Girlfriend Material

"He did try to resist," Irene offered in Smudge's defence. "I had to blackmail him before he'd fuck me the first time."

"You're ok with it, Topper?" Smudge asked a little incredulously.

"Sure, Irene's got thing for younger guys, you see?" he replied pushing two fingers into Irene's pussy and making her squeal again.

"Just like you've got a thing for younger girls," she pointed out.

"Also true," Topper laughed.

"So can we play now?" Irene clarified.

"Go on then."

Irene lifted herself out of Topper's lap, let her robe slip to the floor then walked over to where Smudge was sitting. She knelt down in front of him, supporting her arms on his thighs and sticking her bare bottom in the air, like a bitch on heat. Then she began to work on Smudge's belt which she undid with practised ease. Smudge helped her pull his jeans down around his ankles then lay back in the armchair and watched Irene go to work on his cock.

Topper wasn't about to ignore Irene's backside. He got up out of the sofa and dropped his trousers then sank to his knees behind Irene. His cock was semi erect and he wanked it to hardness with one hand while fingering Irene with the other.

Irene was giving Smudge her trademark deep throat when Topper pushed inside her. She let out a low sigh and the vibrations travelled straight through Smudge's cock in a very agreeable manner. Smudge grabbed the back of her head and held her face all the way down on him while Topper began to fuck her.

Irene lapped it up. It was if she'd been made to be used by men. When Smudge took his hand off her head, she came up for air and did so with a big grin on her face.

"Do me the way I like it," she told her husband then pulled away from both men and lay on her back on the carpet.

Topper immediately climbed on top and sunk his cock into her. Then, without any foreplay, this time he just pounded the life out of her for about three minutes or so. Irene clawed at his back as he did, urging him to fuck her harder, and Topper continued to pound away until he was spent.

"Your turn Prospect," he said, his breath laboured as he quickly made way for Smudge.

Smudge did what he was told and climbed onto the waiting Irene then fucked her like a jackhammer for as long as he could. Irene scratched and clawed at him cursing under her breath as she went from one orgasm to another.

Smudge lasted longer than Topper but, when he was spent too, he climbed off Irene who lay there like a slut ready to take on all comers. Topper pulled her up from floor and positioned her on her knees, bent over the sofa and resting on the cushions. Then he proceeded to fuck her doggy style as forcefully as he had before. Again he lasted about three minutes before making way for Smudge.

From the moment he entered Irene, Smudge could tell it was only going to end one way this time.

"I'm gonna cum soon," he told any interested parties in case there were specific instructions.

"Fill me up sweetheart," Irene instructed. "Then Topper can finish me off."

For a second time, Smudge fucked Irene for all he was worth. He tried to hold on for as long as he could but in the end he just couldn't last a moment longer.

"Fuck," was all he could manage as he slowed right down then shot his load into Irene's pussy.

"Now let Topper have his turn," Irene told Smudge almost immediately after..

Smudge would have liked a bit more time inside Irene to enjoying the dying moments of his orgasm but he pulled out of her, still hard, and let Topper take his place.

Topper grunted with enthusiasm as he pushed his cock into Irene's cum filled pussy.

"Fuck that feels good, you little slut," he snarled as he began to fuck her. "You like cum in your pussy don't you, slut?"

It wasn't Shakespeare but Topper's words seemed to hit the mark with Irene.

"My pussy's always here for you, Topper. Now give me what I want."

Topper's final moments inside Irene were frenzied. He fucked her like an animal and she encouraged him with the filthiest of language until, inevitably, he couldn't hold on any longer. His body stiffened and gripping her hips tightly he made one enormous final thrust then groaned with pleasure. Irene groaned too then her body went limp from exhaustion.

Unlike Smudge, Topper savoured every last moment inside Irene. Not moving until his soft cock fell out of her. The two of them sat on the floor lying back on the sofa and cuddled.

"You're welcome to sleep in the spare room tonight," Irene told Smudge and Topper nodded his agreement.

"Thanks Irene," Smudge replied, not really feeling like getting back on his bike and riding home.

Irene got up holding one hand over her pussy to stop cum dripping on the carpet. She offered her other hand to her husband who took it and heaved himself up off the floor.

"Night Smudge," she said.

"Night Prospect," Topper added.

"Night both," Smudge replied.

Smudge got himself a glass of water from the kitchen then went up to the spare room. It was a nicer room than his room at home and it had a double bed. He laid out his clothes on a chair then crawled between the sheets.

Around thirty minutes later the door to spare room opened and Irene tiptoed in. Without a word she got into bed beside him. The two of them spooned and as they did Smudge couldn't stop his erection. Silently Irene reached round and guided him into her then let Smudge fuck her from behind.

__________

Friday, 31st July 1981

When Smudge woke up on Friday morning he was alone. Irene must have gone back to Topper during the night. The rest of the house was silent and so he had a quick wash then dressed and slipped out of the front door.

Smudge arrived at the Richardson's Motorbikes before Mr. Richardson, who was surprised to see him outside.

"You're keen," John Richardson joked as he opened up the shop.

"You know me Mr. Richardson," Smudge laughed.

"Let's see how you feel after a day of getting your hands filthy and your knuckles scraped shall we?"

As a mechanic, most of Smudge's time was spent servicing bikes. Every now and again there'd be a bike that had broken down and Smudge would have to figure out what had gone wrong then repair it. He enjoyed that work the most. But today he was happy to service bikes and think about the events of the previous evening. He'd fucked Irene twice and earned two hundred and fifty pounds to boot. That was almost a month's wages after deductions.

After work he rode home in time to catch his mum before she left for her boyfriend's for the weekend.

"Where did you get to last night?" Sally asked.

"I just crashed at a mates, mum," Smudge replied.

Sally knew better than to probe. Smudge was like his Dad, the strong silent type, so she left it. The two of them hugged and Sally picked up her overnight bag.

"You don't mind me leaving you each weekend, do you?"

"Don't be soft mum," Smudge replied. "Just don't do anything I wouldn't," he joked.

Sally blushed then headed out to her car. Smudge felt bad for being a burden to her. She can't have had much of a life since his dad had died. Smudge was glad she'd found a man, even if he was a bit of a knob.

Conscious of the fact that he hadn't had a proper wash since fucking Irene, Smudge had a quick bath and brushed his teeth, twice. By the time he'd finished, Crash, the other prospect was knocking at the front door. They observed the ritual of going for fish and chips on a Friday night then headed to the Wolves' clubhouse for another evening of chores.

"How much longer do you think we'll have to do this?" Crash asked as they cleared away the empty beer bottles. "I'm fed up with Prospect do this, Prospect do that, all the time."

"Christ, don't you up and leave," Smudge replied. "It was bad enough when Spence jacked it in in June."

"You're safe," Crash re-assured him. "All I've ever wanted to be was a Wolf."

"Me too."

The conversation was interrupted by Tramp, one of the full patch members shouting at them.

"Prospect come here."

Crash and Smudge looked up, not sure who was required.

"You prospect," Tramp said pointing at Smudge. "Easy wants a word with you."

Easy was the president of the club and while Smudge wasn't worried he'd done anything wrong, he wasn't sure what was going on either.

Easy had an office in the old farmhouse building that the served as the Wolves' clubhouse. Tramp escorted Smudge into the office then closed the door behind him. Easy was sitting behind a desk looking very officious while, to his left, leaning up against the wall was Topper. Easy didn't offer Smudge a seat and so Smudge stood like a naughty schoolboy in front of the headmaster.

"How's it going Prospect?" Easy began.

"Fine Easy," Smudge replied.

"You've been prospecting for almost six months now," Easy observed. "Are you enjoying it?"

"Not all of it," Smudge answered honestly. "But I understand why I'm doing it."

"And why is that?"

"To prove I'm good enough to be a Wolf."

Easy opened a drawer and tossed something across the desk to Smudge, who picked it up. It was a felt patch that had "WRECKING CREW" written on it.

"Get it sewn on your cut within the hour Prospect. There's a sewing kit in the kitchen."

"Thanks Easy," Smudge said then he nodded at Topper who nodded back.

"And remember," Easy added with a cautionary tone, "What goes on in Wrecking Crew stays in the Wrecking Crew. Loose talk costs lives."

"Yes Easy."

"Well done Prospect. I'm expecting big things from you," Easy said in summary. "Now fuck off and get that patch sewn on."

Smudge was pleased as punch. Several people saw him sewing his new patch on and he felt the respect off them even if he was still a prospect. Another six months and he felt sure he'd be a fully patched member of the Wolves.

__________

Saturday, 1st August 1981

Time seemed to travel slower than usual at Richardson's Motorbikes on Saturday morning and Smudge couldn't believe how long it took for midday to arrive. When Mr. Richardson finally told him he could knock off, Smudge was out of the workshop like a greyhound out of a trap. He rushed home, had a quick bath, then put on some fresh clothes and packed his best evening gear into a rucksack before heading off to meet Niamh and her friends.

Smudge knew the country pub he was meeting them at and when he arrived it looked as though Davey Swann had made it their first. Smudge parked his bike next to Davey's. The beautiful new Suzuki GS1100 that Smudge had so meticulously prepared for him two months ago was now looking very much worse for wear. It bore the marks of more than a few drops and slides down the road.

Smudge wasn't sure if he'd remember what Davey looked like. He'd only met him briefly when he and Lynne had come to the shop to pick up the bike. He didn't spot anyone in the bar he recognised but when he went out into the beer garden there were Davey, Lynne and Niamh waiting for him.

"We got you a pint," Niamh shouted over to Smudge.

Niamh was wearing a summer dress and Smudge thought how pretty she looked in it. She got up to greet him and gave Smudge a very affectionate hug and a kiss.

"This is Smudge," she said afterwards to Davey and Lynne. "I think you both met him when you bought your bike."

"I remember," Davey said, shaking Smudge's hand. "Pleased to meet you again."

"I remember you too," Lynne said smiling and giving him a polite embrace.

Davey looked a bit like all footballers did back then, from the athletic build to the mullet haircut. He was shorter than Smudge by a couple of inches, probably around five-nine. In jeans and boots he looked like he'd arrived on his bike, whereas Lynne definitely didn't. She looked gorgeous though. At five six she was a good few inches taller than Niamh. She was a blonde with one of those Lady Diana haircuts that were so popular at the time. She wore a pencil skirt and a blouse with padded shoulders and Smudge couldn't help noticing her great breasts and shapely legs.

"Niamh said you might be able to give Davey some riding tips this afternoon," Lynne continued hopefully.

"I'm no instructor," Smudge answered honestly, "but I'm always up for a ride and if I can give you any tips, Davey, I'm happy to. That's if you're ok with it," he said looking at Niamh and Lynne.

"Lynne and I are going shopping in Birmingham," Niamh explained. "So you boys can take as long as you like."

Niamh, Lynne and Davey seemed comfortable in each other's company, like old friends. The fact that both girls had been out with Davey didn't seem to be a problem for any of them. Niamh explained to Smudge that she'd met Lynne on one of her first student nursing placements. She'd been assigned to shadow Lynne, who hadn't long qualified as a nurse herself and the two girls had just hit it off. Niamh had met Davey in a nightclub and they'd gone out for a while then, one night, Niamh had introduced Lynne to Davey and the rest was history.

"And I hear you're engaged now," Smudge added.

"That's right," Davey whispered, "but we're keeping it low profile for a couple of weeks, so if you could keep it to yourself."

"Oh right. Sure."

"I just couldn't let Niamh go back to Ireland without telling her," Lynne explained.

"So how did you two meet?" Davey asked.

"It was sort of a blind date," Niamh offered. "Back in May, my friend Caitlin was going to a rock concert with her boyfriend. She was a bit worried about going on her own so I came with her for moral support."

"And?..." Lynne asked.

"And Caitlin's boyfriend had this really hunky mate. And I might have let him know I was interested. So we danced and we kissed and I ended up spending the night at his place. Didn't I?" Niamh said, looking over to Smudge and squeezing his arm.

"You hussy," Lynne laughed. "So you've been going out ever since?"

Niamh glanced at Smudge again with a slightly desperate look now.

"Sort of," she said. "Smudge is prospecting for a local bike club at the moment so we're keeping things low key."

Smudge was surprised at her comment. She'd always told him she didn't want a boyfriend but he let it slide.

"So you're a Hells Angel then?" Lynne asked.

If you asked the public about bike clubs then most of them had only really heard of the Hells Angels.

"I'm not an Angel," Smudge clarified. "I'm prospecting for the Wolves."

"It just seems like a lot of hard work at the moment," Niamh added. "On top of his job at the bike shop."

The conversation moved on and Smudge was glad not to have had to answer too many questions about the Wolves. After a couple of pints the four of them walked out into the car park and after a few hugs, Lynne and Niamh got into Davey's brand new BMW three series.

"We'll see you both back at the house later," Lynne told the boys as the girls set off for Birmingham.

"Ok. Let's go riding," Smudge said to Davey.

Davey got onto his bike and paddled it backwards out of the parking place then promptly lost his balance and fell over. The bike pinned one of his legs to the ground and Smudge had to get off his own bike to lift Davey's off him.

"It was going to be a long afternoon," Smudge thought to himself.

"I'm so shit," Davey said.

"It's just practise," Smudge said encouragingly. "Anyone can ride a bike."

After about half an hour Smudge began to question whether he'd been wrong about anyone riding a bike. Davey was a shit rider. But when they stopped and had a chat it became clear to Smudge that Davey couldn't ride because nobody had ever taught him. So Smudge went back to basics and showed him things like clutch control, how to counter-steer and where to look when you want to turn or corner. Once he'd had it explained to him there was nothing wrong with Davey's ability to pick things up and as you'd expect from an athlete his coordination was good. Davey came on in leaps and bounds and in no time at all he was getting his confidence back.

After a couple of hours, they'd racked up a fair few miles and the two of them stopped at a roadside cafe for a break.

"You make a pretty good instructor," Davey said, paying Smudge a compliment.

"You're a fast learner," Smudge told him.

"Thanks."

The two of them sat in silence, cupping their mugs of tea for a moment.

"So, is Lynne going to come out on the back of the bike with you?" Smudge asked.

"I'm not sure. I think I might have put her off with my antics to date," Davey laughed.

Smudge chuckled at Davey's self-effacing manner.

"Niamh doesn't seem to have any problem going on the back of your bike," Davey observed.

"She's a good pillion," Smudge answered. "She doesn't have a lot of choice, mind. It's not like we've an alternative other than the bus."

"How's it going with her?" Davey enquired.

"When we're together it's great. But it feels like she's holding back a bit. Not wanting to commit. I mean she told you about me prospecting and I get that it's not ideal. But she doesn't want us to be exclusive either and I don't know what to make of that. What was she like when you dated her."

Davey thought for a moment before answering.

"She was a bit of a wild child, I guess. Didn't want to be exclusive with me either."

Davey's words sounded familiar.

"I don't know if she told you this but I met Lynne when Niamh organised a threesome for us. Lynne and Niamh are two peas from the same pod you see."

"A threesome?" Smudge asked, almost spilling his tea. "First I've heard of it."

"Hmmm," Davey confirmed.

"Was it just a one off?"

"Niamh and I met up with a few people while we were together. There's a lot of it goes on between footballers and she seemed really keen on, you know, 'swinging'." Davey stopped for another moment then admitted, "Lynne and I still do it. And if I'm honest we still see Niamh from time to time."

Smudge went silent, trying to process the information.

"I guess I can't complain," he said stoically. "She's been honest about not being exclusive from the start. I guess I just didn't know what that meant."

"Have you gone out with anyone else since the two of you started seeing each other?"

"Gone out? No. Fucked? Yes," Smudge answered honestly.

"Look, if it means anything, Lynne tells me that Niamh really likes you. I mean really likes you. Lynne says she's never seen Niamh like this over someone before and I'm including myself in the list of also rans here," he laughed.

"Thanks for the pep talk," Smudge laughed. "And thanks for being honest."

"If Niamh didn't want to be with you then she wouldn't be. I know that much about her," Davey told him. "I mean you're here, she's introducing you to her friends. That's got to be good hasn't it?"

"I guess."

"I shouldn't say this but I think the girls were planning a surprise for us tonight. You know, a foursome."

"Seriously?" Smudge said, his face lighting up at the prospect.

"Seriously. But If you're not up for it then say."

"Are you fucking kidding?" Smudge laughed.

"Good man."

Davey and Smudge got back on their bikes and carried on into Wales before turning around and heading back. Smudge had plenty of time to think as he rode and the fact that Niamh hadn't told him about the threesomes she'd been having with Davey and Lynne gnawed at him a bit.

It was after six by the time they got to Davey's House. Davey lived on a nice street in an upmarket suburb on the outskirts of town. The houses were obscured from the road by mature trees and each had its own little driveway.

"Nice house," Smudge said to Davey when they'd pulled up outside the front door.

"Thanks. It's not mine though. The house, the car, it's all rented," he laughed.

When they heard the bikes, Lynne and Niamh came out to greet them.

"We were getting worried," Lynne told them.

"As in, 'We were getting worried that Davey had come off his bike'," Niamh joked.