Riding in the Night (Live Free MC Erotica)

Riding in the Night

He slid his steely member in and out of me,
slowly at first, but gaining speed as we went. One hand rested on
my hip, the other had a fist full of my hair, pulling just enough,
like the reigns of a horse. I was his filly and he was breaking me
in.

I looked into the full length mirror and
another wave of pure sexual release hit me as I watched him fuck me
from behind. My tits bouncing with every motion. He was staring at
my ass, watching his penis slide in and out of me, but then he
looked and we locked eyes in the mirror and I my pussy convulsed
and the massive orgasm shook me hard. My body convulsed and
wouldn’t stop. My toes curled, my hands gripped the chair so hard I
thought I would break it.

Rian stopped rocking me, but stayed inside.
“Good?” he said, I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh God,” I said.

He pulled out and untied me and we fell to
the bed, tangled in each other.

“Tell me.”

“Not now,” I said.

“Tell me now. I have to know.”

I said I would tell Rian all about my past.
How I had come to know so much about life in the MC. It was a story
I wasn’t looking forward to, but it had to be told and it was as
good a time as any. I closed my eyes, started talking, and didn’t
stop until I had said everything.

***

It was a few years ago. I was working in a
bar, not the kind of fun, exciting go out on a Friday night kind of
place, but the kind of sad, lonely place where you could drink and
never strike up a conversation with another soul. My official job
title was bartender, but did it all. I poured the drinks, swept the
floor, and even ordered supplies if the manager was too drunk or
stoned to do it himself. It wasn’t the kind of place you wanted to
spend the rest of your life, but I had to admit it was what I
needed at that point. I had just lost my job due to cutbacks and a
week later my boyfriend of two years took off with some friend of
his. I was at a low point, maybe my lowest, and that bar seemed
like the best place I could be. Like everyone else there, I was
hiding from the world.

I remember it was a Tuesday night, sometime
after midnight. I was thinking about shutting the place down
because the only person there was Tommy, the 59 year old former
baseball player, and he had been passed out for an hour.

The door opened and he walked in. He
was not the type that usually walked into that bar. He was tall,
with dark soulful eyes. Muscular, but not big, a swimmer’s build.
He reminded me a lot of guy from
True
Blood
, the tall blonde guy. What made him blend in to
the place was his appearance. His white v-neck t-shirt was torn and
there was a deep cut above his right eye that was healing
badly.

He sat at the bar and ordered a whiskey.
“Have one for yourself, on me.”

I poured a second and we clinked glasses.

“Rough night?”

He drained the glass and motioned for
another. “What’s with him?” he said pointing to Tommy.

“He’s here every night. Falls asleep in that
same spot most nights. Used to play ball.”

“Anyone I’d ever heard of?

“No, not unless you follow Triple A
teams.”

He shook his head and took another drink. He
looked around the place and noticed the broken pinball machine with
the glass smashed inside.

“Have some trouble here?”

“Been like that ever since I’ve been here.
Manager can’t or won’t get rid of it.”

“Maybe it has sentimental value.”

I smiled at him. “Maybe.” He had this easy
way about him and when I talked to him he made it seem like the
rest of the world drifted away. “What time does this place
close?”

I walked over to the neon sign and switched
it off. I turned off all the lights in the place except the small
ones over bar. We walked to Tommy and hoisted him of his chair. We
half walked half carried him to the door. He thanked me for a most
wonderful evening and walked out into the night.

“He going to be OK?”

I said, “Never had a problem before. What
now?”

“One more drink and we hit the road.”

“What makes you think I’m going anywhere with
you?”

He reached behind the bar and grabbed the
bottle. He poured us each a drink. “Stay if you want. I can see how
you’d be attached to this place. So much charm.”

I took my drink from his hand and said, “OK,
smartass. Before you take me away care to tell me your name?”

“Bishop. That’s what people call me anyway.
Like a religious guy, not like a chess piece. I’m the guy everyone
goes to when they have a problem. They used to at least.”

“My name is Marie,” we shook hands and
laughed at the silliness of shaking hands so long after meeting,
but there was a spark between us as we did,

I locked up and he got on a motorcycle.

“No way, those things are death traps.”

“It’s safe. Especially when I’m in
control.”

I hesitated but took got on the back. Don’t
ask me why I was doing what I was doing. Going off into the night
with a strange man -- a bloody man -- on the back of his motorcycle
was the craziest thing I had done at that point, but maybe I needed
the crazy. If he had come along on any other day, at any other
point in my life things wouldn’t have gone down the way they
did.

We tore through the streets, going way too
fast, but I never felt in danger, not once. He was a master of his
bike, taking every curve and hill with ease and confidence. I had
never been on a bike before and I wasn’t prepared for the deep
vibration running through my body, starting between my legs. I
gripped him tighter and felt the warmth from him.

We rode for a long time. Despite my
reservations about the bike it was an amazing way to see the city,
especially at night. The lights, the after hours crowd, the smells
I could never get in a car. I was hooked.

We stopped at little joint I was surprised to
see open this late. It was a small concrete building with a neon
sign in the window that said, “Now Frying.”

We went inside and it smelled fantastic. A
little man with a greasy apron came out of the back and smiled big
when he saw Bishop. He noticed the cut above his eye but didn’t say
anything about it. He shook my hand and introduced himself as
Smitty. He ran behind the counter and got a half empty bottle of
whiskey and two glasses. He brought them around to us and promised
something tasty soon.

We sat at a table. As Bishop poured our
drinks I said, “What do they make here?”

“Fried chicken mainly, but Smitty will fry up
just about anything if you ask him.”

I noticed a slight southern accent as he
spoke. It hadn’t been there earlier.

“I’m from Kentucky, but my accent only comes
out when I’m drinking. Or talking about fried chicken.”

Smitty came out with two plates of chicken
and french fries. It was hot, greasy, and delicious. We stopped
talking as we stuffed our faces. When we were done I thought I
might explode. We sat back with our drinks and enjoyed the feeling
of a good meal in our stomachs.

“What about this?” I said, pointing to his
cut.

“I had a disagreement with some people. It’s
fine.”

I didn’t get a chance to ask anymore. Four
guys in matching leather vests came in. They came right to the
table. The biggest guy stood next Bishop. He had buzzed hair and a
belly so big I doubt his vest could have closed properly. Each guy
had patches on their vests.

“Bishop,” said the big guy.

“Taylor,” said Bishop.

Taylor stared, but Bishop looked over each
one of them.

Taylor took a deep breath and said, “You got
a problem now. You know Smitty’s is our turf and here you are.”

Bishop stared right back at him and said,
“Smitty’s is Eagles territory and that means rival Motorcycle Clubs
can’t come in here, but since I’m not a rival MC, I’m just here as
a private person eating his dinner those rules don’t apply to
me.”

“You seem to think a lot of rules don’t apply
to you.”

“I think stupid rules made by assholes don’t
apply to me.”

One of the other bikers, with a big beard
made a move on Bishop, but Taylor stopped him. “Not here. Don’t
disrespect the chicken shack. Take it outside.”

We all walked outside. Taylor turned to me
and said, “You should go. This little prick here is about to have a
serious fucking accident. It’s going to get ugly. Best to remember
him as he is right now, with his pretty face still in one
piece.”

Bishop said, “Just stay right there Marie. I
won’t be a minute.”

Taylor turned to Bishop and made a move on
him. Bishop kicked Taylor’s knee out and the big guy went down.
Bishop grabbed his vest and punched him across this thick jaw.
Taylor fell to the pavement. The bearded guy came close and Bishop
smashed his nose with an elbow. He grabbed his shoulders and
Bishop’s knees slammed into his crotch. Bearded guy let out a long
howl.

The other two came in close, but Bishop
pulled a gun and they stopped.

“Guys, don’t make this any worse. You don’t
want this any more than I do.”

They must have agreed because they didn’t
make a move with Bishop holstered his gun. We got on Bishop’s bike
and it roared to life. Just before we took off Bishop turned to
them and said, “Think about what you’re doing fellas,” and we were
off again.

I gave directions to my place since Bishop
thought it would be best if he stayed away from his place for a
little while. We pulled in front of my apartment and made our way
upstairs.

“You want to tell me what the hell that was
all about?” I said.

“Not really.”

“Considering you’re in my place, which I am
letting you stay in because those guys look like they might kill
you, you better start talking.”

He got right up in my face and said, “Don’t
tell me what to do. Better learn that quick.”

“Who the hell do you think you are? There’s
the door. Get the hell out.”

I grabbed his arm, trying to make him move,
but he took a hold of me and kissed me hard on the mouth.

I broke apart and said, “Don’t ever do that
again.”

He kissed me again and held me ever closer as
I tried to struggle away. His hands were all over my breasts, down
my back to my ass, and across my pussy. I continued to struggle,
but I was kissing him back, kissing him hard. I rubbed his crotch
and felt his erection grow under his pants.

I was so turned on, I couldn’t explain it.
The danger, the thrill, and Bishop’s incredible sexiness was
overwhelming. Before I even realized it our clothes were off. He
yanked my panties down hard. He smacked my ass several more times,
his hand on my bare skin stung. I felt my ass getting red and
wished I had a mirror so I could see for myself. He smacked me two
more times and I was in glorious pain.

“I’m in control here, you understand?”

“Yes sir,” I said nodding.

He rubbed my ass gently with his hand and ran
a finger down the crack of my ass. His finger found my pussy and
began massaging. After the pain of the spanking, the gentle touch
on my pussy felt amazing. He inserted a finger and moved it in and
out.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes, sir.”

He sat on the couch, pulling me down with
him. I was sitting between his legs, my back to him. He reached
down and stroked my pussy a bit. I leaned my head back and he
kissed me. His middle finger was positioned perfection between my
folds, on my clit. He moved his hand back and forth. He was
amazing. I had never had this kind of connection with someone
before. He knew what I wanted and how to get it.

He rubbed me and pinched my nipples and just
as I was about to come I made him stop. I turned around and kneeled
down in front of him, taking his cock in my mouth. I played with
his balls as I moved my head up and down. I looked up at him and he
was watching me suck his cock.