Desert Venom Motorcycle Club: The Complete Novella: (Military and Law Enforcement Erotica) (2 page)

Chapter Two: Wide-Eyed Women

Colt Mendoza met with Carlos Santilla, a representative of the Twisted Nut Whorehouse in Mexico. Santilla made money on the side by selling time with blonde girls to rich men from China and the Middle East.

Santilla didn't look like a slave trader. He looked like the man who cleans out the pool once a week or the guy who dries off the car at the car wash. He was under average height with a forgettable face, brown skin, brown eyes, and a pleasant smile. He said to Colt, "Can you get me a blonde by this time next week?"

"Yes. I can get you a virgin if you want."

"You sure? Virgins are hard to find."

"I'll do it if I have to raid a kindergarten in Flagstaff. How much?"

"Ten large."

"It's a deal."

***

Daphne O'Connor said, "I won't marry him, mother. I don't want him."

Mother didn't get a chance to answer. Her father dominated the room. "You'll marry him and like it. He's got what we need, and you're going to do what's necessary to get it for us."

Nobody said anything for long, uncomfortable minutes. Daphne's younger sister, Lauren, age 19, tried to melt into the wall. She didn't like it when Daphne fought with her father. He grumped at everyone the rest of the day. Lauren was different from her sister. They both had naturally blonde hair, but Lauren was middle height or less. Her breasts dominated her figure. It was as if someone had created a girl at eight tenths scale but left her breasts full size. Her father had made her feel self-conscious about her breasts since they started growing when she was 12. He called them Satan's tools.

Daphne said, "He's twice my age. He's fat. I won't let him touch me."

"I don't care. As long as you marry him, and we get access to his money."

Daphne picked up her purse and headed out the door.

"We'll talk about this tonight." Her father's last words chased her down the sidewalk and into her car.

"No, we won't."

Daphne O'Connor was 20, tall and well built. She'd grown up in a home controlled by her father. He'd selected all of her classes, her reading material, and the boys she was allowed to date. She worked as a teacher's aide in an elementary school.

She pounded on the steering wheel with one hand, cussing her father. She was in the middle of an especially colorful forbidden word when she saw a building set back from the street with twenty motorcycles parked in front. On an impulse, she pulled into the parking lot and walked inside the clubhouse of the Desert Venom Motorcycle Club.

She wore a blouse with a scoop neck and a short skirt. It was summer in the border town of Western Grit.

The inside of the clubhouse stank. She wrinkled her nose and turned to leave. A very big man in a leather vest blocked her way and asked, "Could I help you?" He said it just like a woman on the phone from the credit card company when Daphne had a problem with her account. It wasn't scary.

Daphne said, "I'm sorry. I'm in the wrong place. I need to leave."

The big man said, "Perhaps our club president could help you."

A big hand fell lightly on Daphne's shoulder. She turned and saw the most handsome man she'd ever seen. He smiled. She decided, based solely on his looks, that he could, indeed, help her.

Colt Mendoza was six feet three inches of lean, well-groomed, former convict. He had convictions for drug running and assault. His father, the Mayor of Western Grit, and his uncle, a longtime Sheriff had been getting him out of scrapes with the law for half of his 26 years.

His voice was easy and calm, "What seems to be the trouble?"

Daphne said, "I wandered in here by mistake. I'd like to leave."

Colt said, with assurance, "No, you wouldn't. You're in the right place. You need help dealing with someone in your life who's making you miserable. We can offer you that help. Come into my office."

Turning points in our lives come at definite times and places. We can look back on them later and pinpoint the moment we took the wrong or right turn. Daphne turned the wrong way and followed Colt to his office.

His room was spacious and held a desk and chairs, a TV set, and a daybed. It was clean and smelled nice. Colt gestured toward the daybed, which was now setup as a sofa with pillows.

Daphne sat down and smoothed her skirt over her legs. Colt sat down next to her, not too close. He sat close enough to have a conversation, but not close enough to make her feel threatened.

His first words confirmed her inaccurate feelings of safety, "I'm a minister with the First Church of Divine Right. My ministry is with these club members." He gave her a real smile.

Daphne felt electricity inside her hips. His voice was deep and stirring. She'd never had a real boyfriend and neither had any of the friends daddy hand-picked for her. She'd never felt the pounding drive of an unsatisfied need for sex until Colt sat down next to her.

He continued, "I've counseled with many young women like you. They've been held prisoner by someone in their lives, usually their fathers. They've never been given a chance to strike out on their own because the only place that offers stability and safety is the home they're trying to run away from. We offer an alternative to that stultifying home life. You're safe here. You can stay as long as you want, leave whenever you want to. We don't ask anything of you. We offer you the chance to find a whole new life."

The words sang to Daphne. She wanted to leave home, leave daddy, leave the rules.

"We have rooms for young women and some older women to chaperone. Would you like to take a look at them?"

Daphne wanted nothing more than that.

Colt led her out of his office to a row of doors down a long hall. He opened the second door.

When Daphne looked through the doorway, she saw a simple, very clean, and comfortable room with a bed, book case, television and shower. Colt patted the door.

"This door locks and you'll have the only key. The room is free. What do you think?"

Daphne felt like she should be cautious. She said, "It's nice, but I'll have to think about it."

Colt nodded and got out the first word of his reply, but was interrupted.

A man with tattoos and muscles was coming out of the kitchen with a big pot full of barbecue sauce. Colt stepped back. The cook stumbled over a brick on the floor and fell toward Daphne. He didn't hit her, but the sauce did. It drenched her to the bone with sticky, sugary liquid. The blood-red sauce completely soaked her blouse, skirt, and shoes.

The man apologized. Colt apologized and offered to get her clothes dry cleaned, even said he'd buy new ones for her.

He said, "You have to get out of those clothes. Come into your room. You can get them off and take a shower. The closet has some basic clothes. You can get into those after you shower."

Daphne thought, "What choice do I have? I can't leave here looking like this."

Colt led her into the room and showed her how to lock the door.

Daphne left her blouse and skirt soaking in the washbasin. The sauce hadn't soaked through to her panties. She hung those on a hook behind the door of the bathroom.

The shower worked. It sprayed comfortable, warm water. After the shower, she looked in the closet. Colt had said there were some clothes in there, but she saw only a short robe made of silk. It was embroidered and expensive. She slipped it on. It felt delicious next to her skin.

There was a knock on the door. She looked at herself in the mirror and approved of what she saw. She opened the door to Colt who had a big glass of lemonade in his hand. He said, "I thought this would help you feel better." He brushed past her without making it appear that he was invading her room and picked up her blouse and skirt. He dumped them in a plastic sack and started to leave the room. As he left, he picked up her panties and threw them in the sack as well.

He said, "We'll get these clean quickly. We have a washer and dryer in the club. Relax here. Watch some TV. I'll bring them back to you." He locked the door as he left.

Daphne felt deliciously naughty. She never spent much time almost naked. She took a drink of lemonade. It was strong, but pleasant. She sat in front of the TV and relaxed. The lemonade tasted better and better as she drank more. She finished the large glass in fifteen minutes.

Colt knocked on the door. Daphne answered, her voice slurring slightly, "Hi, Colt. Want to watch 'Price is Right' with me?"

Colt stepped inside and closed and locked the door. That bothered Daphne. She started to say something.

Colt stopped her from saying it by wrapping his arms around her and kissing her hard on the mouth. Daphne had always gone out with well-mannered boys who never tried anything. Colt's approach overwhelmed her.  She was so surprised she kissed back. He opened his mouth and she opened hers. They kissed like this until Daphne backed off and said, "Just a minute, Colt."

That's all she said. Colt picked her up and laid her down on the bed. He laid down beside her and kissed her again. He undid the tie on her robe and slipped his hand inside and immediately covered her pussy.

Daphne tried to raise up off the bed. Colt had his mouth firmly closed over hers. She tried to take his hand away. He was much stronger than she was. He started making small, firm circles over her clitoris. She tried to scream, but no sound got out.

He kept her in that position until she stopped actively fighting back. His voice was strong and commanding when he said, "Listen to me. I know what's best for you. This will irrevocably separate you from your father." His fingers worked on her as he said this. Her mind went a little fuzzy. He continued, "That's what you want isn't it?"

She tried to come up with an answer. She couldn't. It was much easier to let Colt make the decision. His hands on her body made her head spin. Her hips felt like a forest fire was burning between her legs.

Colt opened her robe completely. He sucked her nipples inside his mouth and gently bit them. He slipped his middle finger inside her pussy. She jumped. He used his thumb on her clitoris and she jumped again, but not as badly. Over the next few minutes, he pressed his thumb harder on her clit and pushed his finger further and further inside her pussy. His mouth stayed busy with her breasts. She protested at first, but not for long. After a half an hour, she was moaning and bringing parts of her body to him for his attention. She rubbed her pussy against his hand and made him move from nipple to nipple when she wanted.

He stood up next to the bed and took his clothes off. She watched him do it with the interest of a moth to a burning fire. He held his huge cock in front of her eyes for her to examine. She willingly curled her hand around it and pumped it. He put his hand on the back of his head and pulled her mouth to his cock. She said, "No. I don't want to do that."

He told her, "Yes, you do. You'll do it for me." He pulled her again and she opened her mouth and took him inside. He reached down and rubbed her pussy as she gave him oral sex.

It surprised Daphne that she liked doing it. She enjoyed the hardness of Colt's cock and the way the head of his cock felt under her tongue. Long minutes went by before Colt stopped her and climbed between her legs. The only thing she did to protest was turn her face to the side. Colt used his hand on the side of her head to make her look at his cock as he set it in the entrance to her pussy. Her eyes widened as he used his fingers to spread her lower lips apart. He pushed the head of his cock inside her and let go. Her pussy lips closed around him.

His penetrations and withdrawals started small and slow and became deeper as she opened up. He made strong eye contact while he was over her. She lost herself in his eyes.

After a few minutes, he was all the way inside. He ground the head of his cock against the back wall of her pussy. She moaned and looked at the ceiling without seeing it. Her nipples stood up like tiny, red soldiers on top of round, shifting hills.

His thrusts shoved her up the bed. She closed her eyes and let her legs drift apart. He put his hands around her waist and pulled him to her. She grunted every time he hit the other end of her pussy. Her chest and neck turned deep red. She rolled her eyes back in her head and arched up in the air. Her arms frantically reached out, trying to grab something that wasn't there. Her feet clenched. Her legs shook. She grunted loudly as her orgasm took her. He keep penetrating her with long, relentless strokes.

As she settled down, she looked up at him with confusion in her eyes. He said, "Here it comes."

She anxiously said, "Don't come inside me. Not up me. I'll get pregnant. Don't..." Just after she said, "Don't", she felt his hot semen pulse inside her womb. He held himself deep inside her and came for a long time. It filled her with warm, unwelcome sensations. A tear appeared in the inside of her left eye. Her voice was hopeless. "You've done it. I'm pregnant. I'll never go home."

He smiled, "Well, that was the main idea wasn't it?"

She settled back on the bed in misery.

He let himself down on top of her.

"Hold me with your arms and legs. I'm going to stay here for a while." She wrapped her legs around his midsection and her arms around his neck, and cried silently.

Ten minutes later, he got hard again. She groaned, but didn't take her arms or legs away from him.