Membership

2006 Gabriel Sebastian. All rights reserved. No part may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic means, including photocopying, recording or by any information and retrieval system without the written permission of the author. That sounds awfully formal but legal crap always does. Anyway, all comments or story ideas desperately wanted.

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I love driving into Albuquerque at night but not anymore. Let me backtrack a bit. I and my wife, Carol, lived in Chicago and enjoyed it immensely. All this changed, however, when Carol got this fantastic job offer in San Diego. It included her CPA experience and offered senior level management, a real career maker. So, the decision to go for it was no question. I'm in my early forties and have a medical degree in pathology, while Carol is thirty-three and has a Masters in financial accounting. Throughout our eight year marriage, we've made sacrifices for the other, and it was my turn. Consequently, we packed our bags and went to California. After the movers came and went, we stuffed the remaining small items in the car and set off. Basically, the household got the trunk and backseat; we got the front.

The reward for this trek is Albuquerque. By now the road has climbed a couple thousand feet, you're tired, the car is tired but there is a faint glow ahead amidst the black shadows of the looming mountains. When you finally get to the horizon, you come upon this huge bowl of lights shimmering below you. From the stark mountains you wind down and down into the warmth of civilization. I think it is a city ordinance that every dwelling must have its lights on until 4:00 am. It's a sparkling oasis that offers a relaxing respite on this journey. The next morning we were fairly refreshed and set out again. About a hundred miles west of the city the car air conditioner gave out a wheeze of warm air and died. A gas station attendant said we needed a new condenser and he didn't have it. A foreign car away from a big city is not the easiest thing to repair. The only available part was in Phoenix or Albuquerque. We had a choice: Go back or press on. We decided on the latter.

Driving through the desert on an August afternoon without air-conditioning is not fun. If you have the windows up, the car is stifling. If you roll them down, the air from the blast furnace crouching outside is unbearable. Carol rummaged around the backseat to find some old cutoffs and brief tops we could slip into. Then we made our big blunder. Instead of traveling west to Flagstaff and then south to Phoenix, we decided to drive directly to the city over the mountains figuring the route didn't look bad on the map and the air at that higher altitude wouldn't be so hot. Mistake. The map lied about the road and we lied about the cooler air. By the time we reached the place called Slow Low, we were sweaty, cranky and hungry. On this stretch of highway leading into the city the only building to be seen or had been seen was a one story building offering gas and food. Actually, that sounded pretty good. I pulled off the road, parked beside the structure and the two of us went in.

The difference in desert temperature between the sun and mere shade is amazing. It was still hot outside and after spending the desert's late afternoon in an unair-conditioned car, Carol and I were cooked so, the dark unlit interior was more than welcome. Long and low, the ramshackle structure gave off the weathered sturdiness that everything in the desert has. The only light came from a couple of windows and the screened door but it was enough and no fixtures were lit to add their heat. One end of the large room housed a couple pool tables. Above each was an unlit bank of florescents that would provide excellent bright shadowless light. Lazily I rolled a cue ball off the rails. I've shot a little pool in my day and know a good table. These were despite their age. Nicked and scarred from numerous angry cues and left-to-burn cigarettes, the table's cloth was well brushed and the solid surface still ran true. If anyone besides Carol and the bartender had been there, I'd have looked for a game.

Instead, I sat at the bar next to Carol. The bartender stood before us and waited. Tall and lean, he wore faded jeans and long sleeved shirt, laundered until it was hard to discern its original green and red checkered pattern. Standing silently behind his grizzled beard, this long drink of water waited for our order. Watching Carol's breasts as she flapped the tank top for some air, he was in no hurry. When we ordered a couple hamburgers and beers, he just nodded and disappeared behind a curtained door at the end of the bar.

While Carol and I waited for the food, we sipped our beers and I looked around. Between us and the pool tables at the other end were six or eight tables and a scattering of old fashioned bent wood soda fountain chairs. The tables, some round, some square, were all covered with red and white checkered oil cloth wiped clean so many times white spots erased the original pattern. Each held a six pack beer carton whose divisions held the condiments. The standard ketchup and mustard were there but the other four sections held Tabasco, Liquid Smoke and two unlabeled bottles of green and black fluids. I know from oriental cooking if it is black or bright green, it is hotter than we East-coasteers can imagine. Large sugar containers of dried red pepper flakes rounded out the display. I didn't know who these customers were but they liked their food well spiced. They also smoked. Every table had one or two deep ashtrays for the evening's entertainment.

By that time the food arrived, and we dug in. The burgers were good. Simple with thick slices of onion and tomato, they sure beat the eight dollar monstrosities that are today's norm. Now, I gobble my food so, while Carol finished hers, I continued to look around. The walls of this place were plastered with beer signs waiting to be lit for the evening. Every brand was represented with a few of the gaudier logos used as decoration not really signifying that the beer was offered. The far wall by the pool tables held numerous license plates. As I concentrated, I realized they were the smaller ones from motorcycles. Representing different states, they probably signified visits or visitors. Suddenly, I knew where we were and it wasn't good. If I had been smart, I would have taken Carol by the arm and gotten out of there. Unfortunately, I didn't.

While Carol was finishing the last few bites, the roar of motorcycles filtered through the door. Thirty or forty scruffy bikers followed the noise and the bar was filled. No one even spoke as the bartender started putting out bottles of beer and tequila. Mostly men, the chapter included about ten women; all of them dressed in dirty tight blue jeans stuffed into motorcycle boots. Whiffs of urine stench said they'd been properly initiated. The group had made a run somewhere because all had their colors on. They were in high spirits and celebrating. "Runt, Fatso, Foxy Bitch", nicknames that went by so fast, I couldn't catch them all.

"The Stings" was the name above a circle emblem with an ornate scorpion stitched inside on the backs of their Levi jackets. "It's my nature" was the motto emblazoned underneath. Many had cut the sleeves off to make vests and for some, whether man or woman, that's all they wore They were loud, hell, they made more noise than their cycles. Headgear varied from rolled bandana sweatbands to German WWII helmets covered with Nazi swastikas. One even wore a Sioux war bonnet. All had tattoos on their armsÑand that included the women. I assumed that under those with sleeves, it was the same. A profane, colorful bunch.

When the bikers came up to the bar for refills, me they glanced at and ignored, Carol they stared at and drooled. Now , Carol is an attractive woman. Tall, she carries her 120 pounds well. She says she's ten lbs. overweight but all women say that. At any rate, it sure went into all the right curves. With her large breasts, her body looks ripe and sexy which the worn cutoffs and thin tank top didn't hide at all. Her facial features are something else again. With crystal clear blue eyes and long honey blond hair pulled back into a severe ponytail, she has those porcelain doll good looks that make her look haughty and conceited. In addition, she's got an icy stare to her that she used to dismiss the bikers like they did me.

These people didn't like us and I was more than happy when Carol and I went out the door. In the parking lot. we found the car's exit blocked by a long row of cycles. I started back, but Carol, still testy from the trip, pushed past me to go in ahead. If she had just been polite, I think we would have gotten out of there.

"Would you assholes move your bikes so we can get out of here," Carol almost screeched as she said the words before I could stop her.

"Why of course, ma'am," one of them said. As he stepped near, he smiled with the most dazzlingly white even teeth I'd ever seen. Holding out his hand, he said, "My name is Auston."

He was big. Well over six feet, Auston must have weighed 230+ pounds. Curly blond hair faded into a full beard that did not grow on his lip. Large brown bedroom eyes joined strongly chiseled features to make for a very attractive man. Dangling from one ear was a gold ring. When he flashed those pearly whites, he had the jaunty charm of a swashbuckler and the good looks of a god. "You need to be taught some manners," he said grabbing Carol's hand I knew what was coming but before I could move, two bikers clasped my arms to set me down. A couple circles of Duct tape and I wasn't going anywhere. They even put a strip over my mouth so they didn't have to listen to me. Still holding Carol's hand, Auston watched all this until he was sure I was out of the way. By now, she had that stare going full bore—she could make an ice cube want a blanket. He tilted his head back as rollicking peals of laughter roared out almost lifting the roof. God, he was a handsome brute.

Auston grabbed a chair, sat down and turned Carol over his knee. With a grin, he started to spank her.

"Let me up, you bastard," Carol screamed as her legs kicked wildly. "Stop this, damn it."

Auston didn't even hesitate while he continued. After a minute, Carol stopped screaming and her legs merely moved rather than flail. "Me thinks the lady doth like this," he said. With that he reached under her and unfastened the cutoffs. A single jerk and they and the panties were around her ankles exposing her buttocks. The shame and cool air elicited an audible intake of breath Like a rifle shot, his hand cracked against the bare flesh turning her ass pink then red. It didn't take long for her hips to rise and Carol to start soft mews despite the jeering. He was right, she enjoyed it.

Auston stood Carol and himself up, clamped her arms to her sides and lifting her by the elbows, carried her over to one of the pool tables. She sat there breathing heavily while he watched her shift from side to side to ease the sting of the cloth's touch. I heard the sinister click of a switchblade before I saw it. "Relax, little girl," Auston said, "we ain't going to hurt you." as he reached to cut and tear the thin tank top from Carol's body. He had spanked her in public and now her naked body was on full display. Freed from the confines of cloth, her large breasts rose and fell with each gasp she made; the stiffened nipples surrounded by the puckered pink aureoles went along for the ride. She pouted sullenly as she tried to fix him again with that stare, but her excited body wouldn't let her hold the expression.

"Sweetums, get over here, girl," Auston ordered.

A thick set girl came out of the crowd and stood before Carol. Sweetums had slender shapely legs encased in those tight jeans but from the waist up, she was kind of heavy—no, strike thatshe was fat. Rolls of flesh overlapped the edges of her too small vest. Nearly unbuttoned, it barely hid the large pendulous tits underneath. Dark complexioned with long straight black hair parted in the middle and held by a headband, she looked like an Indian that she probably was. Taking a long pull from the bottle of Tequila she held, her black eyes watched Carol with the unblinking stare of a hungry snake. Transfixed, Carol lost whatever glare she had left. Then, Sweetums flicked out her tongue (There is an old joke: Two guys are talking at a bar. The handsome one asks,

'You're so ugly. How do you get so many women?" "I don't know," is the reply. "I just lick my forehead and say hello."). Maybe, she couldn't touch her brow but she could lick things we couldn't. Carol completely lost her composure and started murmuring a quiet, "No, please no."

Taking another swig of Tequila, Sweetums handed it and her vest to Auston to kneel before Carol's dangling legs. Using her large breasts, she swayed Carol's knees wide apart exposing her vagina to that tongue and the room. Barely touching the slit, the tip traced a long slow path. Twirling around Carol's clit, it repeated its wet slippery circuit as Carol's pussy lips puffed and parted. Sweetum's spongy muscle slurped in while Carol tried to appear non chalant especially in front of those howling bikers. A creeping dreamy look in her expression broadcast what that long tongue was doing Closing her eyes, she tossed her head back as her hips began to jerk. One of the men holding her shoulders poured liquor into her open mouth. The muscles in her throat worked furiously as she swallowed and swallowed. She let that fiery liquid go in her belly like that tongue went into her cunt. They had her.

Whatever shame Carol had about being on public display was gone. The liquor and Sweetums had swept all her inhibitions away. Lips parted in moaning sighs as her breasts heaved. You couldn't see Sweetum's tongue but you could watch Carol's face and know where it was. Her hips bounced in time to the head between her legs. She squirmed a widening welcome. The men beside her twisted and pulled the nipples cruelly. They leered when they got a swelling acceptance. Whatever their fingers or mouths did, she liked and the crowd urged everyone on. They had a rich bitch in their clutches and she was fulfilling every wet dream they ever had. As if on cue, she unabashedly pushed the throbbing bulge of her cunt forward.

From where I sat in my taped jail cell, I watched Sweetums' bobbing head, could see her tongue make its long journey. Carol was the center of a hot lusty scene and her loud grunts announced her enjoyment. She would eventually get the entire gang, but I got the women right then. They'd pulled my shorts down to expose the erection I had. I'd like to say this wasn't exciting but there I stood, tall and proud. While Carol's hooded eyes glanced my way, one of the girls reached over and let her hand slide from the base to the tip of the swollen shaft. Sweetums' tongue circling the muscular ring of her anus drew Carol's attention away. Her face had long ago lost its cold perfection. It now held an avid hunger as she succumbed to the repeating rhythm of the tongue tip licking her ass, traveling up the glistening valley of her pussy and swirling around the exposed clit. Her eyes closed once again.

With no warning, Sweetums seized Carol's hips, drew her pelvis towards her and stuck that long tongue in Carol's ass. Startled, her eyes snapped open and her hips rose. Sweetums slipped her hands underneath and started to squeeze. Deep indentations and red spots appeared as the hard contractions persisted. Carol could only grunt as the sensations from that long velvety eel exploded in her brain. The tremors in her body built once again as that tongue stabbed into her backside. She tipped her head back and howled .

Raising her knees to her chest, Carol tilted up her rectum to take more of that twisting organ. Jamming her mouth towards Carol's crotch, Sweetums was more than happy to oblige. Dragging her nose across the clit, she spread the cheeks so the cleft widened to let more of her in. Carol began to shiver and the tongue went deeper. She started to shake and that worm struck even more ferociously. She was coming. She tried to catch her breath but a moan got in the way. Finally she screamed as her hips bucked uncontrollably. Sweetums' face, gleaming with gushed oils, rose from Carol's drooling pussy. Freeing a hand, she began rubbing Carol's raw vagina to prolong the tremors. Her mouth twisted into an evil satisfied grin as Carol pleaded with her to stop.

Tapping Sweetums on the shoulder, Auston took her place. Somewhere he had shed his pants and stood in front of Carol in his vest and boots idly stroking his erection. He wouldn't win any 'Biggest Cock on the Block' award but he'd sure come in second or third. Using his fingers on the shaft as a brake, he inserted just the head and began rubbing up and down. Carol's pussy lips clung to whatever they could as she sighed a, "Put it in."

"I didn't hear you beg," Auston grinned as he continued to tease her.

"Please, Auston, fuck me!"

"What? No sugar?" was the reply.

Up and down.

In a frenzy, Carol screamed a "Pretty please with ..."

A flick of his hips and Auston drove in full length. Carol' s body went soft and stiff at the same time. I think she came once again. Thrusting her hips forward, she reared up to lock her wrists behind his neck, her legs around his waist. Grabbing her ass, he stepped back from the table and let her hang mashed against his body. They were the main attraction for a wildly cheering audience.

Auston would pull his hips back as far as he could exposing his glistening cock and then come in hard. From the way his fingers disappeared in the cleft of Carol's ass, he was stabbing into her anus as well. Carol had never been fucked like this; she became an animal. She was a bitch in heat that needed it bad. The muscles in his arms bulged from the force he used to pull her hips. You could hear their bellies slap together when he drove his cock into her. Carol's high-pitched keens from each thrust kept time. She was coming. Auston's prick dripped with her juices every time you saw it at the back end of the next plunge. He bent his head and licked her tits. The gushed oils from her cunt ran down his legs. His teeth clamped on a nipple; he pulled it to an impossible length. Carol, her head thrown back, hissed a, "Yess," from the beautiful agony. Her hips started to convulse. With one final push, Auston dove into her. His body stiffened as his ass jerked—he pumped for a long time. It was over. Auston dumped Carol's limp body back on the table and walked away. As far as he was concerned she was just a cunt who wanted his cock so, he gave it to her.

One of the other bikers tipped Carol over and began to fuck her sloppy pussy. She was almost too exhausted to moan, but she got the energy when she came.. At the last moment, he pulled out to pump his jism on her stomach. Making mindless sounds, she eagerly smeared the sticky fluid over her body. That was the last time I really saw her.

With the show over, the female bikers had decided to play with their new boy-toy and they wanted to find out how good I was. Carol's moans were always in the background. Glimpses would see her suck a cock while her pussy had another. Other times her gleaming body was on hands and knees as she took it in the ass. They were only quick looks; I had my own center of attention.

The women straddled my hips, impaled themselves on my stiff cock and began to pump. When I began to swell, they'd get off to lick my face or rub their hands on my body until I calmed down. After I did, they'd start their grinding lap dance once again. The relief I got when I was finally allowed to explode was immense. I thought it was over. One of the women knelt before me and licked me clean. Satisfied with the job, she used her mouth and twirling tongue to suck me back into hardness. Gleefully, the bikers bounced on their renewed toy. Entangling their fingers in my hair, they'd pull my head back and kiss me savagely, sucking my tongue into oblivion. The sensitive skin on my cock couldn't take too much and I came again. Gulping air into my lungs, my only thought was, "Surely." Then that vacuum cleaner descended. It was Sweetums. Like she did with Carol, she seized my ass and pulled me to her. Voraciously that mouth and tongue attacked my limp dick. No matter what she did, it wasn't going to get hard again. But, I could still feel. Sweetums had me on a razor edge between pain and pleasure and I wasn't sure which side I was on. I only felt a dry phft, phft as I came into that vicious whirlwind. I remember screaming. I must have blacked out because my next sensation was Auston's voice.