“Brandy, would you come see me for a minute,” Vic called to me as he walked by my office. I looked up from the stack of folders on my desk, grabbed my coffee and followed my boss to his office. I wound my way through the boxes and stacks of papers, files and law books that sat in the hallway between our offices and found Vic shuffling through the mess that he called his desk.
“What do you need...besides someone to organize that rat’s nest?” I asked. Vic looked at me meaningfully.
“You volunteering?” he asked in return. Vic was middle-aged but you’d hardly know it but for the grey in his beard. His head was shaven and he wore a hoop in one ear. Vic worked out a lot and under his dress shirt and tie, his arms, and presumably his chest too, were covered in tattoos. As usual his sleeves were rolled up to his mid forearm, his tie was worn loosely and even though it was only nine in the morning, Vic looked like he’d been at work for ten hours.
“Um, no. Thanks anyway. You should really look for a bigger place, you know,” I advised him.
“Rents cheap and the clients don’t care,” he told me. That was for sure. Our clients weren’t exactly high class. Vic was a criminal defense attorney and I was his assistant attorney. This was the kind of job you got when you graduated from a state university with a law degree but that’s the best education I could afford without going into debt for the rest of my life.
Our clients were generally the dregs of society, potheads, bikers, strippers and escorts. It was glamorous...not! It was scary at times but I’d come to discover that our clients, Vic’s clients rather, respected a good defense attorney. They weren’t going to poison that relationship, especially if we could keep them out of prison and Vic was good at keeping his clients out of prison.
“Maybe a storage unit so I don’t trip and kill myself on the way to the coffee maker,” I suggested. Vic looked at me showing me his winning smile complete with the one gold tooth. He was a lawyer at least in part thanks to the Texas Department of Criminal Justice. He took correspondence classes serving time for robbing a series of liquor stores in the early nineties and then attended Texas A&M to finish his degree once he was released. Vic was reformed, sort of, and now he worked within the law here in Las Vegas and he was damn good at it.
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that. So, I’m taking Lacey to Hawaii next week,” he told me. Lacey, Vic’s wife, was a former stripper but she was sweet and very pretty even though her boobs were as hard as rocks. I mean, they looked as hard as rocks. I’d never felt them or anything.
“I know, you told me about the trip,” I replied.
“Yeah, well I tried to clear the schedule but Judge Sullivan was being a bitch as usual. You’re going to need to handle a hearing for me. It should be easy. The cops conducted an illegal search. Even Sullivan will see it and probably toss out the case,” Vic told me.
“Vic! I’m not ready for that,” I complained. I’d passed the bar the year before but I only went to court to assist Vic. I wasn’t experienced enough to do it on my own. Well let’s be honest, I was afraid of doing it on my own. Afraid I’d mess up, get someone thrown in jail and disappoint Vic.
“Kid, you’re ready. You’ll do fine. Just read over the file...,” Vic told me and then began rifling through the piles of folders on his desk. “Damn it, it was just...oh, here it is. Just read this over, present the evidence and he’ll walk,” Vic said as he located the file and handed it to me.
“Who will walk?” I asked wondering what type of client I was dealing with.
“Jack Anker. He’s a biker,” Vic told me and he must have seen the look on my face because he didn’t waste a second trying to sooth my concerns. “Look, he’s a rough character but he won’t bite the hand that feeds him. We’re meeting with him on Friday. I’ll make sure he plays nice. It’ll be fine,” he assured me.
This wasn’t what I expected when I decided to attend law school. I expected to find myself working in a law office with nice clients with normal problems. But instead, I was helping Vic defend criminals. I knew they deserved a good lawyer and that it was the State’s burden to prove they had broken the law, but many of the people we defended were obviously guilty and we got them off on technicalities. It didn’t always sit well with me.
Vic explained that the police and prosecutors had to follow the law and if they didn’t, our clients deserved to get off. I knew he was right and even Vic had refused to represent certain clients because of what they were accused of. Most of the crimes we dealt with were so-called victimless crimes. Disorderly conduct, solicitation, small time drug dealers and pot heads, violations of the entertainment ordinances, in other words strippers providing enhanced services, and stuff like that. We worked in Las Vegas and there were a lot of people trying to have fun or provide that fun to the people that came to town to party. Vic usually avoided the violent criminals and real bad guys.
“What did this Mr. Anker do?” I wondered.
“Cops searched him without a warrant, found a handgun. Look, he’s a biker but he’s not a criminal, well not a real criminal,” Vic told me and flashed his smile again. I rolled my eyes.
“Fine. I don’t want you and Lacey to miss out on your vacation,” I replied, the ever dutiful assistant.
“Thanks, kid. I’ll bring you a conch shell or something,” Vic told me.
“Wow, thanks!” I said with a hint of sarcasm. I needed to find a new job. I liked Vic but this wasn’t for me. I didn’t like the people we represented. Honestly, they frightened me. They lived lives that were foreign to me, that I couldn’t understand. I tried to stay on the straight and narrow, to stay out of trouble, but they seemed to enjoy living on the edge of lawlessness. I suppose what I did to defend them had merit but I always felt a bit grimy at the end of the day.
>>O<<
Friday arrived and since I had a meeting, even if it was with a biker, I dressed nice, a blue skirt suit, a pretty blouse, heels and all that. Vic was late but our meeting with Mr. Anker wasn’t until three o’clock. He probably had an impromptu meeting or more likely Lacey called him back to bed. That happened more often than Vic liked to admit but it was easy to tell. When he would finally make it into the office, he came in whistling. I didn’t blame him. Lacey was beautiful and had a great body. I knew her body wasn’t all real but I was still jealous of her fabulous body and that she had a loving husband even if he wasn’t really my idea of Prince Charming.
Vic was usually in by ten in the morning, however, it was after ten that morning when he finally called me. “Kid, I’m taking the day off. Lacey wants to go bikini shopping before we fly out tomorrow,” he told me. What?
“Vic, we’re supposed to meet with Mr. Anker this afternoon,” I reminded him.
“Oh shit! Slipped my mind. You can handle it, kid. You know the drill. I can’t disappoint the missus,” Vic told me.
“Oh, come on, Vic,” I complained and as I did I heard Lacey kissing on him and talking in that baby-talk I couldn’t imagine a man finding attractive. I guess Vic did, however, because he groaned.
“Sorry, kid. You’ll do fine. I’ve got to go,” he said and then I heard Lacey moan. Really? He couldn’t call me after they had sex?
“Yeah, have fun. You too, Lacey,” I replied, shouting so Vic’s wife could hear me.
“Uh huh! Thanks, Brandy! Oh God!” she replied as it sounded like she was about to climax.
“Later, kid,” Vic said and the phone went dead. Now I couldn’t get the vision out of my head of the bubbly blonde ex-stripper riding my boss. That wouldn’t have been so bad but I hadn’t had sex since...uh...um...had it really been since I was in college? Ug! But the vision faded as I remembered I had to meet with the biker all by myself later that day. Vic was a decent boss, easy going most of the time and he paid me really well but it was times like these when I wished I could have found a better job. Heck, right then I’d have taken a job as a legal secretary to get out of this meeting.
As expected, the day flew by. They always did when I was dreading something like meeting with this biker. I left to get lunch at about two that afternoon. I felt anxious and nervous as I walked down to the noodle place past the pawn shop, the two bail bond places and that seedy sex shop with the mannequin wearing the dominatrix gear. Yeah, I worked in a real nice part of town. I stayed and ate at the noodle joint among the mostly Asian patrons and then walked back, considering crossing the street to the liquor store and getting a bottle of something strong. I really wasn’t looking forward to this.
I must have missed the motorcycle parked on the street as I returned because in my office was a man whose appearance left no doubt that he was a biker. I stood in the doorway unsure of what to say as the man looked over my degree on the opposite wall. Finally, I cleared my throat and the man turned to face me. “Mr. Anker?” I asked.
“Fuck, don’t call me Mr. Anker. That’s my old man’s name,” he said and took a seat and threw his big, black boots and blue-jeans clad legs up on my desk. He was a tall man, with a narrow waist and broad shoulders. His sleeveless leather vest revealed muscular arms covered in tattoos. His golden hair fell just past his shoulders and his beard was worn short. His narrow gray eyes bore into me and I swallowed hard under his gaze.
“Jack?” I asked cautiously.
“Call me, Rogue,” he said. Rogue? Was that a nickname or something? It seemed kind of silly.
“OK, nice to meet you...Rogue. I’m Brandy. How did you get in here?” I said.
“I picked the lock. I figure you and Vic were at lunch or something. Where’s Vic?” he asked. Picked the lock? Nice!
“Um, he’s tied up,” I said and almost giggled. Lacey might have tied him up for all I knew. “I’ll be handling the hearing next week,” I told him.
“Yeah? Sweet!” he replied.
“Why is that sweet, Rog...are you sure I can’t call you Jack?” I asked. He looked at me and a sly grin crept over his face, a grin that made me slightly uncomfortable for some reason.
“For you, anything, doll. Jack’s fine. And sweet because I dig chicks like you in their little lawyer outfits,” Jack told me. I know I blushed and I hated myself for doing it. Suddenly, however, I’d wished I’d chosen something more conservative to wear. Not that the blue skirt suit wasn’t conservative but as Jack looked me over, it felt as if I was standing there in my underwear. The hem was just over my knees and my blouse had one to many buttons unbuttoned but it felt like he could see right through my clothes.
“Well, thank you but let’s stick to business, OK?” I urged the biker. He was exactly what I’d expected but nothing like I’d imagined. The jeans, the boots, the sleeveless leather vest, all fit my expectations. But this wasn’t the scuzzy, beer-bellied biker I’d envisioned in my head. Jack was all muscle and sinew, all rough and rugged, a bad boy with an attitude and everything a girl wants in a man even if she won’t admit it. Well, most girls anyway. Frankly, Jack scared the bejesus out of me.
“Sure, we can talk business. Let’s do it over drinks. Hogs and Heifers isn’t far,” he suggested. Hogs and Heifers was a biker bar in Downtown Vegas. It attracted tourists but most of them were bikers looking to hang out at the famous bar based on the original in New York. Las Vegas had its own versions of all kinds of famous places. I’d been there once with Vic and Lacey. It was rowdy and loud, not really my scene. I felt like I was about to get kidnapped or caught in a bar brawl at any moment.
“Gee, thanks but no thanks. Let’s just do this here. I’ve got a...date tonight,” I lied. Jack grinned again. He saw right through me and that worried me a bit.
“Whatever you say, Brandy,” he replied. I took a seat across the desk and took out his file. I asked him to explain the incident that brought him to us.
“Some cop with a stick up his ass pulled me over. Said my blinker wasn’t working. I had my 1911 with me. I’d been at the range practicing. It’s legal and all,” he told me.
“A 1911? That’s the handgun?” I asked.
“Yeah, a .45 caliber semi-auto. Anyway, he assumes I’m some kind of criminal and searches the bike. Finds the gun and charges me with carrying a concealed weapon. That’s bullshit. I was carrying it legal,” he said.
“You didn’t consent to a search?” I clarified.
“Fuck no! I got nothing to hide but he had no probable cause to search and I wouldn’t give it to him even if he asked. None of his damned business. He thinks because I look a certain way, that’s enough. Fuck him,” Jack told me, his anger and frustration coming out but not directed at me.
“Well, you’re right. That’s not enough. I think I can get this thrown out next week. You don’t even need to be there and honestly, it’s better if you weren’t,” I replied.
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“Look, I’m not judging but you...um...,” I began to say.
“I get it, doll. I look like a dirt bag and I might offend the judge’s delicate sensibilities,” he said finishing my thought though I wouldn’t have put it exactly like that.
“Look, Judge Sullivan is uptight. Let’s not give her a chance to make assumptions like that cop did. Chances are he won’t be there to counter my arguments and the prosecutor won’t have any hard evidence to challenge me. I’ll call you after and let you know what happened,” I said and then at the last moment added, “And you’re not a dirt bag.”
“Thanks, doll. You’re a saint. You sure you don’t want to go out with me and get fucked up?” he asked me. I felt bad for Jack. He was getting a raw deal. Didn’t matter what he was really doing with the gun, the cop didn’t have the right to search him. But, it wasn’t pity. It was professional. I was a lawyer and though I wasn’t always thrilled with the people Vic represented, I didn’t like seeing anyone get railroaded. Especially when it was just because of the way they looked.
I knew how that felt. I wasn’t ashamed of my body or the way I looked but plenty of people made assumptions about a big girl like me. I was lazy or lacked self-control, I was out of shape or ate like a pig, I was a loser. I wasn’t any of those things. I worked hard at my job and I took care of myself. So I wasn’t born slim and svelte. That didn’t mean I wasn’t in shape and it definitely didn’t mean I was a loser. So, I could identify with Jack. That didn’t mean I was going to go out with him and get fucked up as he put it.
“Gee, your quite the charmer but I’m meeting friends tonight,” I lied forgetting I’d already lied.
“I thought you had a date, Brandy?” Jack challenged me. Damn! That’s why I didn’t lie. I was horrible at it.
“Uh...that’s what I meant. I have a date with friends,” I said in hopes he’d buy it.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. I’m a big boy. You don’t need to lie to me,” he said. He knew what I was about and it was a bit disconcerting.
“Sorry, I just didn’t want to...look, you’re not my type,” I replied deciding to be honest but gentle.
“How do you know if you don’t take me for a test ride,” Jack replied as that grin crossed his face again. He clearly intended the double meaning. Suddenly, I felt warm.
“Um...no. I think we need to keep this relationship all business,” I replied.
“So, were in a relationship? That’s a start. But one thing has been eating at me. Are those pantyhose or are you wearing stockings,” Jake asked and I know I blushed at that. I had the sudden urge to cover up, my conservative outfit feeling even less so suddenly. Why would he even ask that?
“None of your business, Mr. Anker,” I replied, my voice trembling.
“Ouch! Stop it with the mister crap, doll. I’m not a gentleman, I’m not respectable and I don’t treat women like ladies,” he told me and winked suggestively. I realized I wasn’t breathing any longer and exhaled finally. Why did that make me feel so aroused? I had no idea but I couldn’t help but ask the obvious question.
“What do you treat women like?” I wondered trying to sound a bit judgmental but failing miserably and sounding curious, which I was. Jack pulled his feet from my desk, set them on the floor and leaned forward. His gray eyes narrowed even further as he stared into mine.
“Why don’t you let me show you? Let me bring out the bad girl inside, Brandy,” he offered suggestively. Oh my!
“I...I don’t have a bad girl inside,” I told him laughing as if the idea was ridiculous. He scoffed at that.
“Every woman has a dark side. A temptress, a bad girl, a whore longing to get out and stretch her legs...or spread them,” he said. I went absolutely red at that, my whole body warming up, my inner thighs feeling prickly from the moist heat. I didn’t know what to say to this man. Nobody had ever talked to me like that and I was sure when I found a man that did, I’d slap him across the face and walk away. Instead, dirty thoughts flashed through my mind. Wicked, naughty things that a girl should only think of in the dark by herself so no one would discover her secret desires.
“You’re making me uncomfortable,” I replied, tore my eyes from Jack’s and looked down at my lap self-consciously.
“I can see that. You’re cute when you’re trying not to fuck me silly,” he said. My head jerked up and I looked at Jack but no words came to mind. I was dumbfounded by his forward manner and I just stared as he grinned back at me. I swallowed hard again and then one thought entered my mind. The one and only response I could think of right then.
“Stockings,” I whispered and bit my lip. My heart was pounding and my breathing shallow. Jack chuckled softly and stood up. What was I doing? I couldn’t help myself. I was afraid of the way Jack made me feel, out of control and far too adventurous, but I found I wanted to do exactly as he suggested.
“Let’s go get fucked up, you and I, and see where things wind up,” he said. I wanted to say yes but should I? Jack was cute, don’t get me wrong, but he was a biker, a trouble maker, an outlaw of sorts. I was a lawyer for goodness sake. I shouldn’t be cavorting with men like Jack. However, I wanted to meet this bad girl he spoke of, see if I did indeed have a dark side as he implied. This man was going to get me into trouble.
“I don’t have a helmet,” I said and a flush of excitement and shame came over me. I was really going to do this despite my half-hearted attempt to find one last excuse.
“Fuck it. It’s not far. You’re a lawyer. You can talk the cop out of the ticket,” Jack said and winked at me. Fuck!
“I’m in a skirt,” I said wondering how that might work but sure Jack had a solution. Jack just laughed as he offered his hand. I took it, feeling as if the gesture signaled some kind of major shift in my life, and he pulled me to my feet. He looked me up and down and I could barely endure his gaze. It was intense and I could feel the desire in his eyes as he drank my curvy figure in.
“Damn, I love me a girl in a little lawyer outfit,” he said and tugged me behind him as he bent and grabbed his helmet. I grabbed my handbag and phone then turned off the lights as we went. Jack barely stopped long enough for me to lock the office as we left. I closed the metal bars over the glass door that matched the bars over the windows and locked them too. When I turned, Jack handed me his helmet.
“I was kidding, you can wear mine. I’ve got a hard head, or so my old man says,” he told me. I shuffled along in my pumps, stuffed my phone in my pocket and my handbag under my arm as I tried to put the helmet on. Thankfully, I put my long, dark hair in a ponytail that morning so it wouldn’t look too bad after wearing the helmet. But as I cinched the strap tight I saw Jack’s bike.
“Maybe I should drive,” I said as I looked the bike over. It was a piece of junk. Faded, cracked paint, rusty chrome and worn leather. I wasn’t getting on that thing.
“It’s a rat bike, old school, doll. It’s supposed to look like that. I promise, it’s solid and it rides like a dream,” he said. I looked at him skeptically and then back at the bike.
“It’s supposed to look like that?” I asked.
“We could take your cage if you want,” he said and when he saw the confusion on my face he told me, “You’re car. I call them cages.”
“Oh, well...,” I began to say but then I decided I’d gone this far. “Yeah, let’s take your bike, I guess. It’s not far, right?” I told Jack and handed him my handbag which he stuffed into one of the worn leather saddlebags. He grinned and straddled the bike. At least it had a seat made for two and a bar behind to keep me from falling off. Jack fired up the bike and it roared to life, shaking the ground with its low rumble. I could feel the vibration to my core. I stood there trying to think of a lady-like way to mount the bike but I was beginning to believe that wasn’t possible
“Hike up your skirt,” he said. I looked around self-consciously.
“But people will see,” I complained.
“Yeah, give us a show, doll,” Jack said. I smiled despite myself and looked around again. I reached down and grabbed the hem of my skirt, took a deep breath and hiked it up over my stocking tops so I could straddle the bike. I did it quickly and reluctantly but it was a bit of a thrill. I felt naughty and I kind of liked that feeling. What was this man doing to me?
“Feet on the pegs, watch the exhaust pipe and hold on to something,” he said.
“Hold on to what?” I asked as a bit of panic set in.
“The sissy bar or me,” he said and I chose the sissy bar, which I assumed was the tall, rusty, U-shaped bar behind me made of ornately twisted metal tubing. Jack turned, revved the bike, popped the clutch and we took off like a shot, the bike growling loudly as we did. Immediately I grabbed Jack instead as the power of the bike surprised me, wrapping my arms around his torso and finding his body as hard as it looked. He laughed as we tore down the boulevard and I held on to him for dear life.
I’d never been so terrified in my whole life as Jack sped down the boulevard, weaving in and out of traffic and generally going way too fast. We turned a corner and I was sure we were going to tip over. I squeezed him even tighter pressing my face against his back and closing my eyes. We didn’t tip, however, and when we came out of the turn I felt a rush of relief mixed with excitement.
“You’re going to kill us!” I shouted, my words barely audible over the roar of the engine and the wind. Jack laughed, a maniacal kind of cackle, and twisted the throttle. The motorcycle reacted immediately and accelerated strongly.
“Oh shit!” he hissed suddenly and hit the brakes but it was too late. A Metro cruiser was lying in wait behind a building as we ripped past. I turned to see the lights and siren flare to life and the Metro officer pull onto the Boulevard to pursue. “Hold on, doll!” Jack said and turned down the next side street as I squealed in terror.
We weaved and dodged through the back streets of the industrial area near the freeway and soon the Metro cruiser was lost in the maze behind us. Jack slowed, took us into a parking lot and then hid the bike behind a delivery truck and shut it down.
“What do you think you’re...,” I began to ask.
“Shh,” Jack warned me. I let go of him and sat behind him seething at being shushed as much as being taken on that harrowing escape. I crossed my arms and waited, frowning indignantly. Then the Metro cruiser drove past, his lights off and the siren no longer blaring. I held my breath, sure we’d be seen and arrested. Jack’s hand rested on the starter button as if he was ready to run if we were seen. I couldn’t go to jail. I was a lawyer, an officer of the court, and I’d probably lose my license. The cruiser disappeared and for a moment Jack and I remained still.
“All right, he’s gone,” Jack said.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
“What?” Jack asked all innocently as if he had no idea what I meant.
“You almost got me killed and then you almost got me arrested. I could lose my law license,” I told him angrily.
“You weren’t doing anything wrong. I was at the controls, you’re wearing a helmet. I’d probably go to the pokey and then you’d get me out,” Jack told me confidently.
“Don’t be so sure. Take me back to the office,” I ordered.
“No! You liked it and you know it,” he replied self-assuredly. I’d had enough. It wasn’t fun and I didn’t like it. That’s what I told myself anyway.
“Fine, I’ll walk back,” I said and started to get off the bike. Jack, however, reached back with his arms and pinned my stocking clad thighs to his sides. “Let go of me!” I told him.
“You’re not going anywhere unless it’s with me, Brandy,” Jack said as he looked over his shoulder at me. I stared at him with fire in my eyes but he wasn’t finished. “That was exciting wasn’t it? Dangerous and thrilling? You liked it. You’re turned on beyond belief. In fact, I bet you’re panties are soaked right now,” the bastard told me.
It wasn’t so much that what he said was offensive and crude, it was that he was right. I didn’t want to admit it. My pride dictated I not give him the satisfaction but I was afraid too. Frightened of admitting I liked riding behind him, of finding the brief chase and escape thrilling or the fact my panties were likely soaked through. So what did I do? I just stared at him but the edge had left my eyes.
“Uh huh. I’ll take your silence as an admission that I’m dead on,” Jack said as the roguish grin crept across his face. I wondered if that’s where the nickname came from. Still, I didn’t speak. I just looked into Jack’s eyes as his hands released their grip on my legs and moved towards the apex of my thighs. I stiffened and gasped. Then he found my garters and slipped his fingers under them, never taking his eyes from mine as he looked over his shoulder. Jack smiled, tugged on the garters and let them snap back into place.
“Ouch!” I said though it didn’t really hurt.
“If you’re through throwing your little fit, doll, let’s go have some real fun,” Jack told me. I didn’t reply or nod, only staring into his gray eyes unable to reveal my desire to do just as he suggested. He chuckled knowingly, sure of the effect he was having on me and then fired up the bike as I wrapped my arms around him again. We took off like a shot, roaring down the street without regard for speed limits or common sense. How did this biker see right through me, see my deepest desires, when I couldn’t?
>>O<<
We had to park Jack’s bike down the street because there were so many biker’s parked in front of the bar. Hogs and Heifers was jumping with loud rock music pouring out of the front doors and leather clad men and women milling about outside as well as inside. It was spring but already like summer in Las Vegas. Inside, there was barely room to maneuver through the crowds of bikers and sightseers. I looked absolutely out of place in my blue skirt suit, though I’d left the suit’s jacket in one of Jack’s saddlebags so I didn’t look like a complete frump.
We made our way to the long bar, where several women danced on top wearing very little in the way of clothes. I wasn’t sure if they worked there or if they were customers. The band was playing classic rock, the singer a girl built like me and her band an eclectic mish mash of looks and styles. The banner behind them read “Silicone Wookie.” They were pretty good and the crowd seemed to appreciate their music.
“Here,” Jack said drawing my attention from the band and its curvy lead singer. He held a shot glass.
“What is it?” I asked. Jack raised an eyebrow and just stared at me. “It’s Jack Daniels, isn’t it?” I asked though I was sure I was right. Jack smiled and threw back his shot. I smelled mine and it burned my nose but I put it to my lips anyway and tossed mine back as well. “Fuck!” I said as the whiskey burned my throat and warmed by insides. Jack handed me another and clinked his second shot against mine. He readied his and I followed suit and we tipped back the shots together.
“Oh my God!” I said and Jack grinned at me. I could already feel the alcohol working its evil magic but it felt good. I usually didn’t act like this. I was always worried what people might think or that I’d get in trouble. It wasn’t like I didn’t have fun but I always held myself in check, made sure things never got out of hand. I was having a hard time stopping myself at the moment, however.
“Let’s dance, doll,” Jack said and grabbed my hand. I barely had time to set my shot glass on the bar before Jack was leading me through the crowd. There wasn’t a dance floor so much as an area in the middle of the cozy bar where couples danced amongst the other patrons. Jack stopped and turned to face me, his arms sliding around my hips as he began to sway against mine. I followed his lead as my head buzzed pleasantly.
“You’re a troublemaker, you know that?” I told Jack. He flashed that roguish grin at me and squeezed my round ass. I looked around wondering if anyone might be looking and the full-figured lead singer of the band was watching as she sang and winked at me. I smiled and blushed.
“I’m going to fuck you tonight,” Jack told me. I turned my attention back to him and frowned.
“What?” I asked. Jack pulled me closer and kissed me suddenly. The whiskey on his breath mixed with the whiskey on mine as his tongue slipped into my mouth. I went stiff as his hand found the front of my blouse and he undid another button exposing even more of my ample cleavage. Then he broke the kiss and I could feel his erection pressed against me through his jeans.
“You heard me. In a couple of hours, you’ll be down to your stockings, garter belt and heels, bent over and coming like a cheap whore,” he said. I gasped but his words sent a tingle through my body. I bit my lip and wondered why I wasn’t offended or angered. Maybe it was his gray eyes bearing down on me, the whiskey working its way through me or maybe just some long denied desire. Whatever it was, I imagined the scene he described and it warmed me to my core.
“Why not right now?” I asked brazenly. Damn it, I wanted Jack but I wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t my type, though I wasn’t really sure what my type was. I was raised to be a good girl, to follow the rules and avoid men like Jack. He was trouble but right then, I wanted trouble for some reason and in direct opposition to everything I’d been taught throughout my life. I needed to see where this went even though I knew it probably wasn’t a good idea.
“Patience, doll. Let it age. Let the embers smolder a while,” he said. Oh, he was good. Now that I’d made the decision, for good or ill, to give myself to him he was going to make me wait. Damn him! We danced through a few songs, Jack staring into my eyes and feeling me up boldly. I was forced to slap his roaming hands away a few times for fear he’d start undressing me right then and there. When he had me all worked up and breathing heavy, we headed back to the bar. On the way, however, a drunken biker approached.
“Who’s the bloody, librarian?” he asked and cackled, amused at his lame joke. He was missing a couple of teeth and reeked of whiskey and worse.
“Piss off, pal,” Jack said to him. I was just going to ignore him. I’d been big my whole life and I was used to stupid people saying stupid things. My skin had grown thick but I’d been called worse than a librarian, especially considering I was essentially dressed like one at the moment.
“Fuck you and your fat old lady,” the biker said and spit at Jack but missed him and his spittle landed on my blouse.
“You just wore out your welcome, fucker,” Jack said casually and then punched the ragged biker square in the face. The stinky biker dropped like a rock to the floor and laid there bleeding from his nose trying to figure out how he got down there. Some of the crowd turned to see what the commotion was all about and I was sure we’d have to run out like we ran from the cop. However, the crowd gave the whole scene a collective shrug. One tall biker wearing a bandana and sporting a big beer belly even complained that there wasn’t going to be a real fight.
“Oh my God! You just knocked him out!” I exclaimed.
“He had it coming. He called you...,” Jack said but paused half a second and I was sure he was going to say fat but he didn’t. “...a librarian. You’re a fucking lawyer not a librarian,” he teased and winked at me. I smiled back, grateful for the gallantry and not focusing on my weight. A couple of bouncers came and dragged the fallen biker towards the door as if this was all totally normal.
“I thought you were going to say...,” I began to reply but Jack interrupted.
“Fat? Well you are,” he said. I was big but I wasn’t...well, I mean I guess...what? So much for my gratitude.
“What?” I challenged him. I was fat, I suppose, but he didn’t have to say so.
“Sorry, doll. You’re a big girl and one of the sexiest I’ve ever seen. I’m going to fuck your fat ass and you’re going to love every minute of it...and so am I. I’m not ashamed that I find girls like you sexy as hell. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it either,” he said. I swallowed hard and then looked away and grinned like a fool. I found the courage to meet Jack’s gaze again, biting my lip and feeling that warm tingle between my legs again. I’d never let my weight bother me. Not really, I mean. Sure I wished I was thinner and all that but suddenly being big felt really, really good.
“You sure we can’t go now?” I asked, maybe pleaded. That wasn’t me. I wasn’t usually so...forward...or was it desperate. But there I was all but begging this biker to take me to bed.
“Nope,” Jack told me and walked past me towards the bar. I sighed and followed like an eager puppy. Girl, get a grip! I was acting totally out of character and the more I did, the more I wanted to. Jack ordered us a couple of shots and two beers. Another biker and the woman he was with vacated a couple of bar stools to go dance and we took them over. Several patrons had joined one of the female bartenders on the bar and danced to AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” that the band was playing. I prepared to down my shot of Jack Daniels and noticed Jack looking up one of the lady’s skirts. She was looking down at him, encouraging him to do it and she wasn’t wearing panties anymore.
“What, you want a peek?” he asked when he noticed I’d caught him. The woman danced my way and lifted her skirt and stroked herself for my benefit.
“No! I mean...um...,” I stammered and Jack laughed as did the woman who then winked at me and danced away. “You’re a...a...a rogue,” I said.
“It’s not just a road name,” he said and suddenly turned towards me. His hand slid under my skirt and he stroked me through my panties. I gasped and looked around but it seemed nobody saw or maybe they just didn’t care. “Nobody wears stockings and garter belts anymore. What’s that all about?” he asked as he found my swollen nub. I sighed and tried to concentrate on the question as the warm pleasure spread from between my thighs.
“I hate pantyhose and stockings are so classy. I like the way they look and feel,” I said.
“So, you consider yourself a fancy girl, huh?” he asked.
“I don’t know, I guess,” I replied as I felt a rush of desire. Jack’s hand stroking me under my skirt might have been part of that.
“I thought only whores wore stockings,” he suggested. I frowned.
“Well, maybe I’m a classy whore,” I replied and slammed my shot and then took a big gulp of beer right after that. Jack grinned but he slipped his hand out of my skirt. I found I was severely disappointed he had but even more so when we licked his finger clean. Whether it was only to tease me or my essence was actually on his finger, I didn’t know or care. I reached out and grabbed the thick ridge in his jeans.
“Please?” I pleaded, almost ready to openly beg for Jack to take me somewhere and screw me silly. What the hell was wrong with me? I had no idea but I wasn’t complaining.
“Please what?” he asked playfully as he stroked my stocking-covered leg. I looked around and decided just to give in.
“Please take me out of here and fuck me, Jack!” I told him. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do, whether he would indulge me or deny me again. Then his eyes looked up towards the empty bar. “No! Really?” I complained. He just grinned and we both knew I was going to do it. I was going to get up on that bar and dance. I slapped his hand off my leg and squeezed his thick erection firmly before I slid off my stool and began to climb onto the bar.
I managed to get on top and stand up, swaying my hips. “Shake it, doll!” Jack shouted. A few bikers whistled and one even touched my leg. I kicked his hand away playfully and danced with a bit more confidence that had grown from somewhere deep inside of me. Jack stood and twirled his finger in the air indicating he wanted me to turn the other way. I did and his hands ran up the back of my stockings and over my tight skirt. Suddenly, Jack yanked the zipper down and then pulled my skirt down my legs.
I turned around and gasped. I was in a thong and my ass cheeks were bare for all to see. I should have been angry but the look in his eyes changed my attitude. He looked at me with such lust and desire that I bent my knees and shoved my panties against his face and held his head there. The crowd whooped and hollered at that. Why was I so eager to be so bad for him? Jack pulled away and lifted me off the bar as if I was nothing and set me on the floor in front of him. I was shaking and I felt hot, anxious, embarrassed and excited all at once.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said and kissed me. I eagerly sucked his tongue, more turned on than I’d ever been in my life. I stepped out of my skirt that had fallen to my ankles and tossed it up on the bar.
“About fucking time,” I told him, grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the front door. I barely considered the fact I wasn’t wearing a skirt anymore. The whiskey and my sexual arousal were clouding my judgment but at the moment, I didn’t care. We walked to Jack’s bike and once there it hit me. “I’m half naked,” I exclaimed.
“You’re going to be more naked pretty soon,” Jack told me. I turned, kissed him and squeezed his cock.
“Take me home and fuck me...Rogue,” I told him as I broke the kiss and pointed to the condo tower that stood on the opposite side of the freeway past the casinos of Downtown Las Vegas. Jack straddled the bike, fired it up and then I climbed aboard. The sun was down but it wasn’t dark yet as we rode off tearing through the back streets towards the freeway. We crossed underneath and Jack angled towards my building. It was one of the condo towers sprouting up around Vegas. The condo was expensive but Vic paid me well. As it turned out, people threatened with prison time paid top dollar for a good criminal defense attorney.
I pointed out the parking garage and then showed Jack my parking spot once we were inside since my car was still back at the office. Jack parked the bike and shut it down. We climbed off the bike and after Jack retrieved my handbag, we made out right there in the parking garage, Jack’s hands slipping down over my ass and squeezing. His fingers worked their way between my ample cheeks and I broke the kiss.
“What are you doing?” I asked him.
“This!” he said and yanked my thong from my hips and down my nylon covered legs. I stepped from them and Jack left them hanging from his handlebars. Jack then picked me up and set me on the hood of the Mercedes next to us. “Jack!” I exclaimed but then squealed and giggled as he spread my thighs and went down on me. His tongue swept up through my soft folds and then tormented my hot little button as his rough beard rubbed me. I looked around, sure we’d be caught but no one was there. I just hoped there weren’t cameras in the garage.
“You’re a...oh shit...a bad influence,” I said as I felt an insistent pleasure build within me. Suddenly, I crashed over the edge and I screamed despite myself. I basked in the delicious sensations until they passed and then modestly demanded he stop this. I pushed Jack from between my legs, reluctantly I assure you, and told him, “We’re going to get arrested.”
“You’re a lawy...,” Jack started to say.
“Shut up and take me upstairs,” I interrupted. Jack wiped my essence from his mouth wearing an evil smile and then helped me off the car. Two round patches of moisture where my ass had been began to fade from the black hood, the only evidence of the daring act. We walked towards the elevators, I pushed the button and we waited. Save my stockings and garter belt, I was naked from the waist down. The tails of my blouse covered me but just barely. The elevator arrived and the door opened.
“Hello, Brandy,” the Smith’s, a middle aged and seemingly conservative couple from down the hall, greeted me.
“Oh, hi,” I greeted them nervously and I hid behind Jack as they exited. They walked past and we scurried into the elevator as I giggled. I pushed the button to close the door before they turned to see my nakedness. I was sure they couldn’t see anything naughty but it was clear I wasn’t fully dressed. Mrs. Smith turned and looked back, a funny look on her face but the doors closed before she could see anything...I think...I hope.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” Jack told me with that fucking amazing grin on his face.
“Me?! You’ve got to be kidding. Why do you make me want to be so bad?” I asked. My God, I was half-naked in my building’s elevator. I’d danced up on the bar at Hogs and Heifers in just my panties and stockings. I was taking a biker I barely knew to my condo for sex. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t a prude but I wasn’t usually impulsive like this. I couldn’t deny, however, I was enjoying myself immensely and at the moment, I wasn’t in the mood or any condition to analyze my behavior.
“Suck my dick!” Jack said suddenly.
“What?” I asked in shock.
“Get on your knees and suck my cock,” he said slowly and firmly as he reached over and hit the red button that stopped the car.
“Jack! Here? The alarm will go off in a minute,” I said. The fact I didn’t say no wasn’t lost on me or Jack. He just gestured towards the floor with his eyes. “Fine,” I said and dropped to my knees, powerless to deny this man. I worked quickly at his wide leather belt and vintage blue jeans. I pushed them down around his thighs and then quickly freed Jack from his boxers. I wrapped my hand around his shaft, my fingers unable to meet on the far side, as I stared at his length.
Jack was smooth, his shaft and balls shaven, with a small patch of trimmed golden hair above his broad erection. Oh my God! I’d never seen a man this big in person and I found myself longing to impale myself on Jack’s manly cock. Instead, however, I took Jack into my mouth and slowly sucked his length as I looked up into his eyes. He wore that roguish, self-satisfied grin as he watched me service him. For half a minute I pleasured Jack with my mouth. He was as hard as the iron that his bike was made from but soft as silk on the outside.
Suddenly, the alarm blared and I stopped. Jack said, “Not yet,” as he pulled on the red button to quiet the alarm and we began to ascend. I went back to pleasing Jack as he towered over me but only for a moment before I stood and somehow got his jeans up and his throbbing cock wedged inside of them. The door opened and I peered out to find the hallway empty. What if someone would have been waiting on a lower floor? How scary and strangely exciting was the thought of them catching us? I was the second door from the elevator and I led Jack to my condo.
“Nice place,” he said speaking about the tower in general.
“Thanks,” I replied in an oddly casual manner for a skittish woman taking a biker she hardly knew back to her place for wild sex. I unlocked my door and led Jack inside. Once inside, I closed my door and leaned against it facing Jack. He turned to find me unbuttoning my blouse. Jack responded by peeling his sleeveless vest from his torso. Holy moly! His chest, and back as it turned out, was covered in tattoos. Skulls, dragons, tribal designs, you name it adorned his perfect body. His chest was broad and his stomach rippled with muscle. He wore a gold chain around his neck with a crucifix dangling from it but I’m pretty sure Jack didn’t attend church on a regular basis.
As I stared at his body, I tossed my blouse aside and then undid the clasp on my bra between my breasts. My bra popped open and my big breasts spilled out as I slid it down my arms and tossed it aside as well. “Is this what you wanted?” I asked standing in my foyer in only my white lace garter belt, tan stockings and black pumps. Jack looked at me like a dog staring at a big, juicy steak. I took my breasts in my hands and lifted one to my mouth and sucked my nipple to tease him.
“You fucking sexy whore,” he told me and I took that as he intended it, a compliment. He wanted me and I wanted him despite my earlier apprehension and right then, I didn’t care why. I’d gladly play his whore if that’s what he wanted. Jack couldn’t get out of his boots and jeans fast enough as I walked by him. I left him hopping on one foot as he fought his boot and I headed to my bedroom. For whatever reason, I’d found the bad girl Jack insisted lived inside of me and she was in control of my actions now.
“I’ll be waiting,” I said. Jack growled as he finally got his boot off and peeled off his jeans. I barely made it to the bedroom before Jack was there. He spun me around, seized my arms and kissed me. I melted as our lips pressed together and our tongues mingled. After a magic moment, Jack pushed me away and spun me around again. Then he forced me to bend over and I didn’t resist, supporting myself on the bed with my arms. His foot pushed one leg wide and then the other before Jack knelt, spread my ass cheeks wide and slipped his tongue between my velvet petals.
“Ooh!” I exclaimed as Jack shocked me. His lips and tongue, not to mention that prickly beard drove me wild. I felt an orgasm approaching as Jack let go of my ass and raked his fingers up the back of my stocking-covered legs. That sent a chill up my spine but then Jack slapped my ass with both hands and I squealed for him.
“You remember what I told you?” he asked me as he got to his feet behind me and his impressive manhood flopped into the deep valley of my ass.
“What?” I wondered looking over my shoulder. The crown of Jack’s cock protruded from between the round globes of my ass and looked so delicious.
“In nothing but stockings and heels? Bent over? Coming like a whore?” he reminded me and then I remembered. I was just as he predicted except for that last part, which I was sure Jack was about to make happen as well.
“You’re a man of your word,” I replied breathlessly and bit my lip in anticipation. Jack grabbed his cock and rubbed it up and down over my sex, coating us both in my juices and his. I was shaking I was so eager to get that thing inside of me and Jack was all too willing to oblige. He paused and then his cock sank into my wet pussy without a bit of resistance due to my slippery excitement. “Oh fuck!” I shouted as Jack grabbed one of my arms and then the other, pulling them behind my back and holding my wrists like handlebars. He pulled from me and thrust into me forcefully once again and paused.
“Fuck, you feel good, you sexy bitch!” Jack told me. I whimpered as I waited for him to take me hard and fast but he didn’t. I was at his mercy, my legs spread wide, my arms pulled almost painfully behind my back. I couldn’t have stopped Jack if I wanted and I didn’t want to.
“Please, do it, Jack,” I pleaded. My desperation surprised even me. I wanted this more than I could have imagined when I found him in my office mere hours ago. I needed it. I needed this sexy biker to make me his, to make me his whore, his bitch. I needed to be a bad girl.
“Excuse me?” Jack asked and pulled from me again only to thrust back into me hard and pause once again. Didn’t he hear me or...oh, I saw what he wanted. He wanted me to beg and I was more than happy to submit to his will.
“Fuck me, Rogue. Fuck me and do it hard. Please!” I told him. I looked over my shoulder with some difficulty the way he had my arms stretched out behind me and saw his self-assured grin. Jack licked his teeth and then clenched them tight before he suddenly gave me what I needed. Abruptly, his hips began pounding against my soft ass as his manhood hammered into me fast and hard. His powerful thrusts sent waves though my abundant flesh as my moans turned to screams and then my screams became shrieks.
I absolutely erupted in sensation, seeing stars as a surge of untamed sensations consumed me. If Jack wasn’t holding me up by my arms, I might have collapsed. I bloomed under his rough attention, thrilled in his violent thrusts. I managed to look back again but Jack was watching his long iron pipe disappear into my all too willing pussy and enjoying the ripples that spread through my soft flesh. But the respite only lasted a moment and another harsh and satisfying climax tore through me like Jack’s bike tore down the boulevard.
My shrieks turned to frantic gasps as the crazy spasms stole my breath. Jack let go of my arms and wrapped his arm around my waist and took my ponytail with his other hand. He tugged it hard and bent my head back as he somehow fucked me even harder. I screamed, a primal, guttural cry, as I came once, twice, maybe three times in rapid succession. The intense and glorious waves of electrified honey coursed through me and threatened to steal my sanity. Jack took me through one more orgasm but when it had passed, he pushed me away from him roughly and I crumpled onto the bed in a heap of quivering, satisfied and tingly flesh.
“You’re right, I am a man of my word,” Jack said. I rolled over, still gasping and shuddering, and watched as Jack crawled over me and kissed me. I took his head in my hands and greedily kissed him back. I was drunk but not with whiskey. It was lust and passion and desire.
“Do that again?” I demanded.
“You’re a slut, Brandy,” he whispered and grinned at me causing me to melt a little inside.
“You bet your sexy, rock hard ass, Rogue, and I need you to fuck me like that again,” I told him. I was fully engaged in my new role as bad girl now. Jack’s cock found my pussy without any assistance and he impaled me with his rigid member. I sucked in a sharp breath and held it as Jack began to slowly tease me. The pleasure built within as he slowly fucked me and I finally exhaled, “Fuck, that feels so good!”
Jack pinched a nipple between his thumb and finger, pulling and twisting. “You want it hard?” he asked. I nodded frantically. He twisted harder and the intoxicating pain spread. Then he let go and slapped my face lightly before taking my jaw in his strong hand and kissing me again. His hips thrust into me more quickly as he fucked my mouth with his tongue and I sucked on it desperately. Soon, Jack was pounding into me as we kissed but when another orgasm breached, I screamed out.
I reached down and found Jack’s ass. It was hard and taught like the rest of him, flexing with each thrust. I dug my nails in. Jack growled and I dragged them up and over his back and then wrapped my stocking covered legs around him locking my high heels together behind him. My nails left red trails up his back and over his shoulders as one hand grabbed the back of his neck and the other his head.
“Fuck me, Rogue! Fuck me,” I demanded, all modestly and self-control left back somewhere with half of my clothes. Jack bore down, his teeth clenched as he sneered at me. He gave it everything he had as we rocked as one, his cock driving me mad. Jack let go of my face and slipped his hand around my neck as the fingers of the other hand dug into my fluffy breast.
“I’m going to come all over you. I’m going to drench those big fucking tits,” he warned and I shook my head in protest.
“Not yet, not yet,” I pleaded even as blackness threatened to take me, as the pleasure nearly overwhelmed me. Jack smiled, obviously enjoying how much I was enjoying him, and continued to hammer away at my slobbering tunnel. I was lightheaded and my body tingled but that pleasantness was shattered by a final climax that erupted from within and ravaged me. “Fuuuuck!” I shouted as the intolerable spasms took me. I could only sob as Jack let me feel the breadth of the orgasm before withdrawing and moving to straddle me. He took his massive member in his hand to stroke it as he grasped my jaw and caressed my lips with his thumb.
Suddenly, he erupted as I let his thumb slip into my mouth and sucked on it. His thick orgasm covered my breasts and face as Jack stroked himself and then let out a wild cry. One last surge landed between my big breasts and trickled down onto my throat. Then Jack slumped and let his cock rest between in my cleavage. I pushed them together and lovingly massaged his still hard shaft between my ample pillows.
“Oh my Lord! That was amazing!” I told the sexy biker between labored breaths. He grinned and took a deep breath himself.
“You’re so beautiful, Brandy,” he replied and I blushed, as much from his words as from the torrid sex.
“Hold me and make this perfect,” I told him. Jack climbed from me and gathered me into his arms. He reached down and undid the clasps holding one stocking and then bent my leg and pushed off my high heel. Then Jack tugged off my stocking and turned me over to face him.
“What are you doing?” I asked curiously. He didn’t answer but instead balled up the stocking and cleaned his orgasm from my face. I giggled and let him gently swab his amazing mess from my cheeks, then my neck and finally my breasts. When he was done, Jack kissed me and moved to toss the stocking away. I stopped him, took it and put it to my lips. As he watched, I sucked his glorious treat from my stocking.
“That’s sexy, just like you,” he told me. I finished, getting what I could from the stocking, and then tossed it aside.
“Why do I want to be so naughty with you? I’m a good girl,” I asked him wondering if he knew why he held such power over me.
“No, you’re a bad girl. All I did was give you an excuse,” he said. I looked back on the evening and I could hardly believe what I’d done. I wasn’t like this but maybe he was right. Maybe I was a bad girl and I just hadn’t found the right guy to bring it out of me. Maybe all I needed was an excuse. Whatever. I was swimming in a sea of bliss and the hows and whys just didn’t matter right then.
“You’re staying, right?” I asked.
“You bet your fat ass I am,” he told me. I giggled. I liked it when he said that though I wasn’t completely sure why. Shouldn’t a man calling my ass fat have been some sort of insult? In the moment, it was perfect though. He liked me for what I was and that felt nice. However, the light of day would surely change how I felt. Jack and I were different people and I knew nothing about him. But right then, I luxuriated in the aftermath of our dirty sex and reality was held at bay. If only we could have stopped time and stayed there forever.
>>O<<
I woke the next morning and found myself alone in my bed. However, I smelled what I was sure was French toast. I climbed out of bed and discovered I was still wearing one stocking. I guess I didn’t take it off before we climbed under the covers and fell asleep but the shoe was missing. I remembered what we did with the other stocking and the memory brought back the entirety of the previous night. My Lord, what had gotten into me?
I slipped the remaining stocking off and after looking about the room, tossed it on the floor with the rest of the clothes lying about. I dug a sleep shirt out of my dresser, suddenly feeling modest, and went out to see what Jack was doing in the kitchen. I found him in front of the range naked and making breakfast. The scene was a bit surreal. I had no doubt last night happened, but seeing the tattooed biker standing naked in my kitchen brought it all home.
“Morning,” I said. Jack turned and it was only then I noticed what he was wearing. I couldn’t help but laugh at him standing there in a frilly pink apron.
“Hey, it was this or risk getting burned,” he said.
“We wouldn’t want that but most of your clothes are right there,” I said pointing at the pile by the front door.
“I’m comfortable with my sexuality,” he told me and I laughed again but the carefree feeling of the previous night had disappeared as I slept.
“Have a seat. It’ll be a minute. I made coffee. How do you like it?” Jack offered. Well now. I suppose I could get used to this if it wasn’t for the feelings brewing inside of me.
“Um, there’s vanilla creamer in the fridge. Not too much,” I told him. Jack abandoned the French toast and made me a cup of coffee. He brought it to me and I thanked him. This was kind of nice. I’d never had a guy make breakfast and coffee before. I’d never had a guy satisfy me like Jack had the night before either. Too bad he wasn’t my type. I thought that as if I had a type in mind but I suppose I knew that whatever it was, Jack wasn’t it.
“Thanks,” I told him. I couldn’t help but stare at Jack’s butt as he worked. It was everything a girl dreamed of. Damn! Too bad he wasn’t the kind of guy I liked because I could have done last night all over again. I could do that every night. Whew! Coffee! Concentrate on the coffee. I turned and looked out the window over the city to get my mind off the biker I hardly knew and the feeling I had made a mistake. It wasn’t the best view, I couldn’t afford that, but it was nice enough. I liked watching the activity below and I could see Mount Charleston if I stood in the corner of my living room and craned my neck.
“Here you go,” Jack said setting a plate of French toast down in front of me. I was already wondering how to get him out of my apartment. Last night was fun but the way I let loose kind of scared me in the harsh light of day. Jack was a bad influence and I had a reputation to think about. Yeah, I might have worked for a somewhat sleazy defense attorney but I was still a lawyer and I didn’t plan on working for Vic forever. I couldn’t have a relationship with a man like Jack. I shouldn’t have done what I did either but I guess he was Vic’s client instead of mine, technically. In any case, what this biker might make me do next really scared me.
“Looks scrumptious,” I told him and tasted the French toast. It was good, better than I expected actually. Jack held his fork like a kid might, in his clenched fist instead of in his fingers. “So, what do you do for a living, Jack?” I asked to break the silence and be a good host.
“Dumpster diving,” he said. I wasn’t sure what to say to that. He was a bum?
“Like for food?” I asked cautiously. Maybe that’s why he was wolfing down the French toast like he hadn’t eaten in a week. It explained that rusty old bike too.
“What? No! I reclaim electronics, you know the gold contacts, some of the reusable parts,” Jack told me, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“Oh, sorry. What do you do exactly?” I asked still a bit confused but glad he wasn’t a vagrant or something.
“You’d be surprised at all the electronic gear businesses toss out. They all have gold contacts. I reclaim those and sell the gold. Well, I keep a little of it for my retirement. I also take out the parts that I can sell like hard drives, lamps from projectors. People think that when the whole unit doesn’t work, its parts are worthless. They’re not,” he told me. I’d never heard of that before but I guess it made sense.
“So that’s like your job?” I wondered.
“It pays the bills and little more. My real passion is vintage bikes. I buy and sell old bike parts. The dumpster diving lets me do that. It’s a lucrative business but not exactly steady income, you know,” Jack explained. I didn’t know but I pretended to.
“So you’re like a junk dealer,” I asked. I admit, it might have sounded a bit condescending but that’s what it sounded like to me.
“You’re kind of judgmental, aren’t you?” Jack asked me. I didn’t mean to be but what he did was kind of foreign to me.
“Huh? No! I’m not. I don’t care what you do,” I replied defensively. Jack grinned that self-satisfied grin and then chuckled.
“Whatever. I’m used to it. I like you anyway. So, I was thinking we could go for a ride today. It looks beautiful out there,” he said. Was he just kidding or did I offend him and he got over it. I guess it didn’t matter.
“I’m a...busy,” I told him.
“Well fuck that. How important can it be?” Jack pressed.
“I’ve got some work and stuff,” I told him. Jack frowned and got up to take his dish to the sink. He untied the apron and I got a good look at him. He really was that big. Damn! He walked past and began to get dressed. “What are you doing?” I asked. He was leaving, I was sure, and I guess that’s what I really wanted so I should have just let it be.
“Look, I told you yesterday. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. If you don’t want to hang with me, that’s fine but at least have the balls to tell me the truth, Brandy,” he replied as he slipped into his jeans and then began pulling on his socks and black boots.
“Jack, I really do...,” I began to lie again but he was right. If I didn’t want him to stay I should just tell him. “OK, look. You’re a nice enough guy but you’re not really my type. I had fun but that’s just not me. Sorry,” I said and waited to see his reaction.
“Good enough. It was fun,” was all he said. He finished tying his boots and slipped his vest on. He stood and checked his pockets for his wallet and keys and such. I couldn’t read him. Was he upset or was I just a one night stand? For some reason, either prospect bothered me.
“Look, I’ll take a cab back to the office to get my car and I’ll call you after the hearing to let you know how it went,” I told him. Jack nodded. Shit! Why didn’t he just tell me how he was feeling or something?
“Yeah, sounds good. It’s been fun, doll,” Jack said and walked out. I almost went after him. His nonchalant attitude made me think he was really upset and trying to hide it but maybe he really was that indifferent. Why that bothered me, however, I couldn’t say. I wanted him to leave, didn’t I? He wasn’t my type. He was trouble. Still, I felt bad. I didn’t want to hurt him. Then again, maybe I was just a night in the sack to him. Maybe I was just another one night stand.
The worst part of it was that either way I felt bad. I felt bad for possibly hurting him on one hand and I felt a bit used on the other. Why did I care? I didn’t promise him anything and I didn’t owe him anything either so if he got hurt, that was on him. And I enjoyed the sex so what did I care if I was just another notch in his bedpost. It wasn’t like I had guys built like Jack lining up to take me to bed. I should have been grateful, I suppose. Instead, I felt terrible.
And to top it all off, I didn’t have anything to do that day. It was all a lie. I heard a noise and looked out the window. I saw Jack tearing down the road below headed off to places unknown. Suddenly, I had a deep longing to be riding behind him. I hated that, didn’t I? It scared the bejesus out of me. I couldn’t help but think of the ride, hiding from the Metro officer, Jack punching that biker and dancing on the bar. I realized I was smiling despite myself as I reminisced. What the hell was wrong with me?
A year ago, I would have gone to my mom and talked to her but I couldn’t now. She and dad were RVing. They sold the house as soon as I graduated from college, bought a motorhome and left. I felt a bit abandoned for a while but I got over it. They worked hard raising me and my brother and deserved to enjoy their newfound freedom. I could have called her, I suppose, but what was I going to say? Mom, I fucked a sexy biker and now I’m confused? Help! Yeah, right.
I got up and did the dishes and then took a shower and threw on some shorts, a t-shirt and some hiking shoes. I stuffed some food and water into a backpack then called a friend to see if she wanted go on a hike with me. Maybe a long hike and some quality companionship would help pass the time and banish the previous evening from my mind. You know what? Fuck Jack Anker. I didn’t need to spend any more time worrying about him or how he felt. He was gone. Good riddance.
>>O<<
Trudy and I took a break along the trail after finding an old fallen log to sit on. We each pulled out water from our packs and each took a long drink. It wasn’t hot on Mount Charleston, but it wasn’t cool either and the water hit the spot. Trudy was a school teacher and my roommate in college for a couple of semesters. She was a perky red head with thick glasses, freckles and a plump, round body. She was also always swimming in men for some reason.
Trudy had always managed to make guys forget she wasn’t the prettiest girl in the room with her personality. She was flirty, a bit wild and not ashamed of telling a guy what she wanted or what she could do for him. Most importantly, she wasn’t afraid to actually do it either. She wasn’t ugly but she wasn’t a “10” either. That never stopped her though. I marveled at her ability to attract men and wished sometimes I had her confidence. I was usually, the previous night notwithstanding, a wallflower.
“So what’s been going on?” Trudy asked me after we caught our breath. I didn’t ask her to go with me to dish about my night with Jack. I pretended I wanted to forget him so I avoided all mention of him.
“This and that. Work, home, same ‘ol same ‘ol,” I told her vaguely. She nodded.
“Yeah, same here. Nothing too exciting,” she told me and then after a moment asked, “So what’s the matter?”
“Huh? Nothing’s the matter. Why?” I replied though I wondered if it was that obvious.
“Look, we’ve been friends for a while. You called me when your folks took off in that RV. You called me when that guy dumped you last year. You called me when you got your job and were so disappointed you didn’t find something better. Otherwise, I don’t hear from you much,” she said. Had I really done that?
“I...I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I did that,” I told her. I was sure I’d called Trudy just to hang out now and then but I couldn’t remember a single instance.
“No worries. I’m an empath. I get it all the time. People like to tell me their problems because I listen. Besides, you’re kind of quiet today. I can tell something’s wrong,” Trudy told me. I felt bad using her like that but she genuinely didn’t seem to mind.
“Well, I didn’t really want to talk about it,” I began but I was deceiving the both of us. Apparently, I wanted to tell someone about what happened with Jack because I told her everything. I had to stop once as I was detailing my tryst with Jack as a young family passed us as they walked along the trail. Trudy listened to the story but then she pressed me for details and to my surprise, I was all too eager to supply them. When I told her what had happened that morning, Jack walking out and leaving me feeling confused, Trudy smiled knowingly.
“Been there, done that,” Trudy told me and I looked at her skeptically. “You think you’re the only girl to fall for some slick bad boy?” she added.
“I didn’t fall for him. He’s not my type. I mean, last night was pretty...nice, I guess, but I didn’t fall for him,” I protested and a bit too strongly.
“C’mon, Brandy. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” Trudy said. I turned towards her suddenly.
“What did you just say?” I asked cutting Trudy off.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter? Never heard that?” she assumed incorrectly.
“No, I’ve heard it. Jack said that to me at least twice,” I told her. Trudy, far more experienced in affairs of the heart, or maybe the libido, smiled.
“So he’s not blind to it either,” Trudy replied.
“To what?” I asked feeling like I was the only one not in on the joke.
“You totally like him,” she said.
“No, I swear to you, I don’t. He’s crude and rude and abrasive. Jack’s trouble. I can’t see a guy like that?” I protested.
“Why not? He sounds like a dream. I’d beg him to slap me around and fuck me to tears,” Trudy told me excitedly. I was sorry I’d been so detailed in my description of the previous evening.
“Trudy!” I exclaimed.
“Please! Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that. You told me you did and I could see it in your eyes. What, you’re a lawyer so you can’t like a biker? Is that it?” Trudy asked.
“Well, yeah. I have a reputation to uphold. I’m an officer of the cou...,” I began to explain but Trudy stopped me.
“Oh, come on. And I’m a school teacher so I’m supposed to be chaste and virginal, right? Please! I’m downright normal around the school. The kindergarten teacher’s husband is her sex slave, one of the third grade teachers is a swinger and the vice-principle dresses up like a woman on the weekends and hangs out in gay bars. Because you’re a lawyer, you can’t have fun?” Trudy pressed. Was she joking or was that all true?
“Well, he’s a client,” I argued but the idea of her vice-principle dressing up like a girl wouldn’t get out of my head. “He’s really a crossdresser? He told you that?” I wondered and only partly to change the subject.
“Yeah, he confessed to me one night,” Trudy told me.
“One night?” I pressed.
“Yeah, we dated for a while,” Trudy told me. I felt my jaw fall open.
“And he...you know?” I asked. Trudy rolled her eyes.
“No! Yeah, of course he did. He’s cute as a woman and it gets him so excited,” Trudy told me and licked her teeth.
“OK, T.M.I.,” I complained but part of me was still curious. Trudy changed the subject back to Jack, however. My little diversion hadn’t worked.
“Enough about me. We’re talking about you. He’s a client? Please! You think your boss met his stripper wife at ice cream social? You’re just making shit up to avoid facing the fact you like him,” Trudy argued.
“OK, so maybe you’re right. But he’s not my type. I’m not into that,” I said.
“Into what?” Trudy asked.
“You know, the whole biker thing. We almost got arrested. That’s not me,” I explained.
“I think you’re laboring under the assumption that you have to act a certain way because that’s how you were raised or it’s what’s expected. You don’t, you know,” Trudy told me.
“No, I...but...well,” I tried to explain but the words wouldn’t come out. Trudy giggled.
“I was raised catholic. My mom and dad are still devout and while they love me, they’re not happy I’m not a good catholic girl. I don’t live to please them or anyone else. I’m not always as self-assured as I seem, but I made a decision a long time ago to not live to please other people. I’ve seen how miserable that can make a person. I live without fear of what other people think,” Trudy said and it sounded like she was speaking of someone specific but I didn’t pry. I was pretty sure that person wasn’t me but I could tell she thought I wasn’t as happy as I might be.
“I’m not miserable. I like my life. Working for Vic isn’t my dream job but it’s OK. I like my condo and I love living in Vegas. I’m not unhappy,” I countered.
“But are you happy? Not being unhappy isn’t the same. Don’t settle for OK. Don’t let some sense of normal hold you back. I promise you, there is no normal,” Trudy told me. That hit home. Was I happy? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t depressed but maybe Trudy had a point.
“So, say I’m not ridiculously happy. So what should I do about that?” I wondered.
“Do what makes you happy. Did you really get up on the bar and dance in your undies?” Trudy asked. I rolled my eyes and blushed.
“Yeah, I’m afraid I did,” I told her.
“Did you like that?” she asked pointedly. I thought about it. It was scary and bit unnerving but if I was being honest, it was fun. It was thrilling actually.
“Yeah,” was all I said.
“So, do more stuff like that,” Trudy said. Was it that easy? Just do what made you feel good? As I considered it, the question sounded so stupid. Maybe it was that easy. But then I had to ask the question even though I already knew the answer. I guess I just needed to hear it.
“What will people think?” I wondered.
“Do you really care?” Trudy asked. I knew she didn’t. Or maybe like she alluded, she made a point not to care even when her instincts told her otherwise. I guess it was a choice. “Look, I’m not saying you should go out, find a scruffy biker and marry him but if Jack made you feel good, be with Jack. If it doesn’t work out, so be it. If you like dancing half-naked on bar tops, do it. If people judge, fuck them!” Trudy said and it made me laugh.
I couldn’t deny that when we shared a dorm room I envied Trudy a bit. I wished I was more spontaneous, a little naughty like her sometimes. Hell, who was I kidding? I envied her more than a bit. I was confident enough in many areas of my life but I still worried how people might think of me. I was worried about how I might appear to other lawyers, to my parents and friends. Hell, I worried about how complete strangers might judge me. I wasn’t sure why, though. I guess I just wanted to fit in for some reason, for people to accept me. I guess I was afraid of being singled out. But as I considered that, I discovered it didn’t bring me a lot of joy. It just made things easier.
“You want to go out tonight?” I asked.
“I’d love to but I’ve got a date,” Trudy told me. Damn. I suddenly wanted a taste of Hogs and Heifers, a taste of my night with Jack. I sighed, disappointed but Trudy saved me. “It’s not really a date. I was going to meet Sarah, the crossdresser, for dinner and drinks,” Trudy said.
“What do you mean it’s not a date? I thought you were dating him...her,” I asked not sure what to call a man dressed up like woman.
“No, we only went out a few times, but we’re friends now. She’s cool. You want to go with us?” Trudy asked.
“Where?” I wondered but I don’t think I cared. Going out with Trudy and Sarah sounded fun. Suddenly, I wondered how many times I’d heard of something fun but didn’t do it. How many times had someone invited me to do something interesting or daring and I turned them down because I thought it wasn’t something people would agree with or I was sure it wasn’t for me. That was kind of sad.
“We we’re talking about just going out to a bar we like. Not really a gay bar but a bar that caters to all kinds, you know. It’ll be fun. You’re welcome to come along,” Trudy assured me. It sounded fun and a bit scary. It wasn’t me but suddenly I didn’t want to be me, or at least not the me I thought other people thought I should be.
“What should I wear?” I wondered, sure I was going now.
“Something hot. Wait till you see Sarah,” Trudy said excitedly.
“I want to go,” I told Trudy. She smiled.
“Cool!” she replied. We finished our water and off we went. I had butterflies but it was excitement as much as nerves. I wondered what was going to happen and discovered I hoped that whatever it was, it would be something nobody would ever expect me to do. Kind of like my night with Jack, I guess.
>>O<<
I got back home at around four that afternoon. Trudy took me to get my car after we finished our hike. I hopped into the shower as soon as I got home, excited about the upcoming night out with Trudy and her crossdressing friend. I meant to relax a bit after getting out of the shower before getting dressed as we weren’t going out until seven but I ended up dripping wet on my bed with my fingers buried between my creamy thighs. It felt so good but it wasn’t the physical sensations that made it special.
Talking with Trudy helped me see the previous evening in a different light, but it didn’t solve the Jack problem. I still couldn’t forget what we did and how he made me feel. Imagining Jack was with me and I was being his bad girl again drove me wild. I was doing things for him I’d only read about in those dirty books on my Kindle and immediately deleted so no one would know what I’d been reading. I felt a bit guilty for fantasizing about Jack like that, but I forced myself to ignore those feelings.
After a particularly wild orgasm, I stopped pleasuring myself and lay on my bed, still wet from the shower and breathing hard. Why wouldn’t I want another night with Jack? Who was I kidding? I loved the way he fucked me. I needed more of that. I wondered if he’d forgive me, assuming he was angry in the first place. I bet if I looked the part of the bad girl he brought out in me, he couldn’t resist. I got up and went to my closet and found something to wear that he might like. I wasn’t seeing him, but I wanted to dress up like I was. Once I found what I wanted, I finished getting ready.
“Girl, you look hot!” I said as I looked myself over in my mirror. Leather boots with spiked heels, fishnet stockings and a black lace garter belt, a way too short black skirt left over from a Halloween costume and to top it all off I found an old baby doll t-shirt that had “Princess” emblazoned across my boobs in rhinestones. I guess I wore my clothes tighter in college because that thing left little to the imagination. I also began to wonder if I didn’t have some kind of stocking fetish. I had like fifty pairs. Maybe that was the bad girl expressing herself.
For a moment, I almost took it all off. But something about this felt...I don’t know...right, I guess. I felt sexy and hot and excited. I felt alive. Then I had an idea. I left my dark hair down and I’d applied my makeup fairly heavy but I needed something else. I rummaged through my dresser and finally found what I was looking for. A black satin choker that had come with some outfit or another and I thought looked stupid. But now, it tied this whole outfit together and looked perfect. It made me look a bit naughty and a whole lot submissive.
I was having fun. I felt a bit wicked and I liked it. I’d seen girls dressed like this and wished I could too but I always told myself that it wasn’t me. That was always my excuse. It wasn’t me. I wasn’t that type of girl or whatever. But it was me and I was just afraid to admit it. I was afraid of what others might think if I strayed from the straight and narrow course. But deviating from the norm was sort of liberating. I grabbed my hand bag and left to meet Trudy and Sarah, excited to see where this might lead.
We met for dinner at a little Thai place in a strip mall. I was stunned when I met Sarah. She, as both women informed me was the proper way to refer to a crossdresser, was stunning. A bit tall and broad in the shoulders but Sarah wasn’t the man in a dress I’d imagined. I couldn’t help wondering what was under her slinky dress after Trudy told me they had slept together. The idea blew my mind, especially seeing how incredibly sexy she looked. Did that make them lesbians or what? I wasn’t sure.
Sarah had a on a tight red dress and pantyhose with matching heels. She had no issue explaining to Trudy and I all the tricks she used to look as good as she did while we ate. Her long, straight honey-blonde hair wasn’t hers and neither were those lush eyelashes or the round breasts, but you couldn’t really tell. Her voice was husky but feminine enough and kind of sexy too. She had a Kathleen Turner sound to her. Her long red nails gave her hands a feminine look as well. I wondered how many men checked out the tall crossdresser and had no idea they were really looking at a man. The idea was sort of amusing.
Trudy, on the other hand, was in black lace leggings and a cute green tunic that showed of her ample cleavage and matched her eyes. She wore black platform pumps but she still barely stood five-foot seven and Sarah dwarfed Trudy in her own heels. Once again, I couldn’t help but imagine Trudy and Sarah having sex. I forced myself to stop because it was kind of erotic. Sarah, however, didn’t seem ashamed of her crossdressing in the least.
“Damn, I’ve got to go to the ladies room. My dick is all bent and twisted in these pantyhose. The things I do to look this good,” Sarah joked and excused herself. I had to go to the restroom too and joined her. Trudy stayed behind at the table to watch our stuff. “So, you don’t seem too shocked,” Sarah said as we entered the ladies room.
“Trudy told me about you. Honestly, you look great. I’d never have known you were a...,” I said and stopped unsure of what I should say. Sarah looked at me and smiled.
“Don’t worry about it, Brandy. I’m a guy most of the time. I have a dick. You won’t offend me,” she said and then as an afterthought looked under the stalls to make sure we were alone. We were. If we weren’t some poor woman would be getting an earful.
“Sorry, I’ve never met a girl like you,” I said and Sarah hiked up her dress and shoved her hand into her pantyhose and bent her legs awkwardly a she adjusted herself. I looked away and found a stall to do my business. She kept talking as I did.
“I’m glad I don’t scare you. A lot of people just don’t get it, you know. They think I’m a weirdo, and I guess I am. But I’m just being true to me. This makes me happy. I’ve got a girl inside of me and she needs to get out and have some fun too. I was miserable before I embraced Sarah. Trudy is my savoir,” Sarah told me.
“Trudy?” I wondered from my stall.
“Yeah, she was the first person I told my secret to. We were dating and she dragged it out of me. She really helped me be OK with Sarah. In fact, she helped me pick out my name,” Sarah explained. I got it now. Sarah was the miserable person Trudy spoke of on our hike. I wondered how she knew. She said she was an empath. I assumed she wasn’t reading minds but Trudy did seem to have a knack for guessing how people felt and helping them work through it. She had done so for Sarah and she’d done it for me too on numerous occasions.
“I didn’t know that. Trudy’s a good friend that way,” I replied.
“Yeah, she is,” Sarah agreed. I emerged and washed my hands before checking my outfit in the mirror as Sarah did the same. She turned towards me and asked, “Can you see a bulge?” I giggled and looked her over.
“Nope, you look good,” I replied finding the whole scene a bit surreal.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to party,” Sarah said. I nodded.
“Me too,” I told her and I meant it. I wanted to go out with Sarah, the sexy crossdresser, and Trudy, the cute empath, apparently, and get into some trouble. We left the restroom and settled up with Trudy who had paid the bill. We left in a cab for The Kurtain Kall, a trendy club just off the Vegas Strip. We’d all taken cabs to the restaurant because it was likely we’d all be taking them back home later. That was the plan anyway.
As advertised, The Kurtain Kall catered to all kinds. There were rockers, gays, lesbians, hipsters, clubbers, ravers, you name it. Sarah wasn’t the only crossdresser either. Some were far more flamboyant, however, and I’m pretty sure some weren’t simply transvestites. Everyone fit in and at the same time, nobody did. It was an eclectic mix of people, a melting pot of lifestyles and cliques. We ordered drinks but we didn’t bother trying to find a seat. There weren’t any open tables or stools at the bar. There was room, though not much, on the dance floor and that’s where we ended up.
Trudy, Sarah and I danced together to the pounding dance music. We made quite the strange trio but who cared? We weren’t the strangest group of partiers in the place. Next to us a guy danced with two women, his hands all over both of them and all three of them wore wedding rings. There were couples of all types beyond that threesome, gay men, lesbians, straight people and more. You couldn’t help but wonder what went on behind closed doors as you looked around the crowd and I wondered which of the women in the threesome was stepping out on her husband and if he knew it or not.
We danced and drank and soon I was feeling a bit tipsy. I was having the time of my life, however. This was so much fun, just dancing, drinking and people watching. Then out of the blue, Trudy and Sarah began dancing together. Their hands roamed one another’s body and then Sarah bent and kissed Trudy deeply. I couldn’t help but stare at the display. Sarah caught me looking and broke the kiss and let Trudy go. “You’re turn, sexy,” she said and came my way.
I giggled despite myself as Sarah danced her way towards me, her hips swaying and a prominent bulge now showing in her dress. She slipped her hands around my waist and pulled me close staring into my eyes. Her bulge rubbed against me as we danced and then she kissed me. I was shocked and went stiff but I relaxed after a moment. “Go, Brandy!” Trudy shouted and I laughed breaking the kiss with Sarah. Sarah laughed too and I could tell she was just having a bit of fun, playing around.
“Your dick is showing,” I teased. Sarah looked down.
“Little fucker escaped,” she exclaimed and we all laughed at that but Sarah didn’t make any attempt to rectify the situation. Sarah and I danced a while longer and then Trudy joined us. As surprising as Sarah’s kiss was, it was fun. It was sexual but in a casual, friendly way. No pressure, no expectations, just playing around for the sake of playing around. I found I liked letting go and just doing what felt good. Yeah, I wondered what people might think if they knew I was kissing a man in a dress but I also discovered not caring made me feel good. Hell, it felt awesome! The song changed and this one was even faster and the three of us joined the crowd, jumping up and down and getting a bit crazy.
Then the DJ spoke over the music, “Don’t forget the wet t-shirt contest at ten. Ladies can win $500. Come see me to sign up.” Trudy and Sarah immediately looked at me.
“Oh no! I’m not getting up there,” I said wagging my finger at them but I already knew I’d do it if they pressed the issue.
“You danced half-naked on the bar at Hogs and Heifers,” Trudy reminded me. Sarah looked from Trudy to me and back again. I could tell that surprised her a bit.
“I’m sorry I ever told you that,” I said and scowled playfully at Trudy.
“Really? C’mon do it, Brandy. Show us your tits,” Sarah said. I rolled my eyes and tried to think of a reason not to do it.
“Brandy, you’ve got to do it. Come on. You’re boobs are fantastic. Not like my floppy tits,” Trudy said and I laughed as she grabbed herself. I had to admit, my boobs were rather perky for being so big and full.
“And these I bought at Amazon,” Sarah said and grabbed her own. All of us laughed at that.
“I hate you both,” I said but Trudy and Sarah were already leading me to the DJ to sign up.
“OK, hang out here and we’ll call you up in a minute,” he told us. Again, I had butterflies but they were a mix of nervousness and excitement. A minute later, a woman grabbed me, took me aside and handed me a white t-shirt. It was cheap, thin and two sizes too small.
“You can change back there,” she told me and pointed to a door behind the DJ booth. I went back there and several other girls went with me as well. Some of them seemed to have done this before. They immediately began removing shirts, tops and even dresses and pulling the thin, gauzy white t-shirts over their mostly thin torsos. Two other girls, obviously first-timers too, and I followed suit. I could barely pull my t-shirt over my breasts and when I did, it was nearly see-thru stretched over my big breasts.
Before I had the chance to reconsider my decision, the woman that handed me the t-shirt called us out onto the makeshift stage near the DJ booth. We followed her and lined up before the crowd. Trudy and Sarah were right in front cheering me on. I glared at them but they seemed to be enjoying my discomfort. I was second to last in a line of seven women. Some were thin and athletic with perky, natural boobs. Others were like human Barbie dolls with tits as fake as the dolls they looked like. The balance of the victims...I mean competitors, were pretty women with average boobs just having a good time.
But I, and a by quite a wide margin, had the largest breasts of the group. If big was the point, I would probably win but I suspected one of those Barbie dolls or the fit, workout queen with the perky B cups and the pencil eraser nipples would be more popular with the crowd. I was also the biggest girl on stage but I tried not to let that bother me.
“All right, Ginger. Let’s get these ladies wet,” the DJ called out and the woman that led us on stage began dousing cheap t-shirt-covered breasts in water and by the sound of the squeals and screams, it was ice water. She finally got to me but had barely two inches of water in her pitcher. She looked at me and then the pitcher. She gave the crowd and exaggerated frown, shrugged her shoulders and signaled to someone else to bring more. The crowd laughed and cheered. Lovely. Two perky girls walked over to help her out, each with a pitcher in hand.
The girls took up positions on each side and poured one pitcher of ice water over each of my boobs. I shrieked as the girls, obviously following a carefully crafted script rendered my already nearly see-through shirt all but invisible. My nipples immediately shrank and became painfully hard and I was left shivering as the girls bounded off stage. Bitches!
The DJ began the show, giving each girl a chance to introduce herself and then show off her assets to the crowd. I watched when I wasn’t glaring at Trudy and Sarah but they seemed to take delight in my dilemma. Each girl shouted out her name and then felt herself up or shook her breasts for the crowd who in turn cheered wildly. Then the woman who had led us on stage, Ginger apparently, put the microphone in front of me and winked. She‘d done this a thousand times before and was lending me a bit of courage. I sighed and did my duty.
“I’m Brandy,” I told the crowd and they cheered encouraging me to show off my boobs. Trudy and Sarah joined them.
“C’mon, Brandy. Shake those tits!” Trudy shouted. I couldn’t help but laugh but instead of shaking them, I lifted one breast to my mouth and sucked my nipple through the thin cotton fabric and then squeezed them both and licked my lips. That got a reaction from the crowd and my companions laughed and high-fived each other, proud of their work.
“I hate you!” I mouthed at them bringing even more laughter from my companions. The show moved along and soon we were being judged for the finals. The crowd cheered for each of us in turn as the DJ judged the relative volume of the cheers for each girl. When it was over, he called my name along with the workout queen and one of the Barbie dolls. I was in the finals. I moved over next to the other girls, each perfect in her own way and tried hard not to judge myself in their presence.
“OK, girls. This is winner takes all. Five hundred dollars is on the line. Show us what you’ve got!” The DJ announced and Ginger doused us all again with water that felt even colder than the first time if that was possible. The Barbie doll was sure she had it in the bag and simply felt herself up almost as if she was bored by the proceedings and just wanted her money. The workout queen was in nothing but panties and the t-shirt and she danced seductively for the crowd and boy could that girl move. I tried to figure out a way to top them but I ended up just shaking my hips and rubbing my nipples.
It was obvious I wasn’t going to win against those other girls despite the size of my breasts. I did my part, however, until Trudy leaned over and whispered something into Sarah’s ear. Sarah looked up at me mischievously and nodded in agreement to some plan they were hatching. They both turned towards the crowd and in Trudy’s boisterous voice and Sarah’s suddenly deep, booming voice, they began to chant, “Skin to win! Skin to win! Skin to win!”
Soon, the patrons near them had taken up the chant and it spread throughout the crowd like wildfire. Fists pumped in the air as the entire crowd chanted. Sarah and Trudy turned, still chanting and nodded at me. I looked at the other girls. The work out queen was shaking her head. She wasn’t willing to revel any more than she had despite her absolutely perfect body. The Barbie doll obviously didn’t think she had to show her boobs to win. She always got by on her looks, I could tell.
I looked back at my friends and they were nodding even more vigorously. I wanted to. I could use five hundred bucks and I’d have loved to show those two skinny girls a big girl like me could be just as sexy and alluring. Then suddenly, I thought about Jack and what he’d said about me. He loved my big, curvy body and my fat ass. He thought I was sexy as hell. I wondered how many men out in the crowd did too. It was a bit ironic that Jack became my motivation to win this damned contest and show those skinny bitches who was boss.
I reached up, took the flimsy t-shirt in my hands and tore it to shreds, revealing my big boobs to the crowd. They went absolutely nuts. The workout queen lifted her t-shirt to tease the crowd but she couldn’t do it. She was too self-conscience. The Barbie doll barely paid any attention, sure she could whip the fat girl with her fake tits and tiny waistline. Then the crowd’s chant changed as I began sucking my nipple again. That did it. Now instead of, “Skin to win,” they chanted, “Six, six, six!” That was my number.
Sarah and Trudy hugged and joined the crowd in calling out my number as they jumped up and down. I played with my big breasts and danced for the crowd as they shouted my number in unison. I’d never felt so good in my life. I’d never felt so alive. “Looks like the people have spoken,” the DJ announced and Ginger hopped on stage and shooed the Barbie doll and the workout queen off leaving me all alone. The workout queen congratulated me as she left and I saw a bit of envy in her eyes, almost as if she wished she had my courage. If she only knew. The Barbie doll scowled at me and I couldn’t help blowing her a kiss, to which she huffed and rolled her eyes.
Sarah and Trudy crawled up on stage to join me. Each took one of my breasts, lifted it and sucked on my nipple bringing a wild cheer from the crowd. “OK, ladies! There’s laws in this town, you know,” the DJ announced jokingly. Trudy and Sarah stopped as I laughed.
“You’re both in so much trouble,” I said as Ginger handed me a wad of twenty dollar bills. The lights that illuminated the makeshift stage went dark and the crowd went back to dancing and drinking, my moment of glory soon forgotten by my fickle fans. My time in the spot light was brief but despite my reluctance to get up there at all, I’d had the time of my life. I felt like I could do anything right then.
“Oh, I agree. We’re bad girls, Brandy. Make us drink and dance until we pass out,” Sarah said.
“Oh yeah, buy us drinks. That’ll show us,” Trudy added. I shook my head and rolled my eyes as I left them standing there to go get dressed again.
“You’re both terrible people,” I said jokingly and threw a twenty on the floor. “Get me a shot of Jack Daniels...no two shots,” I ordered as I went. The girls eagerly retrieved the money and did as I asked. I smiled to myself. I thought the previous night was crazy but this was off the hook. I was turning into a seriously wild bitch and I kind of liked it.
>>O<<
It was noon when I finally dragged myself out of bed Sunday morning. What a night. Two crazy nights in a row had me wondering what had gotten into me. The wet t-shirt contest was just the beginning but it was definitely the craziest part of night, or was it? I suddenly remembered what happened at Trudy’s house after we blew half the five hundred dollars buying drinks for cute guys as well as ourselves.
An hour or so after I’d won, we left the club and hit a gay bar. That was fun but uneventful for the most part. All I could think about was I’d never have guessed two good-looking guys kissing could be so arousing. Then it was off to Trudy’s house where she broke out the coconut rum and some pot. Yeah, I remembered now. Did I really smoke weed?
“Come on, Brandy. It’s harmless,” Trudy prodded me after she produced a bag of gray-green leaves and a pipe.
“I can’t do that? Go ahead,” I told her but Sarah wasn’t going to let it lie.
“Brandy, live a little,” she said and then Trudy handed Sarah the pipe and she lit it up and took a hit. Sarah held it in and then exhaled a puff of bluish smoke. “Oh, yeah!” she said, apparently enjoying the feeling it produced and handed the pipe and lighter to me.
“Don’t you two work for the school district?” I asked.
“I work there, but I’m not their property. Besides, the union negotiated random drug testing out of our contract,” Sarah said. I guess that made sense. Like Trudy said, just because she was a school teacher didn’t mean she had to be innocent and chaste.
“Yeah, what I do after hours is my business,” Trudy added. I looked at them both and snatched the pipe from Sarah. I did as she had and ended up hacking up a lung as I inhaled. Sarah and Trudy laughed but I tried again and the second time it was easier. I coughed a bit but managed to hold the pungent smoke in my lungs. “Good shit,” I managed to say and then we all laughed hysterically. Things deteriorated quickly from there.
It was all a bit fuzzy but I seemed to remember that Sarah ended up without her dress at one point and then I remembered Trudy gave her a hand job. My Lord! It all came back to me. Sarah was hung, not like Jack but for a guy who wears dresses, she was bigger than I’d imagined. I remember hitting the pipe pretty hard as Trudy stroked Sarah to a messy orgasm and feeling a bit wicked watching it all like some dude in a trench coat at the peep shows near Vic’s office. We all giggled when Sarah climaxed, oh hell, we giggled at everything last night.
What had gotten into me? I’d never done as much crazy shit as I’d done in the last forty-eight hours in my entire life much less all of it in one weekend. As I made coffee and tried to assimilate my memories, I wondered why suddenly, I was so adventurous. Maybe that’s how it happened. One day the good girl lost her mind and over compensated for years of repression. But that didn’t sound right. No, I knew what it was.
This all started when I met Jack. He’d talked me into going out and in retrospect I wasn’t sure why I did it. I wasn’t sure why I did any of it. Did Trudy’s pep talk during our hike provide the spark? No, because I went with Jack to Hogs and Heifers before that. I submitted to his advances and slept with him before I’d even thought to call Trudy. In fact, that was why I called her.
No, it was Jack. Trudy’s advice helped me see that but it was the night with her and Sarah that now made it all clear. I’d even said it to Jack. He made me want to be bad. He told me he’d bring out the bad girl and he did on Friday night and despite my reaction on Saturday morning, the bad girl was loose. Pandora’s Box had been opened and I couldn’t close it again. That was my theory anyway.
Maybe it wasn’t all that complicated or convoluted. Maybe I just had fun and wanted to have more. Maybe I did something out of the ordinary, out of my comfort zone and I liked it. I did like it. Sex with Jack was unlike anything I’d ever done. Participating in that wet t-shirt contest was so not me but winning it was so much fun. Getting high with Sarah and Trudy made me feel like I was getting away with something and maybe I was. But seeing Trudy pleasure Sarah, well that was just perverse, but in a good way.
But the common thread throughout all of it was that I loved every minute of it, the morning after sleeping with Jack being the lone exception. Being bad was kind of...good. I wanted to do it again. Not right away, however. My head was pounding and spinning despite my internal excitement. After the coffee failed to cure the hangover, I needed a nap. But the Jack problem loomed. Was he mad at me? Did I hurt him? I almost couldn’t believe that. He didn’t seem the type of man to get hurt that easily. It was more likely he had a good time in the sack and when I didn’t want more, he simply moved on. I guess guys could do that but women, well, we didn’t have it so easy.
But I did want more. More of all of it. I wanted to be bad. I wanted to do things that people would never think I would ever do, things that would shock people. Most of all, however, I wanted to get Jack back in my bed again. I wanted him more than anyone to show me how to be even naughtier. I wanted to show Jack Anker, just how bad I could be.
But my hangover needed attention and work needed to be done. Vic was in Hawaii with his ex-stripper of a wife, probably fucking like rabbits and having the time of their lives. I had to take care of the law office in the meantime. Jack’s preliminary hearing was the only court date on the schedule, but I had clients to meet with, briefs to write and I’d been thinking that maybe I could do something about the disorderly mess that was taking over the office.
Jack would have to wait but maybe that was a good thing. Some perspective couldn’t hurt. Maybe by the middle of the week, I’d decide this past weekend was just a fluke and not for me. Maybe the thrill would tarnish a bit and I’d come to my senses. Maybe I’d decide that I didn’t want to take the sexy biker to bed or go out with Trudy and Sarah again or be a bad girl. Well, it was possible, I suppose, but it didn’t seem likely.
I slept off the rest of my hangover that afternoon and then turned in early that night. As I lay there in bed, naked and touching myself, I suddenly had a thought. I stopped lazily stroking my bare mound and there it was. I felt different. I was still me but I was...I don’t know, more me. Maybe the real me was finally showing. Whatever it was, it felt good. Maybe a bit frightening but good nevertheless. I fell asleep with that thought swimming in my head.
>>O<<
“Yes!” I shouted a bit too loudly and pumped my fist as I walked out of the courthouse. Judge Sullivan dismissed the case against Jack without any trouble. The officer didn’t show up and the prosecutor couldn’t show any probable cause for the search that would satisfy the judge. Jack’s appearance just wasn’t grounds for a search of his bike and Judge Sullivan even scolded the prosecutor for wasting her time with such a case.
I knew I’d win. The prosecutors often pressed sketchy charges hoping for a plea deal so when they ran for Mayor or Governor they could show voters how tough on crime they supposedly were. They called it looking out for the innocent citizens. I called it harassing them. So did the judge, apparently. That’s why I loved the law. It could be used to harass people but in most cases it worked the way it should. Good thing to. Now, Jack wasn’t a client anymore and he wasn’t going to have to plea out or go to trial. He was all mine.
If he’d have me, that is. For all I knew, he had already found another girl on Saturday night. Maybe I had hurt him or he just wrote me off. Maybe I was already too late. I guess I was going to find out. I walked back to the office, it was only a few blocks from the new courthouse, and dug Jack’s file out of my briefcase. I promised I’d call him and let him know what happened. I found his number and dialed.
“Yeah?” he answered and my stomach was full of those damned butterflies again.
“Jack? This is Brandy,” I replied.
“Oh. So what happened,” he asked. I didn’t let the fact he didn’t ask me how I was or anything bother me. His freedom was potentially in the balance after all.
“The judge dismissed the case. No probable cause. Congratulations,” I replied. No need to drag something like that out, I figured.
“Fantastic. Well, thanks. Later,” he said but I jumped in before he could hang up.
“Jack, I want to talk to you about Saturday morning,” I said. He exhaled as if I was bothering him.
“Get it off your chest,” he replied. I took a deep breath before I began to tell him what I’d been rehearsing since Sunday.
“I want to apologize for what I said. I don’t know if I hurt you or what but I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. It was just...well, I was scared I guess,” I said.
“So, I scare you?” he asked.
“No! Well, yes. Honestly, you did. I just wasn’t used to being with a guy like you and I did things I usually wouldn’t. Look, I enjoyed it. I just didn’t know how to deal with my feelings. Then you talked about what you did and I freaked out and made assumptions. I’m sorry,” I explained.
“I appreciate that. Is that it?” he replied. Maybe I didn’t hurt him. Maybe I was just a one night stand and he really didn’t care. But I swallowed my pride and tried not to think that way. Even if he didn’t want to see me again, I wanted to see him. I wanted to give him another chance, or maybe I wanted him to give me another chance.
“No, I...I want to see you again, Jack. If you want, that is,” I told him but he didn’t reply right away. There was nothing but just silence for a moment. Then Jack finally spoke.
“Yeah, you sure about that?” he asked. I didn’t expect that question. Was I sure? Did I know what I was getting into with Jack? He might not have been a criminal but he wasn’t what most people would call an upstanding citizen. He dove into dumpsters but he did it to make a living, an honest living. He had a passion that he pursued. He was a bit rough around the edges, OK a lot rough, but he was a good guy, wasn’t he?
I guess I didn’t really know. I was pining after a guy I’d met less than a week ago and spent one night with. Was I really sure I wanted to start something with this guy? Yeah, I was. I barely knew him but I knew how he made me feel. Maybe he and I wouldn’t last more than one more night. That was fine but I needed to try. I needed to know. I needed a redo with Jack.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Can I see you again?” I asked him.
“Hogs and Heifers, Saturday night, be there,” he said and the line went dead. I hung up and for a moment, I was confused by his reaction. Maybe it was a test of sorts. Maybe he didn’t believe I’d really show or that I’d show up and decide I was wrong. Well, if Jack Anker was testing me that was a test I was going to pass. I had nothing to prove to Jack but I did have something to prove to myself. I was going to find out once and for all if my new adventuresome side was here to stay or not.
>>O<<
I called Trudy the next day and asked if she’d help me out. I needed to wear something that would catch Jack’s attention and show him I was serious. “Sorry, Brandy. I can’t get out of it,” she assured me. She had a family thing on Saturday and couldn’t go shopping with me. It’s not like she was some expert in biker fashion but she couldn’t know any less than I did.
“Damn, I guess I’ll go alone,” I told her. I could have called another friend but I wasn’t prepared to explain my sudden need for leather and fishnet and go through all that.
“Call Sarah. She’s more a of a mall diva than me anyway,” Trudy suggested.
“Yeah?” I asked. Take a crossdresser shopping? That seemed a bit strange but then again life was strange suddenly. Besides, she did look pretty fantastic.
“She’s the most girly-girl I know. You should see her closet. If you need to impress this guy, she’ll help,” Trudy told me. What the hell?
“OK, I’ll give her a try,” I said.
“No, worries, she’s right here,” Trudy said. OK, that was weird.
“Hey, Brandy, what’s up?” Sarah asked after Trudy handed her the phone. I told her what I needed and she was eager to help out. We set up a time and place to meet Saturday morning.
“Thanks,” I told her before I hung up.
“We’re going to have a ball, girl,” Sarah said and hung up. I wondered why she was at Trudy’s house. I decided it was none of my business but I couldn’t help but let my mind consider the possibilities. I’m sure it was totally innocent, right? There weren’t like doing it or anything. Why was the idea so arousing though?
The rest of the week went fast. I made a dent in the office mess but it would take me many more days to get the place straightened up completely, not to mention a storage unit to put some of it in. I met with some clients, both new ones and some Vic had been representing for a long time. I knew some of them weren’t exactly innocent but Vic kept them out of prison, most of the time. None of them hurt anyone. Even Vic wouldn’t represent violent people if he knew they were guilty.
Saturday, arrived and I woke up with the small flock of butterflies that had been breeding since Tuesday suddenly throwing a rave in my stomach. It was a pleasant feeling for the most part, a dull eagerness to see where things would go later with Jack. After getting ready, I met Sarah at the bagel shop near the Fashion Show Mall on the Strip. I felt a bit underdressed.
I’d worn a comfortable pair of leggings and a blouse, assuming I’d be in and out of dressing rooms and outfits all day. Sarah was in a black strapless dress with a pleated skirt and a boned top. Her blonde wig had been replaced with a jet black pageboy wig and her legs were incased in expensive black pantyhose. Black ankle boots with four-inch heels topped off her outfit.
“Uh, is that what you always wear shopping?” I asked as we met. She hugged me before we went to the counter to order.
“I only get to spend the weekends as Sarah. I don’t waste my time with frumpy clothes,” she said. I looked at my outfit and back at Sarah. “Oh, don’t feel bad. I dress comfortably as a man but I get my fill of drab sweats and t-shirts on weekdays. On the weekends, it’s Sarah’s time and she’s a diva,” Sarah told me and we giggled together. The woman in front of us in line looked back over her shoulder and smiled pleasantly but it was clear Sarah was freaking her out.
“Yes, honey, I’m a man,” Sarah told her and the woman frowned and turned around again. I giggled at that and Sarah smiled. We ordered bagels and coffee, ate while Sarah quizzed me about what exactly I was looking for and then we went to the mall. She assured me she had the perfect outfit in mind after I filled in the details, including Jack’s penchant for stockings as well as my own.
Fredrick’s was our first stop. Even five years ago, I couldn’t find anything in places like that but anymore it seemed they had embraced us bigger girls. Sarah complained they still didn’t always accommodate the taller girl, by which she meant crossdressers. We found what she was looking for, lace top black stockings and a faux leather garter belt.
“God, I wish I could wear these out,” she told me.
“Why can’t you?” I wondered. Sarah glanced down towards her crotch. “Oh, yeah,” I replied.
“Mrs. Winky needs more than some flimsy panties to stay out of site. Don’t worry, I indulge my love of stockings in the bedroom,” she said and winked at me. I blushed despite myself and she laughed at me. “You’re so cute, Brandy,” she told me before we checked out. That’s all we needed from a lingerie shop. Sarah convinced me that panties would only get in the way if my plan was to seduce the sexy biker and that after the wet t-shirt contest she was sure that putting my breasts in a bra was sacrilege.
We were done by one and I had what I was sure Jack would love in the bags I carried to the place we choose for lunch. I was excited to try it all on at once and even more excited to show it to Jack. “God, I hope this is the right thing to do,” I said after we ordered.
“Why?” Sarah asked. She knew me as the crazy girl who liked showing her tits. She didn’t really know I wasn’t really like that normally.
“I’d never done anything like that wet t-shirt contest or smoking pot or screwing a guy I hardly know,” I confessed. Sarah looked at me funny.
“I know. Trudy told me. I used to be like you until I met Trudy. I was a closet crossdresser. I longed to go out and be the real me but I was so scared of what everyone would say, of getting caught or outed in public or someone thinking I was gay. When Trudy caught me dressed up, I thought I would die. But she was so cool about it. She suggested I should go out if that’s what I wanted. Long story short, she really helped me to live without fear, without worry,” Sarah told me.
“She kind of said the same to me. She’s always been fearless, you know. Or she acts that way,” I replied.
“She’s not acting. Neither am I anymore. I just don’t give a crap and I’m so happy. I thought doing this would be a constant battle with my feelings and fears but it’s not. I’m so not afraid anymore. If people want to think I’m gay or a sissy or whatever...,” she said and paused for effect, “They’d be right!” Sarah winked at me and we both laughed but I knew just what she meant. She was who she was and she could either deny it or embrace it. I was in the same boat, I suppose.
“Are you gay?” I asked curiously.
“I like guys when I’m Sarah. I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t blown a guy or twelve in a parking lot at a gay bar dressed up like this. Am I gay? It’s just a label. I’m just me and if dressing like a girl and sucking the occasional guy off makes be gay, so be it. Look, Brandy, you need to be who you are. If you’re a bad girl, biker bitch deep inside, you’ll know. Embrace it. Be fearless, girl. Go get that man, be all you can be and all that shit,” she told me. I laughed as the waitress brought our sandwiches. Fearless, I liked that. We ate changing the conversation to lighter fare then paid and left. I had another appointment that afternoon at the salon so I said my goodbyes to Sarah and thanked her.
“You’re so welcome. I hope it works out with the biker. If not, give him my number,” she said and winked at me.
“We need to do this again,” I told her. She agreed and hugged me.
“Maybe, I’ll have you and that biker over to the house. Trudy too,” she offered.
“I’d like that. I don’t know about Jack, but maybe,” I told her. She gave me that look as if she knew what I meant. Jack might be fine with hanging out with a crossdresser but he probably wouldn’t be. Then again, who knew?
“We’ll see. Call me and let me know how it goes, OK,” Sarah said. I promised and we hugged again then went our separate ways. I wasn’t sure but I think Sarah and I were becoming friends. I kind of liked that. She was sweet and though I knew she was a man under all those clothes, makeup and wigs, I didn’t care. I considered her as a woman, I’d never seen her as anything else, and I liked her no matter what.
After my trip to the salon, I went home to relax before I headed out to meet Jack. Nerves gave way to anticipation. I could feel it in my core, the desire to be his again, feel him inside of me, to submit to him. I remembered his chiseled body covered in ink and his broad, hard shaft, that scruffy but sexy beard, the way he called me doll and his piercing gray eyes. Whoa, girl! Settle down.
I got up and went about getting ready. I trusted Sarah’s taste but I wasn’t entirely sure I could pull it off. The outfit wasn’t classic biker. No leather vest, no tight blue jeans and no black boots but Sarah assured me I’d look fantastic. I hoped so. I showered and fixed my hair, admiring the new shock of pink they added to my almost black hair at the salon. I considered a temporary color but I decided to just go for it. I left my hair straight but pulled it behind my ears.
In my ears, I wore dangling silver crucifixes. I did my eye makeup heavy and dark, applied dark plum lipstick that matched my nails after the pedicure and manicure and then put on the leather collar Sarah insisted on. It was kind of sexy, I had to admit. Then I went to put on the stockings, garter belt and then finally the dress. It was red with a faint snakeskin texture. The top was stretchy and skin tight with a low cut back and front that showed off my cleavage and long sleeves that went to my wrists.
The bottom was made of the same material but the skirt was pleated and hung loose. It left little to the imagination, including my stocking tops and garters. The fact Sarah demanded I forego panties made the short and loose skirt a bit...thrilling actually. I admired myself after slipping on the red platform heels with the wide ankle strap held about my leg with little brass padlocks. I looked like a hooker, a whore. Perfect!
Jack didn’t give me a time to meet him so I guessed about seven. It was close enough when I called a cab and met it down stairs in front of my building. The driver, an older Asian man, looked me up and down and smiled broadly. His eyes kept drifting to my reflection in the rearview mirror. I didn’t mind. It was kind of flattering. Besides, he weighed like a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. I could take him if he got fresh.
He dropped me off at the biker bar near downtown Vegas. I paid him and gave him a generous tip then turned to look for Jack’s bike. I would have thought his ratty bike would have stood out but I realized that a fair number of bikes looked like his, drab, rusty and faded. Maybe old school bikes were in now but I couldn’t fathom why. I searched in the evening light and then I felt someone behind me. I turned, expecting to see Jack but came face to face with the same drunken biker Jack punched the last time I was here.
“Where’s your old man?” he asked as his hands moved to touch me. I backed away.
“He’s inside. Get away from me,” I replied. He wasn’t listening.
“You’re going to pay for last week, bitch,” he said. He pulled a knife out of his leather Jacket. Oh shit! I could have screamed but the music pouring from Hogs and Heifers was loud and the cab dropped me at the end of the street. “Yeah, your old man thinks he’s pretty tough but he’s not here, is he?” the drunken biker said. Suddenly, my back was against the wall. The biker staggered towards me and began groping me with his free hand and held the knife menacingly. I had to do something.
“He’s not here but you are. How about I suck your dick and we play nice?” I said. I wasn’t in the mood for this loser’s bullshit. He looked at me and smiled revealing his missing front teeth. He folded the knife sure I was going to give him a good time. His guard was down and that’s when I balled up my fist and punched him square in the face.
“Aw, fuck! You broke my nose you fat whore,” he exclaimed. I walked up to him as blood was pouring through his hands as he held his face and put my knee in his crotch. The biker howled in pain and tumbled to the sidewalk.
“I might be a fat whore, but I’m not your fat whore. Fucking loser! Is that all you got?” I challenged him and then turned to walk away. I immediately saw Jack leaning against a street lamp as he began to clap his hands slowly in approval. “Get a nice show?” I asked slightly perturbed. Was he going to just watch me get raped or what?
“I would have stepped in but something told me you didn’t need my help. That was impressive and he didn’t even bleed on you,” Jack said and I glared at him but when he shot me that devilish grin, I smiled. I was shaking, however, as the adrenaline pumped through my veins. I looked back and could hardly believe what I’d done. The scuzzy biker was still lying there, moaning and but holding his nose with one hand and his crotch with the other.
“I’ve never done anything like that. I need a drink,” I said. Jack chuckled softy as he pushed himself off the lamp post, turned and offered me his arm.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he joked as I took his arm and we headed to the bar. “You look hot, by the way,” he said as we walked.
“Yeah? So do you,” I replied grateful for something to take my mind off what I’d done. He didn’t look much different than the last time I saw him. He wore a black t-shirt instead of the leather vest and a red bandana around his head, but other than that it was the same blue jeans and leather boots, the same shoulder length golden hair and scruffy beard, the same penetrating gray eyes.
“You’re bleeding,” he said. I looked down and sure enough, my knuckle was cut but it wasn’t bad.
“I’ll probably live,” I said. We reached the bar and pushed our way inside. Hogs and Heifers was probably even more crowded than the last Friday night. A different band was playing, a thrash metal band, but the music was just as loud. We found our way to the bar to get drinks.
“Whiskey?” Jack asked.
“Of course,” I said playfully and Jack looked at me curiously. The rush of my encounter with the biker was wearing off and I felt a bit woozy. It would pass and a shot or two wouldn’t hurt. “A beer too,” I added. Jack turned and nodded. I looked around the place as he ordered. I hadn’t noticed all the stuff behind the bar the last time. I guess I was a little overwhelmed. Hundreds of bras hung from the ceiling above the bar and all manner of hats, stickers, signs and patches decorated the wall behind the bottles of liquor. Then I saw my skirt hanging there amongst the bras. I felt rather proud of that.
“My skirt,” I told Jack when he passed me a shot. Another biker let Jack have his stool and Jack invited me to sit on his knee. I was more than happy to accept sitting with my back to him. He slipped his arm around my waist and rested his hand on my stocking-clad leg. I smelled the whiskey and then tipped it back and relished the burning sensation as it slipped down my throat. Then I let the tiny bit left in the glass drip onto my bloody knuckle. Who knows where that dirty biker had been?
“Yep, that was quite a night. Too bad you ruined it the next morning,” Jack said. I looked back and frowned but Jack was frowning as well.
“I won’t ruin tomorrow morning, I swear,” I said. Jack’s hand slipped under my skirt and he caressed my bare mound.
“So, does that mean I’m your type suddenly?” he asked pointedly taking the fact he found me naked under the skirt in stride. That’s what I’d told him. He wasn’t my type. Hell, I didn’t have a type but if I did it would be Jack. I had no idea where this would go, but sitting there with him in that biker bar, I knew that’s where I wanted to be. Screw what everyone thought or expected of me.
“You’ll do for now,” I told him playfully. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a full on change of heart. I grabbed the other shot and slammed it. I let it linger on my tongue, enjoying the smoky burn and then swallowed.
“That’s all I can ask, I suppose. But while you’re tolerating me, I’m going to watch you ride my cock tonight after I fuck your pretty mouth,” he said. A tingle shot through my loins and I stood up and turned to face Jack, straddling his thigh. I squeezed his shaft through his jeans. Oh, that cock of his. Yeah, maybe it was shallow of me but he was big and I liked it. Jack leaned forward and kissed me. I savored his warm lips and his rough beard against my face until he broke the kiss. I exhaled and bit my lip, swooning from his kiss, as we stared into each other’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, Jack. You scared me. I wasn’t ready for the feelings you produced. I wanted to be so bad for you and I just didn’t know how to handle that. I worried about what people might think. You forgive me, right?” I told him. He frowned again.
“So, what changed your mind?” he wondered. Where to start? My transformation was fairly sudden but not entirely uneventful.
“That’s a long story,” I replied.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. It was so loud though. I had to almost yell just so he could hear me.
“Dance with me then take me home and I’ll tell you,” I told him leaving the important part unsaid, you know, the part where we had sex. We stood up and he led me to the front of the stage where he slipped his arms around my waist. We slowly swayed to our own rhythm despite the grinding rock music the band pumped out. “So, is it a good story?” he asked. I laughed and smiled being coy and then lay my head on his shoulder. Jack’s hands found my ass and he kneaded my soft flesh as we danced.
We stayed through a few songs but it wasn’t long before I wanted to go. Sure Hogs and Heifers could be fun but that’s not the kind of fun I was interested in. Jack’s arms around me felt so good, so right. I still barely knew the man but there was something about him. He might have been a bad boy, a rogue, a biker, but he was a good guy in the ways that mattered. I could feel it when he held me and see it in his eyes when he stared into mine.
But I wondered what he would think of my new friend, Sarah. Would Jack accept her? I accepted Sarah for who she was without a second thought. Of course, I was curious about her and her lifestyle but I never judged. I’m not some amazingly tolerant soul, though I like to think I am accepting of others, I just saw the person beneath Sarah’s makeup and wig and I liked that person. But would Jack? I suspected he would even though most people wouldn’t suspect a biker like Jack would be so open-minded.
“Can we go?” I asked. Jack grinned down at me knowingly.
“I’ve wanted to get you alone since I saw you take down the biker outside, doll,” he told me. I liked that he called me doll again. I realized how much I missed it. It was a term of endearment filled with a bit of old fashioned sexism and a lot of feeling. I liked it.
“I took a cab so I’ll have to ride with you,” I told him, strangely looking forward to another frightening ride on Jack’s old school rat bike.
“I figured you’d end up riding bitch so I got you something,” Jack told me.
“Riding what?” I asked. Jack looked at me, not sure what I meant at first but then he understood. Even though I didn’t know what he was talking about, I didn’t miss the gesture. Maybe he was hoping this would all work out as much as I did.
“That’s what they call riding on the back of a bike,” he explained.
“Oh, that makes sense...I guess. What if you’re a man?” I wondered. Riding bitch. I kind of liked that for some reason.
“Men don’t ride on the back, or shouldn’t anyway,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. I wondered about Sarah. Would it be acceptable if she rode on the back? I didn’t ask that of Jack, however.
“What did you get me,” I asked instead but I should have been able to figure it out. Jack offered me his arm and I slipped mine into his as he led me through the crowd and outside. We walked down the sidewalk, then crossed the street and found his bike. He pulled his helmet out of one saddlebag and then pulled my new helmet out of the other.
“Oh, it’s cute,” I said. Jack screwed up his face at my assessment. “Oh, it’s...um...bad ass,” I corrected and Jack chuckled. It was a helmet like his, a half-helmet, but instead of being all black, mine had a pink, Hello Kitty skull and crossbones on it. It was cute but in a bad ass sort of way...or something.
“I saw it and thought of you. You’re cute and kind of wicked,” he said. Then suddenly, Jack grabbed me, pulled me to him and kissed me. I absolutely melted in his arms as his tongue explored my mouth and his hands roamed my backside like he owned me. Then he broke our kiss leaving me weak and tingly all over and then took my helmet and put it on my head helping me fasten the strap under my chin. “We don’t want your pretty head getting smashed,” he said and winked.
“No, we don’t,” I replied as Jack let me go, donned his own helmet, then climbed on his bike and fired it up. He rolled the throttle back and his old school bike roared and rumbled shaking the pavement beneath my heels. I smiled and climbed on behind Jack. My arms slid around his broad torso and then I whispered, “Scare the hell out me, Jack.”
He looked back and grinned wickedly a moment before we roared off. I squealed despite myself as Jack roared to the end of the street, turned around, flew past Hogs and Heifers and then turned the wrong way. I didn’t ask where we were going, as if I could have if I’d wanted to. The rush of the wind and the rumble of the bike made that nearly impossible. We were near the interchange between the two major freeways in Las Vegas. I assumed Jack was taking the freeway back to my condo but he went the wrong way again when we got to the freeway.
I just let him take me wherever it was he wanted. I didn’t care. On the freeway now, Jack really opened up the throttle and we flew down the freeway at what I guessed was ninety miles an hour but was probably more like seventy. We weaved around cars as we went and I squeezed Jack tighter. He was doing what I’d asked. I was scared out of my wits but having a ball. Kind of like a roller coaster, thrilling and frightening at the same time but I could actually die on this ride. Jack stared straight ahead, focusing on the road ahead. Then after several miles, we took an off ramp and stopped at a red light at the cross street.
“Like that?” he turned and asked.
“Uh...yeah,” I replied as my heart pounded and I felt the adrenaline in my veins again. “Where are we going?” I asked, too curious not to ask now.
“My place,” Jack told me as the light turned green and off we went. We only went a block or so and then turned into a trailer park. I felt the feeling again, the same feeling I had when Jack told me he dived into dumpsters and collected junk, but I pushed it aside. So what if he lived in a trailer park? We rode down the narrow lane between single wide mobile homes and old travel trailers that had been converted to permanent homes. Then I saw what I instantly knew was Jack’s place.
We pulled into a narrow drive and parked next to an old trailer, an Airstream. I knew this because my parents were RVers. Airstream trailers were coveted among some RV aficionados, vintage trailers that people loved to restore to their former shining glory. In front of that, an old, red 1950s pickup was parked. Both were immaculate, the Airstream’s bare aluminum sides polished smooth and bright, the truck looking like it just rolled off the assembly line save for the low stance and fat tires. Astroturf covered the asphalt pad under the trailer’s red and white striped awning with two Adirondack chairs alongside a small table under it. There was even a pink, plastic flamingo and a small flag pole complete with an American flag lit from below.
“Home sweet home, doll,” Jack said as he shut his bike down and rest it on the kickstand. Then he climbed off and helped me off as well. He led me to the door on the side of the trailer, unlocked it and ushered me in as he opened the door. It was dark but as Jack followed me up the steps, he flipped several switches and the trailer came to life.
“Oh my Lord!” I exclaimed. I should have expected what I saw. It wasn’t anything like my parents’ motorhome but it was just as nice. On the near end was a big broad sofa, for lack of a better term, upholstered in worn, brown leather and adorned with soft fabric pillow but it was as big as a full-size bed. It looked perfect for lounging around on a lazy day. The walls were dark wood and brushed metal, the floor worn wooden planks. The kitchen area was lifted right out of some 1950s dream home. The counter was shaped like an “L” and at the end were two old stools like you might find in an old diner, black leather with chrome legs.
“Like?” Jack asked. I turned and nodded.
“You built this, didn’t you?” I asked.
“I pulled this old trailer out of a junk yard in Arizona and most of this stuff is scavenged from somewhere or another. The floor used to be barn in central Nevada. I restored it all,” he told me. I think that’s when I got it. Jack’s bike wasn’t a piece of junk; it was a piece of art. This trailer and everything in it was vintage, old, forgotten junk that Jack turned into beautiful, functional art. I understood what he did for a living suddenly and why.
“It’s beautiful. Does it have a bedroom?” I asked. My parents’ motorhome did and even though the trailer wasn’t as large as their behemoth, it wasn’t tiny either.
“I was just going to show you. I can wait to hear your story later,” he said as he took my hand and led me past the kitchen area through a short corridor and into his bedroom. Here, the wood floor gave way to soft shag carpet. The fifties feel of the living area gave way to a sixties free love vibe. The light wood paneled walls were covered in old rock concert posters. The bed sported a simple white bedspread and colorful throw pillows. Jack hit some more switches and the rest of the trailer went dark while the bright lights illuminating the bedroom were replaced with purple blacklights causing some of the posters to begin to glow.
“Ooh, I like that,” I said as I turned to face Jack.
“I like you,” he said as his hand found the hem of my dress and he began to pull it up. I let him, raising my arms so he could get it off. He pulled it from my arms and then tossed it into the corner of the small bedroom leaving me standing there in only my garter belt, lace top stockings and red heels locked about my ankles. Then Jack’s big hands slid over my shoulders and around my neck. He kissed me deeply for a moment but then he pushed me down forcing me onto my knees as he took off his t-shirt.
I knew what he wanted but he told me anyway, “Suck it, doll. Suck my cock.” I smiled up and then turned my attention to his blue jeans. I was all too happy to let Jack order me to do what he wanted. I was probably going to do it anyway. I unbuckled his belt, then unbuttoned his jeans and slid the zipper down slowly. But I left Jack like that as I caressed his denim-covered legs and ass. The thick ridge behind his boxers swelled. Oh my Lord, he was so big. I ran my hand over his tortured length, teasing him. Jack growled softly and he grew even larger as I grasped his jeans and suddenly yanked them down to his knees.
Jack chuckled as he watched me play. I softly traced his fat shaft through the thin cotton of his boxers as Jack shed his t-shirt. That caused Jack’s cock to jump. I teased and played for several moments before I yanked Jack’s boxers down to where his jeans rested. His manhood swelled even further as it came to attention and turned to iron before my eyes. I reached up and caressed his soft sheath. Jack exhaled as my soft hands met his velvet encased steel rod.
“Fuck!” he hissed as I more firmly stroked his broad shaft.
“You want to fuck my mouth, Rogue?” I asked seductively using his road name. His once silly nickname was growing on me.
“More than anything, doll,” he said breathlessly.
“Not yet,” I teased and pushed Jack’s shaft against his flat, rippled stomach and ran my tongue up between his balls to his swollen crown and back again. I made the trip once more, but this time with my lips, kissing his hard cock as I went. Jack shivered in anticipation and I loved the power I had to please him. Once back at his base, I took one of his jewels into my mouth and sucked on it hard. Jack groaned and I looked up into his eyes and traded that one for the other and sucked on it too.
I found it to be quite intoxicating, serving this tall, sexy biker. Giving him pleasure gave me a deep satisfaction. I let go of his shaft and slid my hands around his hips digging my dark nails into his hard behind as I took Jack’s crown into my mouth. I sucked and swirled my tongue around his purple head for a moment and then pulled him in deeper with my hands. I slid my dark lips up and down his shaft and then pulled him in even deeper. Soon Jack was bumping against the back of my mouth.
“Swallow it, you sexy whore,” Jack urged me. He was getting rather excited and my pussy ached for him but I could wait a bit longer. I inhaled deeply and then I pulled Jack’s entire length into my mouth and made him disappear as my lips kissed his torso. I held him there, deep in my throat, fighting the urge to expel him. “Fuck! You look sexy with my cock in your throat,” Jack said breathlessly as I stared into his eyes and then I let him go. I took his shaft in my hand as I fondled his soft sack with the other and sucked him for all I was worth.
See, I must’ve been a bad girl all along because I taught myself to do that with a banana back in high school but Jack was the first man to ever warrant me trying the real thing. I never took my eyes from his as I pleased him with my mouth as well as my hands, driving Jack towards the edge but keeping him from going too close. Jack reached down, grabbed handfuls of my dark hair and he took control. I let him, as my hands fell to my breasts and I pinched my nipples and kneaded my heavy pillows. Jack did as he promised, fucking my mouth hard and fast, using me to obtain his own pleasure. However, I was surprised at how much pleasure I found in letting Jack have his way.
I let Jack set the pace, just a plaything in his hands. He stared down at me, his teeth clenched, as he buried himself in my mouth. I slipped a hand between my legs and rubbed myself as Jack held himself there deep in my throat beyond the point I thought I could stand. I forced myself, however, to let Jack do as he wanted and the thrill was undeniable. Then suddenly, Jack pulled from my mouth. I gagged but I’d never been so turned on in my life. Saliva coating Jack’s big cock and tendrils still hung between it and my lips.
Without a word, he lifted me to my feet and tossed me roughly onto the bed. I landed on my back and watched Jack pull off his boots and slip out of his jeans. As he finished, Jack pushed my legs into the air, he knelt between my thighs and went about devouring me. His tongue, lips and teeth teased, tormented and tugged at my naked pussy. I squealed in delight as Jack roughly ate my sopping sex. His hands roamed the deep valleys and round hills of my body, kneading my flesh and drawing forth goose bumps in his wake. I felt a wild urge build within me and then Jack sucked my swollen nub into his mouth and slid two fingers into my honey hole.
I arched and screamed, wondering if this trailer would contain my cries and deciding I didn’t care. A wildfire spread from my core, consuming me in its wake and leaving behind a warm glow. Jack ravished me with a hearty enthusiasm as his fingers found that special place inside. He firmly massaged me from within as his teeth held my hot button and his tongue tickled it. I sat up and watched Jack do his work but as another climax took me, I flopped back onto the bed and desperately dug my fingers into the bedspread. A wild bolt of delicious lighting surged up my spine and throughout my body. I tensed and shuddered as the pleasure ravaged me. Finally, I surrendered control and I shrieked like I’d gone insane.
“Fuck me, Rogue!” I demanded but Jack ignored me. The biker continued performing magic between my creamy thighs. I sat up and ordered again, “Fuck me!” Jack ignored me once again and I felt another climax build but that’s not what I wanted. I wanted to come all over his magnificent manhood. I wanted him inside of me.
I placed my palm on his forehead and pushed his head back and growled, “Goddammit, fuck me!” Jack grinned and pushed my hand aside and dove back between my legs. What the...? Then I remembered his prediction. After he fucked my mouth he wanted to watch me ride him. Fine, I guess that’s what I was going to do as if I was going to complain or something. I slid out from under Jack but he grabbed my thighs and wouldn’t let me go. I pushed his head back again and playfully slapped his face.
“Get your biker ass up in this bed so I can fuck you,” I demanded. Jack laughed and hopped up and did as I asked finally. I shook my head as he did and then slapped his ass as hard as I could as he crawled past. I don’t think it hurt him a bit but my hand tingled with pain. He flopped on his back and his thick, wet, throbbing cock stood ready for me. I straddled him just like I climbed onto his bike and bent to kiss him.
“That was amazing but when I tell you to fuck me, you’d better fuck me. Got that?” I playfully admonished him and tugged his beard. Jack grinned at me but as I slid down his long, broad shaft his eyes rolled back in his head and he exhaled deeply. I did too as Jack filled me to the brim. Damn, that felt as good as I remembered. I put my hands on Jack’s broad chest and began bouncing on his fat shaft, working my lush body for Jack’s pleasure as well as mine. His hands grasped my hips and his fingers dug into my succulent skin.
“My Lord, that feels good!” I exclaimed as I built up a head of steam. This wasn’t going to last very long because I wasn’t going to slow down for anything, but it was going to be good.
“And you look amazing,” Jack told me. I smiled at that as an orgasm took me.
I sighed and whimpered as it coursed through me, “Oh, fuck! Yes. Yes! Yes!!” My body shuddered each time my forgiving behind met Jack’s unrelenting body, my breasts jiggled seductively as I went nuts on Jack’s cock. I reached between my legs and rubbed my swollen clit as Jack’s hands massaged my ass. Oh my Lord, this was crazy, absolutely hedonistic and utterly mind-blowing.
“Ride me, Brandy. Ride that big cock. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” Jack asked and I could only nod in agreement as I sobbed in complete delight. Then his hand hit my ass leaving it burning in pain. I shrieked but the sensation pushed me into overdrive.
“I’m a bad girl. A naughty slut, a wild bitch and your sexy fucking whore,” I told Jack as much for his benefit as mine. Then I hauled off and slapped him across the face. His devilish grin turned into an evil smile and I knew I’d just awakened the beast. He seized my throat and squeezed as he spanked me again and again leaving my ass glowing red. I lost my fucking mind, wailing and screaming as pleasure blotted out all else. I rode Jack with complete abandon as I rubbed my sensitive button. Jack left my burning ass alone and began slapping my big breasts and then pinched and twisted my nipples until I shrieked in blissful pain.
“C’mon, doll! Come for me. Come all over my big dick!” Jack ordered. I already was, the intense climaxes coming one after another. But Jack had plans for me I didn’t foresee. He let go of my neck and he took my jaw in his big hand and his finger slipped into my mouth. I sucked it greedily, indulging my long-suppressed and dirty desires. Then Jack took his finger from me and his hands disappeared behind my back. He spread my ass wide and that finger found my pink, rosy hole and he buried it inside.
I arched as the wondrous sensation of that finger mixed with the joy his cock gave me. I collapsed forward and wrapped my hands around Jack’s neck and held on for all I was worth. I could barely comprehend the overwhelming spasms. My breath caught in my throat as I struggled to express the emotions that coursed through me and then I simply cried out and began to sob. Jack would not relent, however. He continued to give me what I needed as I wailed against his neck and kissed him desperately.
“Damn, that’s beautiful,” he whispered. As I cried and released the pent up tension, I claimed some control of myself. I raised my head and took Jack’s face in my hands, staring into his eyes.
“Please come all over my face,” I begged him and then weakly slapped him again. Jack grinned warmly but that warmth was replaced with mischief and suddenly, I found myself on my back as Jack hammered into me as he held me tight. I exploded, every nerve, every fiber of my being, erupting in sheer ecstasy. I screamed as my body went stiff and my fingers found the bedspread again, digging in as I hoped to cling to something real as the ecstasy had its way with me. Then Jack withdrew as I literally saw stars and a moment later he knelt next to me.
I grabbed him and tugged, desperate for his hot treasure. Then suddenly, Jack gushed forth, his searing and generous orgasm pumping from his beautiful manhood all over my face. He made me a hot mess. I gathered his thick orgasm on my fingers and licked them clean as Jack finally expelled the last of his warmth. I found myself giggling as I continued to treat myself to slippery fingers covered in Jack’s thick, gooey orgasm.
Jack’s chest heaved as he relaxed. I turned and sucked his crown, coaxing even more of his salty-sweet treat onto my tongue. He laughed softly as he watched and then pulled free and moved towards my feet. He found the locks holding my red pumps in place. “Where’s the key?” he asked.
“I left it at home,” I told him. Jack frowned for a moment but then he nodded. He reached down and found his jeans and pulled something free. It was a multi-tool and he opened it revealing pliers but apparently they had some kind of cutting surface as well.
“Very resourceful, MacGyver,” I teased. Jack cut one lock and then the other, removed my shoes and set them and the tool aside. Then he undid my garters and peeled my stockings down my legs and off. Just like he did the last time we were together, Jack lay next to me and cleaned the mess he’d made from my face. Once I was cleaned up, he kissed me. I stroked his face as he cupped my breasts. I savored his warm lips and tongue for a moment and then pushed him away.
“Don’t you like your own flavor?” I asked playfully. Jack cocked an eyebrow and then brought my soaked stocking to his mouth and sucked the treat from it. I broke out laughing at that. “You’re a sicko!” I teased but then I pushed the stocking aside and kissed Jack, getting another taste. I don’t know why, but that was sexy as hell and more than a bit kinky. I lay back and waited for Jack to hold me but instead he got up and went to his small closet and pulled out a black t-shirt and I watched in confusion. He tossed it at me.
“It’s early. Sleep’s overrated. It’s warm and you own me a story. Put that on and meet me out in the front yard. I’ll get us some beers,” he said and retrieved his own t-shirt and then found some cargo shorts and put them on as he went to the living room. I did as he asked and went to join him. The t-shirt came half-way to my knees so I was covered well enough to sit outdoors in the dark though I really didn’t care. Jack was waiting on one of his chairs, two beers on the small table along with a cigar and lighter.
I sat in the other chair, grabbed my beer and took a sip as Jack lit up his cigar. It was dark but it was hardly ever really dark in Vegas. The street lights cast a pleasant glow and I was surprised at how quiet it was there. The soft hum of tires on concrete coming from the nearby freeway provided a white noise that drowned out most of the other sounds. This wasn’t where you’d expect to find an oasis in the city, but here it was.
“So, doll, I’ve got plenty of beer. I want to hear what changed your mind,” Jack said. I took a deep breath as I pondered where to begin. I guess the beginning was as good a place as any. I told Jack about my hike with Trudy and what she had told me about living to please others instead of myself. I told Jack how that made me think but that my talk with Trudy was just the beginning.
Then I told him about the night out with Trudy and her friend Sarah. I left out the fact Sarah was a crossdresser, unsure how Jack might react. I explained the wet t-shirt contest and what I’d done to win it from those other girls. Then I revealed what we did after, going to Trudy’s place and getting high but I’d painted myself into a corner. I couldn’t reveal the entire story without explaining Sarah to Jack.
“Um...Sarah, she’s not a normal girl. She’s a crossdresser,” I began. Jack nodded. He barely reacted to any of it, nodding now and then and raising his eyebrows once or twice but that’s all he gave me. I couldn’t read him. I told him about how Sarah became Sarah with Trudy’s help and their previous relationship. Then I revealed that I’d watched Trudy give Sarah a hand job, though it was all a bit fuzzy due to the marijuana. Jack simply nodded.
I continued, relating the rest of the story as Jack listened but gave me no hint of what he was thinking. The change in my attitude, my decision to live to please myself and forget about what others might think. I explained how Sarah and I seemed to be developing a friendship after going shopping earlier that day and how I really liked her, not despite the fact she was really a guy but in part because of it. That’s where he came in.
“So that’s it. I was just kind of afraid what people might think if they knew I liked you. I guess I thought they might judge me. Talking about it with Trudy helped but meeting Sarah and seeing how she lived her life really hit home,” I said. Jack nodded again and puffed on his cigar as he turned to look at me. I wasn’t sure what to expect.
“I don’t know. That’s quite a tale. You’re kind of scaring me and I’m just not sure you’re my type,” he said with a perfectly straight face. He was in range, however, so I reached over and punched him.
“Ha ha ha. Very funny!” I said and Jack laughed at his little joke. I couldn’t help but join him though. I took another sip of beer and found it was my last. I shook the bottle, Jack took it from me and got up to go fetch two more. He was gone a moment and I knew when he came back I had to ask about Sarah. I needed to know how he felt for some reason. I don’t know why but I felt like if he couldn’t accept her, then we weren’t meant to be.
It shouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t as if dating Jack and being friends with Sarah had anything meaningful in common. I could have relationships with both no matter how each felt about the other but I didn’t want that. I needed Jack to accept her. I needed to know he was what I hoped. His lifestyle and his home made me think that he was but I needed to know for sure. Jack sat back down and handed me one of the beers but before I could ask Jack, he answered without me having to.
“Your friends sound cool. I’d like to meet them,” he said.
“Really?” I asked a bit surprised and Jack picked up on that.
“Yeah, why?” he wondered.
“I thought...well, I...,” I began to say but without much success before Jack smiled and jumped in.
“Look, I can’t live the way I do and not accept others for who they are. I’m used to being judged, even by you,” he said and I nodded accepting the truth. “I’m a scruffy, outlaw, dumpster-diving biker. Who am I to judge? I live the way that makes me happy. Sounds like your friend Sarah’s found what makes her happy. Good for her,” Jack said and I suddenly had a big smile I couldn’t shake.
“Thank you,” I said.
“No need. So, I have a question. Did I pass the test?” he asked. I was surprised at that.
“What test?” I asked innocently. I guess I was testing him but I was testing myself too.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” Jack replied. I laughed at that.
“Yeah, you passed. I passed the test too,” I said and then Jack really surprised me.
“I like you a lot, Brandy. You’re...fearless,” he said. Oh my Lord. That’s what Sarah told me too. Be fearless. What the hell was with everyone quoting each other?
“Do you know Sarah or something, she used that word too. Fearless,” I asked rhetorically but Jack answered anyway.
“Yeah, she’s my brother,” Jack said straight as can be leaving no doubt he was serious. I choked on the beer I was trying to swallow but as soon as I saw the grin on Jack’s face, I knew he was screwing with me.
“You’re an idiot. She’d be your sister anyway...I think,” I said and we both laughed at my confusion.
“So, I assume your cool being my old lady?” he asked but it was a statement of sorts. Old lady? I knew that meant I’d be his girlfriend. Yeah, I was more than cool with that.
“If you don’t mind being my old man, I could be your old lady,” I replied. Jack put his hand out, palm up and held it there. I looked at it, then at him and took his hand in mine.
“Good! I need a decent lawyer,” he said and squeezed my hand. I smiled and took a sip of beer as Jack puffed on his cigar. I guess we were dating and I couldn’t have been happier. No reservations and no worries. If people didn’t like it, fuck ‘em. I was Jack’s old lady and I was proud that he was my old man.
>>O<<
Jack took us to get some burgers and fries after a bit. We took his truck so I didn’t have to get dressed for real. After we ate them back at his trailer sitting at the bar on those old stools, we cuddled up on his big leather sofa daybed thing and watched a movie. I slept over and we made love again that morning. OK, we fucked like bikers. Making love is for normal people. In any case, when I finally made it home the next afternoon, I was on cloud nine. I had to tell someone and there was really only one someone I wanted to tell.
“I’m so happy for you, Brandy,” Sarah exclaimed when I told her all about my night with Jack.
“Thanks. It’s partially you’re doing,” I told her.
“Meh, you would have figured it out on your own,” she replied.
“Um... can I ask you something, Sarah?” I replied.
“Yeah, sure,” she replied. I know what I wanted to ask but I wasn’t sure how to ask it. I wasn’t sure it wouldn’t sound stupid. But I had to be fearless.
“I like you a lot, Sarah. I know you’re a crossdresser and all but we can be like girlfriends, right?” I asked and it did sound kind of stupid. Sarah didn’t say a word for a moment and I wondered if I might have said something wrong.
“Really? You mean that?” she asked and her voice was a bit shaky.
“Yeah, I do,” I told her.
“I’d love to be your BFF, Brandy,” she replied. Now I was getting emotional too.
“Cool!” I replied but I had another question. “What’s your name? You know your dude name?” I asked. Again Sarah hesitated.
“Why?” she asked in return and I could hear that she was hesitant.
“If we’re going to be friends I just thought...,” I began to say but she interrupted.
You’d better just call me Sarah,” she said and I thought I’d offended her or something for a moment until she added, “It’s Jack. I mean it’s really John after my dad but everyone calls me Jack so there’s less confusion.”
“No shit?” I asked her.
“No shit. Besides, I want to be Sarah with you, you know. I don’t mind you meeting the male me but I don’t want to be him with you. I want to be your girlfriend, OK,” she explained.
“OK, but if I want to hang out on a Wednesday night, you might have to get all made up and put on something pretty,” I teased.
“Promise?” she replied and we both laughed. We talked for a while about Jack and stuff and agreed to get together soon and go shopping or something. I felt like everything was clear suddenly. I had Jack and now I had a best friend. This was so cool. Better yet, I didn’t feel like I was struggling to fit in or make everyone else happy. I was just being me, doing what felt good and right, what I wanted and I loved it.
The next morning, I went into work and Vic was already in his office back from his vacation. I’d had quite a week while he was gone and I looked it. The pink streak was still in my hair and instead of my usual skirt suit, white blouse and conservative heels, I wore something that I liked instead of what I thought I should wear. I wore a short leather skirt, a red blouse and matching heels. Underneath, it was all black lace including the garter belt that held my sheer black stockings with the seam up the back tight against my shapely legs.
“Morning, Vic,” I said as I stood in his door.
“Place looks nice. Thanks for cleaning...,” he began to say until he looked up and saw me. “You look...different, Brandy,” he told me as he looked me up and down with obviously inappropriate thoughts running through his head.
“Do I?” I replied being coy appreciating his wandering eyes.
“Yeah. So how’d everything go with Jack Anker?” he asked after shaking his head and forcing himself to look me in the eye.
“I got him off. I got him off good,” I replied and giggled to myself. Vic couldn’t figure out what that was all about but I enjoyed my little turn of phrase immensely.
“Uh...good. Anything else happen?” he wondered.
“Nope. Pretty uneventful week,” I told him but it was anything but. I was Jack’s old lady and my new best friend was a crossdresser. I’d danced on the bar half-naked at Hogs and Heifers, won a wet t-shirt contest and smoked pot. I’d found my inner bad girl and let a dumpster-diving biker have his way with her. Best of all, that fearless, curvy vixen was here to stay.
“Right,” was all Vic said. He knew something was up but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what.
“How was Hawaii? You and Lacey have a good time?” I asked changing the subject. Vic’s expression changed.
“Yeah, it was a good vacation,” he replied.
“Well, how about I make us some coffee and you can tell me all about all the juicy details before we get to work,” I offered.
“Yeah, OK. You know, whatever happened to you, Brandy, I like it,” Vic told me. I smiled as he handed me his empty coffee cup.
“So do I,” I replied and went to go get us some coffee.
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