncha pussy assed, cock suckin' bitches who hate our asses any fuckin' way; I'm proud we're sellin' pure blocks of white -- not dirty, off the street shit that gets you fuckin' dead at the first blow; we can't control what motherfuckers choose to do with it once they have it. Like buyin' a goddamn car; you sell the shit to some asshole, you can't control if he uses it as a getaway from a murder scene or some shit, yeah?" He reached into his cut for a joint and lighter, shoved the joint into his mouth and flashed a bright red flame across the tip. After a deep inhale, he dipped his head to blow out the smoke, then pointed at Xavier and nodded. "Think I know how the fuck we can stop those 'daddy buy me shit' pricks dead in their goddamn tracks."

  "And how the fuck is that, asshole?" asked Pecker.

  "Beat 'em at their own fuckin' game; jump in headfirst and rip that operation clean open from the inside like a ripe pussy ready for brand new cock."

  Xavier swallowed back a chuckle and cleared his throat. "How the fuck do we do that shit when none of us around here can actually go back to fuckin' school and fit the fuck in?"

  "No, brother we can't." He tipped his head forward. "Your ass can, though -- quite fuckin' easily."

  Prez sat up in his chair and made a face. "What the fuck are you talkin' about with this bullshit?"

  Coco took another hit from his joint and grinned. "This shit is happenin' on a goddamn college campus, Prez. Tight, young pussy loves the long hair and blue eyes on this motherfucker like a walkin', tanned up Ken doll -- and he's the perfect fuckin' age with no grey comin' in just yet. Look how many bitches flock to him out here before even thinkin' 'bout the rest of us. Only when he finally picks one to fuck silly in the apartment do the rest go scatterin' for randomly patched-in cock. Prospects are lucky if they even see half a goddamn nipple while bein' told to find the clit on some other bitch."

  Tractor snickered and looked to Coco while rattling his head. "What the fuck are you lookin' for with this shit, brother? You think this asshole can somehow fuck his way across that campus in order to put an end to what's goin' down out there? 'Cause pussy ain't the reason we're currently gettin' fucked in a way that ain't makin' us cum."

  "Pussy is the reason those little dick assholes got into this shit in the first goddamn place, you gotta know that shit brother. Pussy is what drove their need to usurp our business and make a fuckin' profit for themselves -- no matter how goddamn small the shit might be. They wanna look like big dicks on campus -- look like fuckin' ballers even if they ain't. Pussy rolls in just fine if you can talk the talk, even if your walk is shit. Whoever the fuck might be helpin' 'em out let 'em know that shit off the bat; here we are as a goddamn result."

  Xavier sighed. "I still ain't exactly sure where the fuck your ass is goin' with all this shit or how the fuck I'm supposed to fit in with it."

  "Simple. Your long hair, blue eyes and your giant cock are gonna get us where the fuck we need to be inside."

  "Why can't we just bust these assholes with a raid?" Poke interjected. His eyes shifted between brothers as he opened his hands in question. "Tip off the right people--"

  "You think those motherfuckers won't come gunnin' straight for us with this shit?" said Prez. "I don't need your recently patched in ass sayin' stupid shit and makin' us regret our goddamn vote."

  "Those campus assholes stole our goddamn business, which means they will fuckin' know we're the ones who ratted 'em out, asshole," said Xavier. "And because they were able to snatch our shit undetected, it means they've got other shit we don't know about -- shit liable to get us more fucked than we've been already. Not to mention, those city cops will be on our asses in a fuckin' heartbeat; the shit would turn this town upside down -- inside fuckin' out and we've got enough paper trails out here worthy of throwin' us inside for the rest of our goddamn days. Can't afford to fuck this shit up by bein' fuckin' stupid."

  "In other words, motherfucker, a goddamn raid is out." Prez glared. "Coco is right, we need to get in this shit from the inside. Chop off the head of this goddamn snake before it expands and we've got no goddamn way of gettin' back what the fuck we've already lost."

  "How the fuck am I gonna get inside a goddamn University, Prez?" Xavier looked down at himself and tugged at his clothes. "My cock ain't leadin' with a goddamn thing when I'm too fu
ckin' deep into this shit -- may as well have Blue Devil tatts up to my motherfuckin' eyeballs." He paused. "I ain't been without my cut since I patched in."

  "Teachin', asshole," muttered Coco. "Head of the fuckin' class kinda shit."

  Xavier gradually turned to him and soured. "What. The fuck?"

  "Teach." He smoked the last of his joint before dropping it into an ashtray and throwing his hands back on top of his head. "Young, tight pussy don't just love a motherfucker that looks like you, but loves you at the front of a classroom; sophisticated shit, you know. You're a goddamn fantasy waitin' to happen; a walkin', talkin' wet pussy dream." He bellowed.

  "He been in some of yours lately, brother?" questioned Pecker. "That's why you want this shit? Bitches ain't the only ones you wantin' to go down on that cock?" He fell back in his chair and barked with laughter.

  Coco glowered and flipped him off. "You'd be the first to tickle my balls with that half-split tongue of yours, asshole."

  "You think this motherfucker can just walk his ass into an office and say he wants a goddamn job as a teacher on their fuckin' campus 'cause bitches love bobbin' on his cock?" asked Cheddar. "As fuckin' what?"

  He shook his head. "Fuckin' details."

  "That matter," he replied. "Motherfucker, I know I ain't been to nobody's school since I was too goddamn young to spell 'tits' and 'cunt', but I'm pretty fuckin' sure that what you're sayin' ain't how shit rolls out there or anywhere else."

  "He ain't gonna just walk out there -- he's gonna apply for the shit on a computer like any other asshole lookin' for a goddamn J. O. B. in this day and age."

  "And if he doesn't fuckin' get it?"

  "I ain't skilled in shit but mechanics," said Xavier. "What the fuck out there could I even apply for that's got nothin' to do with that?"

  "We'll figure somethin' out." Coco smirked. "In the meantime--"