Captive Ride (11 page)

“I’m ready,” I tell Easy.

“I know you are.” His voice is different, strained with the effort of holding back. I push back as he had told me to do when the plug was first inserted and we both groan loud as the tight ring of my muscles sucks him in. “Christ, you are tight. So fucking tight.”

I can barely make out his words. The sensations are so intense, so bright, so real. He plunges the final distance.

“Now,” I hear him order and then the two begin an act of perfect synchronicity, driving into me and withdrawing in rhythmic bliss. I’m so full of
man
that the wiring in my brain short circuits and all I can do is ride wave after wave of fantastic feeling. I hear roars of satisfaction in full surround sound as their pleasure infiltrates all my senses. Inside me, I feel the hot splashes of their orgasms and it leaks out, blending their release and my release until we are simply one satiated being.

A
nnie

They let me rest until the next morning and Michigan treats me to a nice massage.

"You pack a pair of jeans?" he asks.

"Yes. Should I wear those today?"

"We're going to take a ride into Minneapolis. Judge wants Easy to check into something and I'm going as backup."

"And you're taking me with you?" I ask. The lie that Pippa had told my father was that I was going to attend a library get together in the city and that we would stay overnight. That we are actually going is exciting but I don't want to presume anything.

"Yep, you're the first woman to ride bitch on Michigan's bike," Easy says, throwing a helmet and jacket on the bed.

I raise my eyebrows and Michigan nods in confirmation.

"So, I'm popping your cherry," I say daringly.

My saucy comment causes both men to halt in their tracks. Easy is halfway into the closet and Michigan's hands freeze on my shoulders. Easy breaks first, shouting with laughter and Michigan follows soon after.

"You are perfect for us," Michigan murmurs after his chuckles have died off and the glow generated by his approval sticks with me the entire hour or so ride into the city. According to Michigan, the ride is pitifully short but it's the most I've ever ridden and my legs can barely hold me up when I swing off the saddle.

Michigan catches me and sits me back up on the bike, holding it stable while Easy comes over and gives my legs a brief rubdown.

A few people walk by but no one mentions how odd we must look, standing in the parking lot with the two bikes and their leather cuts declaring them members of the Death Lords. The clerk inside the hotel doesn't blink an eye when they ask for one room and a king size bed. Maybe these unconventional relationships are more normal in a city because if the three of us checked into the Snug Bug Motel in Fortune, Mavis Byrne would have died on the spot. Granted, she is in her seventies, but the shock would do her in.

After we check in, Michigan and Easy take me to the mall across the street. I'd been to Minneapolis before with Father, but I've never been to the giant mall. It’s so big I can’t help laughing. I can’t bring myself to buy anything although there are clothes that are sold for a few dollars and a few thousand. We make ourselves huge yogurt cups at a self-serve shop. Michigan has coffee-flavored and adds chocolate and nuts. Easy and I put a little of everything on it.

We ride the roller coaster that spins us up to the ceiling and then down to the floor. Up on the second floor, they pull me into a sexy lingerie shop.

The ladies there are all agog. Michigan blushes and walks out but Easy starts pulling stuff off the rack. I can’t believe what he wants me to wear. The saleslady forces him to leave the small dressing area. Good thing too, because if he saw me trying this stuff on, we’d be doing things that would get us arrested. I get a couple of things at Easy's insistence and he pays. I open my mouth to protest but a glare from his normally open and happy face shuts me down.

On the third floor is a Harley Davidson shop and they buy more stuff for me. I try arguing again but this time it is Michigan glaring.

“You going to ruin this for me?”

“No?” I say uncertainly.

“That’s right. I’m buying this because this is my fantasy and if you want to make that happen for me, you won’t argue.”

I shut up even as I see the haul that they’re selecting. There are shirts, boots, jackets, what looks like leather pants. None of this is anything I’ve ever worn before. Both of them try to muscle their way into the tiny dressing room, but the store clerks know what’s up and both Michigan and Easy have to cool their heels outside.

I walk out in the full garb—the leather chaps, the calf-high laced boots and a white and black moto jacket with orange trim.

“Autumn fucking harvest, man," Easy says mysteriously. Michigan nods.

The gold T-shirt underneath has a V neck that dips low and the push-up bra from the lingerie store makes me look busty. I’ve never looked so good. My legs look long in the dark jeans under the chaps and my few curves are accented by the tight clothing. The garments aren't as comfortable but even I can see how different I look.

"We'll take it all," Michigan says and turns abruptly toward the cashier's counter. Easy reaches down and adjusts himself.

The obvious erection he's sporting makes me blush which only causes him to smile broader. He strolls over and pulls my leather and denim-clad body against him. "You're a righteous biker babe, Little Red. Proud to have you on our bikes and in our bed."

Easy directs me to climb onto his bike and he hands me a helmet that they bought for me at the Harley store.

"We'll have this repainted for you when we get home."

I notice for the first time that both Easy and Michigan's helmets have the Death Lords logo as do their bikes. Swallowing past the lump of happiness in my throat, I nod. "That sounds good." My voice croaks a little and they both busy themselves as if they're afraid if they acknowledge the emotionalism of the moment, I'll start crying. And they might be right but I swallow back the tears of happiness and hop onto the bike.

Easy tugs my arms so that I'm snug against his back, my thighs hugging his. We ride down a street called American Boulevard. At times, Easy reaches down and squeezes my knee.

Back at the hotel, the guys dump my packages in the corner. Michigan drops into the sofa but Easy climbs onto the bed and crooks a finger at me.

"Come over and kiss me, Little Red. Shopping has made me horny."

"Everything makes you horny," Michigan snorts.

I don't care what makes him horny. I only appreciate his open affection. After I take my new boots off, I crawl onto the bed next to him and offer my lips up. At first our kiss is soft and lazy, more sweetness than lust. His big hand cradles my head as he explores the interior of my mouth, licking the roof, pressing against the sides of my cheeks and tapping my teeth with surprising strength. The squishy bed dips, signaling Michigan has joined us. His presence on the bed shoots our caresses from warm into red hot.

The rasp of someone's zipper is cannon loud in the quiet room and then I see denim-covered legs near my head.

Easy breaks away from my mouth and when I turn toward Michigan, his big hard penis is out. On the tip is a drop of milky fluid bisecting the flushed head. I want that and I realize with these two I can take what I want without judgment. Rising on my knees I lean forward and lick it off.

"Open up, sweetheart," orders Michigan hoarsely. When I do, the thick head of his cock is pushed between my lips. This time, he removes his hand, allowing me to set the pace, determine how much I can take. I'm only able to get half of his length inside my mouth before my gag reflex kicks so I mimic his previous actions and cup the base of the shaft in my hands. Between my hands and my mouth, I start sucking in long strokes.

Michigan twists a light hand in my hair making sure that his view of me swallowing him is unobstructed.

In the meantime, Easy is making quick work of my jeans and new lace panties. He fondles me between my legs with two sure swipes.

"Little Red must be horny too because, shit, you are dripping on my hand."

Another time I might have been embarrassed but I know by now this is a compliment. They love that I'm wet and ready for them. Boldly I shake my butt at him.

He wastes no time in entering me. I moan around Michigan's penis and the vibration must feel good because his grip tightens in my hair.

Easy has a palm flat on my low back and another on my hip as he thrusts into me. Each push of Easy's body drives me harder against Michigan. His hand in my hair tightens, pulling my head back and holding me firmly so I don't choke.

In my mouth, Michigan's shaft swells and thickens.

"I’m going to come, sweetheart," he warns. I don't care. I want to swallow his essence when Easy comes inside my sex. I want to be full up with their sperm until I'm overflowing. I suck harder, massaging the length I can't fit in my mouth, using my saliva as lubrication.

Easy reaches around to pluck at my clitoris. Delirium sets in. The onslaught of sensation sweeps me up as Michigan explodes in my mouth, spurting hard and hot jets of sperm all over my tongue. I swallow as much as I can but soon I feel Easy's orgasm as his strokes become wetter and jerkier. He falls onto his back and pulls me with him. I lie against his chest and his hips pump upwards. Michigan falls between our legs and sucks my clit into his mouth. He doesn't care that his face is close to Easy's penis and sack or that his mouth may come in contact with it. His only focus is on making sure I find my own satisfaction.

I'm helpless under their onslaught with Easy's still hard penis inside me and Michigan's mouth licking and sucking as if he hadn't eaten a dozen times at the mall. They are devouring me with their bodies and it is
perfect.
I scream out my own release, shaking and trembling as they force me over the cliff, holding my hands as we all jump into the vortex of pleasure.

I
’m
a noodle when they’re done with me and they offer to do their club business and come back for me but I’m curious so I muster up my reserve of energy and dress in the clothes they bought me. I wear a thong which feels weird. I guess the only thing I like up my butt is their penises. The thought makes me laugh.

This time I ride behind Michigan and I get that they want me to trade off which makes sense. We arrive at a rundown house in a bad neighborhood. Decay shows in the peeling paint, the trampled grass and the black plastic bags taped over the window openings. Inside the house smells stale. Cigarette smoke, spilled beer and I’m not sure what else. Michigan looks like he wants to lift me up and carry me out.

There’s no actual show like at the granary but there are women here with short shorts and tight tank tops that have
Harley
across the top.

They are busting out and I’m feeling my own lack distinctly. Feeling quite shy and out of place in my tight new jeans and T-shirt. I have my leather cuff on each wrist though. One from Michigan and one from Easy and those pieces of leather provide a lot of comfort. No one else is wearing one so I wonder if this is just a Death Lords thing. Another girl is wearing a smaller leather cut which has a patch that says "Property of Can Can."

A guy about my age pops up when we step across the threshold. Easy taps the offered fist and nods but says nothing. Instead he and Michigan are taking in everything.

"Thanks for coming. Can I get you something?" the boy asks awkwardly.

"Beer’s fine," Michigan says.

"And for your…girl?"

“Beer’s fine for her too.”

A jerk of his chin and another guy, not wearing a leather vest, runs up with three bottles. Everyone else here has a plastic cup. I guess it's a sign of respect.

“You got this?” Easy asks. After Michigan nods, Easy disappears with the boy who greeted us. Michigan takes my hand and walks into the living room. Even the drunk people understand to step out of his way. We find an empty table toward the back and Michigan rests against it, placing me between his legs.

“What’s going on?”

“He’s going to talk to the club pres. He’s about twenty-five and inherited a bad deal. There are older men here that are too dumb to lead, but not interested in following either.”

The beer is cold but I’m not used to the taste so I set it aside.

Michigan chuckles.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Myself,” he says. “I’ve all sorts of misconceptions and assumptions and you’re blowing them all away.”

“In a good way?”

“The best.”

He leans down and kisses my neck which makes me crazy. Someone cranks up the stereo and the bass thumps up through the thin floorboards. Once the music begins, the girls start dancing. They writhe together in sinuous and sexy forms reminding me of the strippers at the granary. It’s dark in here and it’s more shapes than anything, hints at eroticism instead of an outright display of flesh.

“Would you like to put on a show here?” Michigan whispers in my ear.

The thought makes me squirm. Seeing all those eyes on me? Feeling like the only hot thing in the room, hotter than the other girls with their big breasts and their tight booty-baring shorts? Yes, yes, I would like to put on a show. “There’s no shame in your body. You have a beautiful body.”

One large hand spans my belly and he moves it upward to cup one small breast, dragging my shirt up. His other hand is on my hip and his fingers are large enough that he can press the tips against my most sensitive areas. The denim bites into my flesh causing me to squeeze that spot between my legs that seems to throb whenever I'm within a twenty-foot radius of my men.

His mouth is doing naughty things on my shoulder. Behind me, nestled into the hollow of my bottom, is his huge erection.

My eyes flutter shut and in my imagination, I see myself dancing but it’s not a crowd in the audience, it’s just Easy and Michigan. They watch me with hungry eyes until their passion overtakes them and they grab me, throwing me on a magically appearing bed.

There’s a commotion in front of me. I open my eyes and see a man with longish hair, the exact color I can’t make out in the dark, staring at me with hot, hungry eyes. I know that look and it’s the look I’ve seen directed at those women. And suddenly the idea of being on display doesn’t excite me as much. I straighten and Michigan’s hand instantly falls away.

My sudden boldness is replaced by awkward discomfort. Michigan settles me into his side.

“You sharing?” the man asks.

Michigan places a hand on my neck. “No.”

No argument. No explanation. Just no.

The guy stands there and stares, his eyes taking off my new clothes and it makes me feel kind of dirty and not in a good way. Michigan takes a menacing step forward and he runs off.

“Sometimes fantasies work real well in your head and not so great playing them out.” Michigan continues to hold my neck, massaging me into a relaxed puddle of flesh. How he reads me so well continually is a surprise.