Freedom
©September, 2002
Jason Halstead

	I blame it on John Kay.   Him and the rest of Steppenwolf and that damn song.  You know the one, “Born to be Wild”.
	I had not heard the song in years, since back in my wild youth.  I had been a biker back then, owning a vintage Harley 883.  Back when bikers were more then cool.  Back when they were dangerous.  Oh sure, I suppose they still are, but now anybody can be one just by spending the cash to pick up a riceburner that looks and (with some modifications) sounds like a hog.
	Maybe it was her fault.  I swore if I heard her call me Joshy one more time I was gonna crack the first time I heard it.  I guess I finally did.  Mindy was such a snobby bitch.  Looking back, I have no idea what I ever saw in her.  I guess it was the golden hair, impossibly perky tits, and legs that went on beyond the horizon.
	In the end, I had just given it all up and got out.  I was tired of being the trophy husband.  Sure, I knew my shit, but being the director of quality assurance for her daddy’s company?  Not my style.  I had my masters in electrical engineering, for Christ’s sake!  She did not need my support or my money, she had her families money to fall back on.  Besides, by leaving her I gave her even more, I gave her the center of attention she needed.  She could milk the abandoned housewife bit for months, knowing her.  Nevermind her degree in psychology.
	I did empty out my accounts though.  I was surprised to see that I still had any money left, given the way she spent it.  It was enough to let me get away though.  I was not even sure I planned on really doing it as I drove to the bank until I heard good old John Kay on the radio.  With the lyrics running through my head, I cancelled my accounts and pocketed the money, amused at the astonished looks the teller and bank manager gave me.
	Let me just tell you, it is not easy to cancel out an account if you have any substantial amount of money in it.  Banks just do not like having very much cash on hand.  I finally settled for $40 grand in bills and the rest in a cashiers check.  Though where I could cash it I did not know.  In the end I decided to set up an account in another bank.  A bank that did not have one of her family members sitting on the board of directors.
	I sat next at a stoplight.  Me and my truck.  All of my worldly possessions sitting in the seat beside me.  That meant a suitcase and my laptop.  I glanced off to the side and saw a homeless lady pushing a cart filled with her junk.  Oh sure, it was junk to me, but maybe I should be a little less critical.  After all, I was homeless now too.  Problem was, I was the only one who knew it.
	My phone rang.  It shocked me, making me realize the light had just changed to green.  I pulled it off the clip at my side and looked at it.  It was Her.  She did not know yet; I had just told her I was going out.  A car behind me honked.  I smiled and rolled down my window.
	“Hey lady!” I called to her.  The bag lady looked up at me, surprised that anyone would talk to her.  I nodded and smiled.  She turned to face me and I tossed the ringing phone to her.  “It’s yours!” I told her, giving the powerful eight cylinder engine some gas and driving through the now yellow light.  It was a company phone.
	I just drove around then, wondering what was next.  I felt good.  I felt free.  I had no idea what to do, but right then and there, I knew what I wanted.  It was not a thing.  It was not a place.  It was a state of being.  It was to live.  Like a true nature’s child, I was ready to be wild!
	It was no surprise that I pulled into the Harley dealership next.  I did not even realize that I was heading that way.  Funny how the freed mind works.  I parked my F-250 and walked into the showroom, admiring the chrome and heavy metal.  Even the smell was almost enough to give me an erection.  I dimly heard a bike start up and rev its engine somewhere in the back of the building, probably the service garage.  It sent shivers down my spine.
	“Need some help?” A salesman, of course.  Worse then lawyers normally, but today he was my angel of salvation.
	I turned to face him and felt my mouth drop.  It was a her.  It had sounded like a man.  Or did I just expect it to sound like a man?  At any rate, she had the angel part down.  Brunette, closely cropped to her head but styled in a way that spoke of being haphazard and quick, but still able to be pulled off.  Athletic body in the right places, but still enough meat on her bones to wrestle up a big dog and leave some left over to give her some damn impressive curves.  Mindy had been one of those petite body types.  God I hated being afraid I was going to break her!
	“What can I drive out of here?” I asked after I found my voice.  She smirked.  Apparently she got that reaction a lot.  A girl selling Harley’s?  Man, times-were-a-changing.
	“Well, most of these require you to sign up for the waiting list.  1 to 3 years, last I checked,” she said, looking at the parked bikes.  I whistled.  I knew the demand was high, but 3 years just to get on a bike?  Most people could have theirs paid off by the time they got it.
	“Show me what you’ve got, honey, and I’ll pay cash right here.”
	She turned back to me and raised her eyebrows in surprise.  “We might be able to work something out.”  She smiled and looked mighty fine doing it.  I imagined how nice she would look with that and nothing else on.  Pretty girl, lots of bikes, my pants suddenly felt a lot tighter.
	“By the way, my name is Becky,” That damned smile again.  I was going to pay a lot more then the bike was worth.  But what the hell, I did not mind!  “You ever ride a bike before?” She asked me
	I started to chuckle but stopped myself.  “You get a lot of older guys in here out of the blue?”
	She shrugged.  “You’d be surprised.  Mid-life crisis or something I think.  You look too young for that though.”
	Bless her soul.  I think I was falling in love.  “I guess you could call it that.  Time for a change, that’s for sure.”
	She smiled warmly.  Encouragingly.  And in my juvenile mind, erotically.  “I haven’t been on a bike in…um… about 13 years now.  Had an 883 though, did my own work on it too.”  I felt like a teenager trying to impress the homecoming queen.  God I loved life!
	“They’re a lot bigger now,” She said, clearly amused by me.
	“So am I,” I quipped.  Maybe it was my imagination, but I swear her eyes darted to check out my package.  At least I think it was my crotch she ogled, however briefly, since I kept myself in good shape.  Somehow I did not think I would be missing playing tennis anymore.  Might be time to take up a new exercise, say 12 ounce curls.
	We walked then, me following her as she went past several bikes without comment.  I saw one ahead that I thought looked like enough to give me a wet dream.  I pointed, not trusting myself to speak.  She stopped and admired it with me for a moment.  Lots of chrome, spoked wheels, large metal studded leather saddlebags, and a large windshield on the front to fend off rocks and small passenger planes (also known as birds and bugs).
	“You have good taste,” she said, walking over to it.  “Most guys come in here thinking they need a big bad black Harley.  This is big and bad, no doubt about it, but I really go for the red pearl paint.  Very sexy.  The sissy bar shows you’ve got a little something extra in mind too, for that special lady.”
	The way she talked about it made me feel like she wanted to have sex with it.  She sat on the seat and ran her hand along the gas tank like she was caressing the skin on a lover.  I felt another shiver go down my spine.  “That reminds me, can I get one of those here too?”
	She looked at me funny, wondering what I was talking about.
	“A special lady,” I said, clearing up her confusion.  She laughed lightly and just smiled.  I swear her smile got a little bit naughtier each time she sent it my way.  I did not mind.
	“88 cubic inches of fuel injected power, this honey pumps out 85 foot pounds at 3000 rpms.  The engine is rubber mounted, but it still vibrates enough to let you know there’s some serious horses kicking around below you.”
	“Nothing like having something powerful between your legs,” I said, fighting the urge to drool.  Drool on her or the bike though, that was the question.
	“And a man that knows how to use it,” she responded, grinning.  “This is the Heritage Softail Classic, FLSTSI.  5 gallon gas tank that is supposed to get 48 miles per gallon, but I think most people get closer to 40.”
	“Why’s that?”
	“Because it’s a Harley.  You have to rev your engines and impress people,” she gave me a knowing wink.  I blushed.  Yeah, I would do that, just like every other damned Harley rider out there.
	“Suspension is pretty decent on it, but you probably want to get the seats replaced.  Stock seats tend to make your ass hurt after 30 minutes or so.  And when you’re two-up, whoever is on the back will find their underwear has a tendency to go places it should not go unless you are wearing something fit for a clothing optional beach.”
	I chuckled.  “You ever have that problem?”  Maybe I should not have asked that, but the testosterone in the dealership was getting to me.  None of it came from her, thankfully, but all these bikes, the smells, the sounds, and this sexy voiced woman.  Well, who could blame me?
	She needed to patent that smile she kept giving me, she could market it and make some good money.  “I try to wear the clothing optional beach underwear when I ride.”
	Somehow, my legs kept me up.  I do not know how, but they did.
	“I don’t ride shotgun much, though.  I’ve got my own bike I drive.”  This girl was full of surprises.  Then again, why did that surprise me?  Old fashioned male chauvinism I guess.  Back in my day you never saw a chick driving a bike.
	“So what does a pretty girl like you drive?”
	“Dyna-Glide Low Rider, FXDL,” she said proudly and pointed towards one on the showroom floor.  “Except mine’s blue.”
	I checked out the bike from a distance.  It sat lower to account for her shorter height, but it looked very nice.  The display model was black, like most of the other bikes in there.  “You’ve got good taste too.”
	“Thanks,” she said, getting off the bike and offering it to me.
	I swung my leg over it and sat down, feeling the contours of the seat and how comfortably my legs slipped up onto the running boards.   I pulled in the clutch and ran it through its gears.  It shifted smoothly and made enough of a clunking noise when the gears changed that I felt any resistance I had melt.
	“Got any custom seats for it?” I asked, checking out the gauges.  The seat worked okay, but I could tell that after a while it would start to cramp up.
	“Of course!” It was both of our lucky days.  She would get a nice commission off my sale, and I would get one hell of a nice ride.  With any luck, maybe I could even get two nice rides out of it.  “The ones that everybody raves about are these newer ones we just got in with gel in them.  It takes between 500 and 1000 miles for them to conform to your body, and they can be a little unpleasant till then, but once you reach that mile marker, there’s nothing better in the world.”
	I just nodded, lost in the sensations of sitting on the motorcycle.  “Highway pegs?” I asked her, coming out of my silent appreciation.
	She grinned.  “13 years, eh?”
	I chuckled.  “Yeah, but I try to keep up on things when I can.  I welded my own on before, and let me tell you, that’s a tricky thing to do and not fuck up!”
	She nodded, “You should hear some of the horror stories of people who bring in their bikes they have tried to fix up on their own or just took to a chop shop.  It makes me want to cry when I see what they did to their machines.”
	“So, make me runner up for the happiest man in the world and tell me I can have this today with the new seat and the pegs on it.” I gave her my most charming smile I could give her.  It had been a few years since I tried it on, but it still seemed to work.
	“Uh-uh,” she shook her head from side to side, sending my hopes crashing to the floor.  “I won’t settle for anything less then making you the grand prize winner in the happiest man in the world race.”
	She was teasing me.  God, I think I did love her!
	“So what’s that going to take?” She finished.
	“All of the above plus you showing me some good places to ride around here and having dinner with me tonight,” I looked her straight in the eyes as I said this and noticed how beautiful they were.  Brown or green, I was not sure, but wow were they easy to get lost in.
	“Is that all?  I thought you were going to play hard to get!”
	We laughed together at that.  I felt better then I had in years.  I imagined she felt pretty damn good too, but maybe later I could make sure of that.
	“Let’s draw up some paperwork for this.  You say you’re paying cash?” She asked me, her eyes going up and down my body as I got off the bike.  It was a lot bigger then I was used too, but I was ready for it.
	The grand bill came to $28k and some change.  All in all, not too bad.  Could have gone cheaper had I jumped on a waiting list, but in three years the world might be blown to hell.  Carpe diem.  Unfortunately I did have to come back later to pick it up.  They needed to go over it and tune it up for me, plus make the modifications I had requested to it.  I could hardly wait!
	But wait I did.  Somehow.  The rest of the day was a blur that took forever.  Paradoxal, I know.  I came back early and went to the parts shop of the store, buying some riding leathers.  Gloves, vest, jacket, boots, and even a pair of chaps for those extra cold rides.  Hey, I lived in Connecticut, it can get pretty damn cold!
	Finally I wandered back into the showroom and saw Becky, my angel of redemption.  She smiled when she saw me and waved.  I waved back but waited, since she was helping another customer.  With nothing else to do I gazed at the bikes and noticed the Heritage Classic was gone.  It was gone because somebody had bought it.  I had bought it.  It was now my bike.  Waves of pleasure raced through me at the realization of it.  I was a little kid at Christmas.  I hurried over to the garage, anxious to see if it was finished.
	It was.  I signed off on some paperwork and took the keys from the greasy hands of the mechanic.  I did not mind the grease, it was honest work.  Honest work, something I had not done in years.  He led me out to where it was parked and wished me a good ride.
	I just stood there and admired it.  I walked around it and studied it more thoroughly.  I went through checking all the compartments on it, examining the tool kit that came with it, fiddling around with the battery connections and even checked the fluid levels.  It felt good to get back into it, even if I had not ridden it yet.  Finally, all that done, I secured everything and hopped on.  The key was in the ignition and I was trembling with excitement.  Giddy as a school girl.  I flipped the key and thumbed the starter, counting on the modern fuel injected engine to perform where the older carbureted versions sometimes had not.  It cranked over three times rapidly and roared to life.  I very nearly had an orgasm.
	The bike vibrated under me pleasantly, letting me know it was alive and that I was its Master.  All that leather and metal.  All I needed was the wind in my hair and my life would be complete.  I revved the engine a couple of times, letting it cough out any dry spots in its lines, then dropped it into first while I listened happily to the merry tune it sang.  Potato – potato – potato.
	With a twist of the throttle I was off.  Slowly, just to get a feel for it; but knowing how to ride came back quickly.  The bike weighed over 700 pounds fully loaded, plus my 190 pounds; we had enough combined mass to do some damage.  I did a couple of tours through the parking lot slowly, getting a feel for it, then rolled it around and parked it behind my truck.
	I got my leathers out of my truck and pulled my vest on over my T-shirt.  I was contemplating how warm it was and whether or not I should put the rest of my gear on when I heard the footsteps coming up behind me.
	“Hey!”  I spun around to see Becky standing there, looking extremely fuckable in her sunglasses, black leather boots, jacket, and fingerless gloves. “I thought you’d ditched me.”
	I grinned.  “No way, I just couldn’t wait any more to get the bike.”
	She winked at me and walked over to stare at the bike with me.  “She’s beautiful.”
	I never took my eyes off of Becky.  “You don’t know the half of it.”
	She chuckled and walked away then.  “I’ll be right back,” she said, fishing around in her pocket for the key to her bike.  I nodded and decided that if she was going to wear all the stuff, then by God so was I.
	When she came back it was on the back of her blue tinted Low Rider, which growled like a caged tiger just waiting to be let loose.  I nodded appreciatively and mounted my own ride, letting its throaty engine growl right along hers.  She laughed and took off, leading the way for our evening ride.
	I realized a few minutes later that I was already dead.  There was no other explanation for the way I felt.  I had lived a life of purgatory for the past 14 years, and now I was in heaven.  The wind in my face and the scenery blurring past my peripheral vision.  Gah, what more could there be?
	A few hours later we sat down in a nice mom and pop diner called Sharon’s Café.  Good old fashioned home cooking, none of that pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-digested crap they served at the burger shacks.  Over dinner we talked, dropping tantalizing hints about past experiences and glimpses into what each others life was like.  I left out my current situation, treating Mindy as a thing in the past.  She was, after all.  Was it my fault that she just did not know it yet?
	After dinner there was more riding, though not a hell of a lot.  Enough to get us back to Norwalk.  I was on a permanent high.  The smell of the sea, the setting sun, the beautiful babe riding the bike beside me.  Oh, and the bike I rode, of course!
	I expected to head back to the Harley dealership to get my truck.  I was not sure how I was going to move both the truck and my bike, but I figured I would deal with that later.  Instead, we ended up at her place.  Gee, darn.
	I followed her in, admiring the two car garage and ranch style house.  Located in suburbia, it was just one of the many cloned houses on the outside.  Inside though, it had a definite uniqueness to it.  Her décor was not the typical girly style I was used to.  She was a biker bitch through and through.  Some pictures on the walls of her and friends (on or near bikes), other pictures of bikes, an occasional sign, and other items that reminded me of a biker bar or perhaps a frat house.  As far as I was concerned, this chick had class!
	All of that I took in as quickly as I could.  She handed me a beer and we proceeded to sit on her couch in the living room.  Leather, of course.  Once there, I savored the beer and wondered what I should say, if anything.  She beat me to it by looking me straight in the eye and popping the question I had been wondering myself.
	“What do you want?”
	I exhaled.  What did I want?  Not the nice house, 2 car garage, beautiful wife, and 2.3 kids.  I had given that up earlier that day.  Well, all but the 2.3 kids.  She had her miserable little dachshund of a dog.  God I hated that thing.  I shook my head, clearing it of such thoughts.  Right here and right now was a different ball game.
	I smiled at her, trying for a mischievous look in response to the serious one she wore.  “I’ve already gotten a hell of a deal so far today.  But I’d have to say, to top it all off and make it perfect… You.”
	She laughed.  Not at me, but with me.  There is a difference, I just had never realized it until right then.  “You always get what you want?” She teased me.
	I groaned inside.  I rarely ever managed to get what I wanted, usually it was Her getting what She wanted.  Time for another change.  Time to stand up for myself.  I scooted closer to her until we were close enough that I could reach out and touch her.
	“What do you want?” I countered, speaking softly.
	“Uh-uh,” she shook her head, grinning.  “My place.  My rules.  I’ve got the goods and you’re the one trying to buy them.  Supply and Demand, Josh.”
	I returned her grin, getting into the verbal repertoire.  “You didn’t strike me as being for sale.  I couldn’t afford you if that was the case.”
	“Everybody has a price,” was her response.  She said it in a way that let me know she was interested, but if I were to actually try to buy her, I would be out the door before it hit me in the ass.  “Besides,” she teased, “you just paid cash for your bike, you’re not hurting for money.”
	She had me there.  Well, sort of.  As soon as Her father found out I had left Her, my cushy little job would be out the window.  I expected that would be sometime tonight or tomorrow, if not already.
	“Sorry babe, nobody carries that much money with them.”  I smirked and she laughed lightly.  “Now as to the goods being offered,” I let my eyes roam over her body briefly.  Appreciatively.  “Isn’t the customer always right?”
	“You like to play dangerous, don’t you?” She asked, leaning closer so that only enough space separated our faces to allow our eyes to still focus on each other.
	“I’m tired of playing safe,” I said, staring her down.
	She met my gaze for what seemed like an endless moment.  Then she glanced down at my pants.  Her smile was even better when she looked back up, knowing what she was doing to me.  She leaned closer, her mouth beside my ear and whispered, “You had better tell me what it is you want or you’re going to end up needing a cold shower.”
	She was one hell of a sexy lady, hands down.  In charge and she knew it.  She was right about one thing; that thing she had seen in my pants.  I was tired of words.  It was time for action.  Before she could pull away my hand came up and my fingers slipped into her short hair, holding her head close to me.  I pulled it over and twisted around to meet her.  We were kissing then.  No. we were making love with our tongues.  Oops.  We were fucking each others mouths.
	By the time the kiss ended she had managed to undo the button on my jeans and I had my hands up her shirt, fondling her incredible breasts.  They were not the largest ones out there, far from it in fact, but they were firm and round and filled my palm pleasantly.  What was better was the feeling of her rock hard nipples rolling between my thumb and fingers.  I had not even seen them yet, but I already knew that I would never find  their equal.
	“Woah,” she said, sucking in a deep breath and pulling away.  “We’d better slow down.”
	“That’s a helluva thing to say with my dick in your hands,” I said, in no mood to slow down.  I needed her.  She was the answer to all my problems.  At least for a little while.
	She blushed.  She actually blushed.  Her hands pulled away, leaving my cock prodding out stiffly above my boxers.  Without the heat of her hands it suddenly felt cold.  “Sorry,” she muttered sounding as embarrassed as she looked.
	“Nothing to be sorry about unless you don’t get your ass right back over here and prove to me that kiss was not a wet dream I just had.”
	She laughed, a cross between real amusement and a nervous giggle.  My hands were still up her shirt and under her bra, but in another moment she would have retreated enough to get away from my grasp.  I pinched her nipples in my grip, twisting them slightly and praying I was doing the right thing.  I heard the breath catch in her throat and a second later a quiet moan escaped from so deep in her throat that I barely heard it and she was not even aware of it.  Checkmate!
	She hesitated, she wanted to resume our activities, but still she held back.  I suspected I knew what she needed, but if I was wrong I was looking at a lawsuit.  “What do I have to do?” I asked her, my voice low and husky with desire.  It had been a day full of hormones for me and Becky did not realize just how loaded the gun she was playing with was.  I was ready to shoot off into space.
	Her mouth opened and closed.  She wanted to tell me.  She wanted to tell me how bad she wanted me.  Well, she wanted to tell me something.  It sure looked like she was on the verge of giving me the green flag but still she hesitated.  “Ah hell,” I said, taking my hands off of her and standing up.  I yanked my pants back into position and buttoned them back up.  I grabbed my coat and tossed it over my shoulders.
	“You know what I’m sick and tired of?” I asked, turning to face her directly after I had finished getting myself squared away.  The expression on her face was one of anguish.  This women was a saint and a devil all rolled up into one.  I let it go then, I owed her too much to vent my frustration like some silly teenager.  Frustrations-a-plenty too.  14 years worth, all built up trying to get out.
	I turned and headed towards the door.  She stood up uncertainly behind me and followed me.  “I know what I want,” she said softly, her voice trembling a little.  I turned to look back at her, her arms were crossed over her chest and she hugged herself tightly.  Where had the in control biker girl gone too?
	“Good for you,” I muttered before I could stop myself.  I cursed myself for not thinking before speaking, but it had been a very edge-of-my-seat evening and thoughts were not necessarily the first thing through my head.
	She cringed at my rebuke, looking a little more upset.  Not even ten minutes ago Becky had been the vision of smoldering sexuality.  I could not have kept my hands off her then.  Come to think of it, I had not kept my hands off of her.  That seems to be what had gotten me into my present predicament.  Not that it was much easier right now, I still wanted to wrap my arms around her.
	“Wait,” she said, a hint of desperation in her voice.  My hand hovered over the doorknob.  I let it fall to my side and I turned back to face her.  I moved closer until I towered over her.  Funny, to think of me towering over her when she was almost as tall as I was.  But, the way she was almost cringing and all shrunken in on herself compared to the presence I was radiating given my conflicting emotions did indeed make it seem that I towered over her.
	“I’m sorry.” Her voice still carried the meekness in it.
	“What do you want?” I asked, responding to her earlier statement.  My tone and manner was still insolent and hard though.
	She took a deep breath and looked at the ground between us.  Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to speak.  I was pretty sure I knew what she wanted but without her admitting them, I was not willing to take the risk.  Horned up and full of testosterone from the day, I still had the presence of mind to realize that I had no desire to be somebody’s bitch in prison.
	I let out a quick growl then – yes an actual growl – then turned to the door to leave.  It is amazing how good something so primitive as a growl can make a man feel.  Try it sometime, the trick is in getting in touch with the beast that lies within us all.
	Becky let a small sigh of frustration escape.  She wanted me to stay.  She needed me to stay.  But she could not tell me what she needed.  I had an epiphany then.  She needed me to figure it out for her.  A revelation.  I was a genius!  I was also likely to be serving 7 – 10 years on rape charges.
	I turned back to her.  “Since you can’t make up your mind, get your ass over here.”
	Almost before she realized what I had said she flew over to me, stopping hesitantly in front of me, eyes still downcast.  She was breathing rapidly, like a rabbit spooked by a wolf.
	I stared at her for a minute, slowly realizing that the chances of prison seemed a little bit less likely.  I really was not sure what to do next.  Given my past, it had been years since I had been in a relationship with any semblance of control.
	“Lose the shirt,” I ordered.
	She pulled it up and over her head after only the briefest moment of hesitation.  Her breasts sprung into view, shadowing her barely padded stomach below.  Her bra was still fastened and resting above her twin mounds of beauty, where I had left it before.  It did not look comfortable.
	“Bra,” I said.  It was all I needed to say, she reached behind her and unfastened it, letting it slide to the ground.  Her breathing quickened even more.  Still she stared at the ground.
	“Look at me Becky,” I ordered, my voice a little less harsh then it had been.  What can I say, beautiful boobs have that affect on me.
	She glanced up briefly then blushed and looked back down.  That was unacceptable, great rack or no.  “Bitch, I said look at me!”
	Her head flew up, her lips slightly parted and a red flush spreading across her cheeks.  Her eyes locked with mine and I saw excitement and fear in her expression.  That, and a great vulnerability.  It pierced me, her gaze.  The complexity of it rocked me to my core and made me want to hug her to me and hold her in my arms.  I did not do that, of course, as that would go against what I was working on with her.  But for the record, the urge was there.
	I reached out and cupped her breasts, still gazing into her eyes.  She held her head up more proudly now, almost defiantly.  I rolled her nipples between my fingers and thumb, pinching and pulling on them lightly.  She gasped softly at the sensations.  I pinched harder then, and her breath caught in her throat.  Her knees wobbled a little beneath her.  I just grinned evilly.
	“Take off my pants,” I ordered, pleased that my voice worked as intended.  She was intoxicating me with her submission.
	Her hands flew to my waist and furiously dug to unbutton my jeans.  Finally succeeding, she tugged them down my legs to my riding boots.  Cursing softly, she started working on my boots.  I just watched her and let her, enjoying the view of the smooth skin on her back and the slight bumps her spine made down the middle of it.  Ever so faintly I could see the ridges of her ribs on her sides.  I wanted to touch and caress them, but I knew I could save that urge for later.
	Finally success, my boots had been pulled off and my pants rested in a pile on the floor.  My dick strained against my boxers, causing what I like to think of as a sizeable bulge alongside my left thigh.  She straightened back up and returned to looking at me.  The fear was still there, but it was less forceful now.  In its place was excitement and arousal.
	“Uh-uh, get back down there, I still have some pants on.”
	She sank back down, tugging my boxer shorts slowly down my thighs and gasping when my cock sprang free and nearly poked her in the eye as it jutted out at her.  She licked her lips subconsciously and remembered then her job.  My boxers soon joined the growing pile of clothing.
	She did not stand back up this time, but instead remained crouched, staring at my dick.  For what it was worth, old one eye was staring right back at her!  “Suck it, whore!” I told her, wrapping my hands around her head and guiding it towards my cock.  She did not fight me at all.  It disappeared into her hot mouth without a complaint, being caressed by her velvety tongue.
	I groaned and surged forward, thrusting into her mouth before I could control myself.  She gagged as my cock hit the back of her throat and pulled back a little to keep from retching.  She continued to suck on me though, running her hand up and down the base of my shaft while her lips and tongue worked on the head.  She forced herself deeper down on it after a moment, getting accustomed to my thickness as she went and trying to relax when I hit her throat that time.
	I could not believe it when I felt her swallowing my cock.  My eyes flew open and my hands tightened their grip on her head.  Not forcing her to do anything, just holding her head more firmly to let her know I was in love with her mouth.  I glanced down at her and saw that her eyes were closed as she concentrated on making love to my cock with her mouth.  I wanted to fuck this woman.  I needed to fuck this woman.  But, first things first.
	Her eyes flew open after she had bottomed out, her lips resting in my pubic hairs and her tongue sticking out to lathe my sack with her spit.  I had seen enough porn movies to know that this was indeed possible, but I had never been able to figure out just how it happened.  A hard dick, by its very nature, defies bending.  Yet a man’s dick must bend in order for the end of it to slip down the girl’s throat.  Again I wondered how it was possible, but this time it was happening to me.  She swallowed again, sending waves of pleasure through me that made me forget the how and the why of it.  I had more important things to worry about, such as the gut-clenching sensation that started in my balls.
	The look in her eyes as they met mine was of unbridled lust.  I was on the verge of exploding and she looked so incredibly sexy that it pushed me toward the inevitable that much quicker.  She was still afraid though, I could see it in her eyes.  Her fear was on a deeper level, beyond the fear of anything physical.
	“Bitch, I’m going to come and I’m going to come all over you.  You’re like a she bitch in heat and I’m going to use my come to mark you as my territory!  Make you my bitch!” I growled at her.  More of that growling.  Try it, you will like it!
	Becky sure did.  She swallowed loudly, nearly making my knees buckle, and went crazy on my dick.  It slipped out of her throat when she backed up.  I could feel the pop as it cleared her tonsils.  Then one hand started fondling my balls while the other flew over the shaft of my cock, trying to make me explode into her mouth.  My vision blacked out as the tremors began in my legs.  I stared at her without seeing her, feeling my muscles clench and spasm.  It was a foregone conclusion.
	My spooge rocketed through my dick, each little sperm fighting to be the first one out.  It blasted out, a huge spurt that strafed across her face from chin to nose to forehead.  The next one went lower, landing on her chest.  Her mouth closed over it then, catching the rest of my eruptions as they arched off the roof of her mouth or the back of her throat.  Dimly, through the haze, I realized that her eyes never left mine.
	The fierceness of my orgasm finally left me and I took a stumbling step to keep from collapsing.  My hand grabbed the doorknob for support.  It turned in my hand and Becky’s eyes flew to it in surprise.  I chuckled and made sure it stayed shut.  I turned the deadbolt lock above it next.  She smiled around my cock and slurped on it a few more times before letting it slip out of her mouth.
	She smiled at me again, then opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out.  My come was pooled on it.  A little slipped off the edge and ran over her thick lips and down her chin.  She clamped her mouth shut quickly and reached up to catch the dribble on her finger.  A swallow and then she sucked her finger off as well.  She reached up and began gathering it off of her face, shoveling it into her mouth.  The mere sight of her going after it filled me with the instant desire to be inside of her.  Amazingly, my cock agreed with me and stopped its deflating.  Her eyes got wide as it returned to its former stature.
	I pulled her up and took her over to the sink in the kitchen.  The outside door we had come through led through the kitchen, so it was a short walk.  I grabbed a washcloth off of her sink and ran it under some warm water.  I wiped her face off then, cleaning the leftover remains of my orgasm from her face.  She pouted a little as I did this, but then brightened up when I planted a deeply appreciative kiss on her lips.  I had heard somewhere that cum in the eye stings really bad, and I did not want to force her to endure any undue hardships.
	I pulled her back into the living room.  I yanked my shirt off and by the time it had cleared my head I saw that her pants were halfway down her legs.  Her pussy winked at me from between her legs.  She was trimmed very neatly, and I suspected that if her pussy looked half as good as the rest of her, she was an angel fallen to Earth.
	“Trust,” I said once her legs were free of her jeans.  She looked into my eyes and I noticed that some of her fear had disappeared.  Not some, most.  Maybe even all.  I was not entirely sure what had caused that to happen, but I had a suspicion.  She nodded after a moment and closed her eyes.
	I pushed her then, pushed her back until her legs hit her couch and she lost her balance and fell.  My hands were there before she landed, keeping her safe and laying her on the couch with her legs sticking straight out.  Her breath had come faster but her eyes stayed closed throughout.
	I knelt between her legs and pushed them apart, getting my first look at her nether regions.  Girl juice coated her mound, running down her slit and working its way towards her ass.  Her lips parted as her legs were drawn apart, giving me a glimpse of the succulent pink flesh contained within.  I leaned forward and inhaled her musky scent, reveling in it.  My tongue darted out and tasted her.  It was the nectar of the Gods.  Ambrosia.
	Becky gasped.  Whatever I was doing, she liked it.  I had plenty of practice, on those rare occasions anymore that I could convince Mindy to have sex with me it consisted of me eating her out for quite a while to get her in the spirit of things.  the thought of Mindy made me growl and launch into Becky’s snatch with a renewed fervor.  Mindy was the past.  Before me lay the all-I-could-eat seafood buffet of the future.
	And eat I did.  From probing into her sodden hole with my tongue to lapping away at her pussy like a cat with a fresh bowl of milk.  I nibbled on her clit, teasing it with my teeth and even occasionally biting it a little harder to draw a groan from her.  I nipped at her lips and licked up her juices flowing out of her like a small river.  I even went so far as to rim her asshole, licking up the juices that ran from her pussy back to it, making it wet and slippery.
	By the time I was done she had multiple mini - orgasms on my face, her legs originally pressed so tightly against my head that I feared suffocation, but now they drooped rather limply on my shoulders, relaxed and exhausted.  I grinned and drove her to new distraction with my mouth, locking my lips around her clit and sucking on it.  My thumb ground itself into her pussy while the fingers on the same hand teased and probed at her ass, drawing a new excited gasp of air from her.
	Becky remained silent throughout, enjoying the experience and too caught up in it to say anything.  I determined that would have to change.  My mouth was busy at the moment though, so it would be a lesson for the future.  I continued to stimulate her, bringing her close to a final orgasm before I backed off.  Her body had gotten taught again, keyed up by the passions racing through her.  My own loins ached as well, I needed to fuck this beautiful creature.
	With her on the final edge of ecstasy, I stopped my ministrations.  She whimpered.  It was neat.  An actual whimper.  I just grinned and brought my fingers up to tease her asshole.  It was soaking wet with her juice.  “Do you want to come?” I asked her.
	She gasped for breath, “Please!” She groaned.  I shook my head, seeing her panting and staring at me with the beautiful landscape of her body ranging between us.  The gentle valley between her breasts and the flat plain of her stomach.  Even the rather sparse forest of her equally brunette pubic hair.
	“Is that any way to talk to me?”
	Her breath caught in her throat.  “Please, Sir!”
	I chuckled.  “That’s a little better.  I don’t know if it’s good enough though.”  I paused, enjoying what was going on very much.  My fingers were at her backdoor, seeking entrance.  I decided my course of action.
	“Earn it,” I said, then stabbed her clit with my tongue just long enough to make her arch her back in pleasure.  “Fuck my fingers with your ass!”
	Becky grunted and pushed herself down on my fingers with such strength and speed that I was shocked.  I had two fingers side by side waiting for her, but my arm was not prepared for her to come at me so quickly.  Her ass hit them on target, but it just pushed them away.  Growling herself (hey guys, if you have trouble growling, get your woman to do it, it is very sexy), she reached down and grabbed my hand and pulled it back to her ass.  She tried again, pushing her ass down and pulling my hand into her.  I could not believe it, her ass swallowed my fingers like it was a prize winning bass going after a rubber worm.  Gulp.
	She came right then.  Hard.  Her pussy squeezed out more juice and her sphincter gripped my fingers like a vice.  She howled and threw her head back, riding her orgasm.  I leaned back in and attached my lips to her cunt, flicking her clit with my tongue to prolong her trip to the moon.  It worked.  It worked so well she blacked out.
	Chuckling, I pulled my hand out of her after her body stopped trembling and she lay on the couch limply.  The withdrawal brought her around, and she pouted when she felt my fingers leave their warm resting place.  She let herself continue to slide off the couch until she sat on the floor next to me.  She looked at my cock and saw it leaking precum.  More then just looking, a heavy string of it stretched from the tip of it to my thigh, which it rested against.  Her mouth flew to it, licking the small pool off my leg and then sucking the tip clean.
	As much of a godsend as Becky’s mouth was, I had other plans.  “Bend over the couch, slut!”  She scampered to her feet and then dropped to her knees, laying her beautiful breasts on the couch.  She pushed her ass up as high in the air as she could and wiggled it enticingly.  Mindy had one of those petite asses that looks great but is delicate and soft and fragile.  Becky’s was solid.  Not large or fat, but simply athletic and begging for a spanking.  How could I resist?
	SMACK!
	She yelped, surprised to feel my hand crash into her cheek.  She looked back in surprise, her eyes wide.  I honestly believe that she did not know what to think, other then ‘Ouch! that smarts!’.  Her pussy told another story though.  Already sopping wet and  red and puffy from the thorough tongue lashing I had given it, it began to drool anew.  “Close your eyes bitch and take what sluts like you deserve!”
	She turned her head back around and squeezed her eyes shut, her mysterious desire to obey me overriding her concern for the well being of her ass.  I smacked the same cheek then, spreading the red spot.  My hand sailed in a few more times, alternating ass cheeks and even aiming for where her thighs met her ass.  She stopped yelping after the second one when I told her to shut up and accept it.  Now her ass was red all over and a string of girl cum ran from her pussy down to the rug on the hardwood floor beneath it.
	I pushed my cock up against her pussy lips and teased her with it, mingling my precum with her juice.  She moaned and tried to push back against me.  Uh uh.  Not gonna happen.  I smacked her ass again as punishment and slipped my cock along the length of her slit, getting it lubed up and rubbing against her freshly arisen clit.  She gasped at the sensation and tried to rub against it harder.  That, of course, meant it was time for me to stop doing that.
	I pulled my now wet dick back up behind her and teased her asshole with it.  Her breath caught in her throat and she remained still, waiting to see what I could do.  I smacked the head of my dick against her rosebud a couple of times to tease her, then pointed it down just enough and plunged it home, sliding lock stock and barrel into her wetness.
	It was incredible.  Her pussy was a silk clamp.  I felt complete in her.  I groaned, nearly driven to coming with that first thrust.  Very unprofessional.  She gasped as well, then forgot to breathe.  She ground her hips back at me, making sure I was fully seated within her.
	“Please, Sir,” she whispered looking back at me with an equally pleading look on her face.
	“What?” I gasped, struggling for control of myself now.
	“Don’t move,” she said, eyes closed as she kept her ass pressed tightly against my hips.
	I nodded, unseen to her, and just stayed there imbedded in her.  It gave me a chance to reign in my overanxious testicles and prolong the undeniable pleasure of the moment.  After nearly two minutes of us remaining locked together, enjoying the completeness, I felt her shift a little bit.  It sent fresh waves of pleasure through me.
	“Make me come,” I said, my voice low and husky with desire.  She moaned something and started twisting and gyrating her hips.  My sack rubbed against her clit, keeping her as breathless as possible throughout her gyrations.  The slight revolutions made the hair on my body stand out and my muscles to scream in protest.  I wanted to drive myself into this girl so thoroughly that I would end up rupturing her spleen.
	She reached between her legs then and started fondling my sack, pressing it into her sodden slit.  She added some small thrusts to her movements and I lost it.  The beast I have spoken of rose up within me.  I grabbed her hips and started to pound myself into her, driving so hard I was sure we would both be bruised.  She adapted instantly, slamming her ass back into my hips.  It was over far too quickly for us, yet much more would have seen us collapsed from exhaustion.
	I held on to her hips with a final desperate plunge and felt my seed pouring into her.  Each spurt sent waves of liquid fire through my nerves, causing me to spasm and my vision to swim.  Becky started to call out that she was coming too, but lost her ability to speak midway through and just shivered under me, crying out with little mews with each fresh burst of come that filled her pussy.
	When it was over we both just kind of stayed there, afraid to move and spoil the moment.  Finally my softening cock gave up the battle for me, in spite of how tightly we were pressed together to prevent just such a thing.  It slithered free and lay nestled up between us.  I heard her sigh and I echoed the feeling.  I picked myself up and sat on the couch.  Becky slid down and sat nestled up against my leg for several long moments.  We were both still breathing a little hard and coming to terms with how incredible we felt.
	“Josh,” she began finally, hesitation evident in her voice.
	“Yeah babe?” I asked, my hand resting comfortably on hers where she laid it on my thigh.  She looked up at me and seemed to be on the verge of tears.  I grabbed her and pulled her up beside me, hugging her tightly against me.
	“I never…”she started and stopped, unable to finish it.  Then she laughed a little and wiped her nose.  “I bet you didn’t expect this out of me!”
	I chuckled.  “Not exactly the cocky biker bitch,” I agreed.
	She smiled and looked into my eyes.  “No, not that kind of bitch.”
	I remembered our first bit of fun in the kitchen and felt some things kick off inside of me, putting two and two together.  “But you are my bitch.” I stated, pretty sure that was what she was searching for.
	She smiled and the tears fell free then.  Not sad tears either, but happy ones.  She hugged me tighter.  “Thank you!” She blubbered into me.  I just smiled and held her.
	“I’ve never been like that,” she confessed after a moment of recomposing herself.  “I don’t know what came over me.  But I liked it.  I liked it a lot.  It felt so good to just give in to you.  I wanted you so bad, from the moment you came into the dealership today.”
	“That makes two of us,” I said, rubbing her back.
	“Nothing’s ever been in my ass before.”
	That one surprised me.  The way she had acted made it seem to me like she was a veteran of a few anal campaigns.  “That’s why when you put your dick to my asshole I hesitated.  I was scared.”
	“Don’t you trust me?” I asked her.
	She laughed lightly.  “After what just happened, you can ask me that?”  She looked me in the eyes then and dropped her next bombshell, “I don’t know how this is possible after one day, but it is.  Josh, I’ve shared things with you that have been hidden in my all my life.  Only in my fantasies did I let them come out.  No man has ever seen them.  I gave myself to you and there’s no taking it back.  I’m not just in love with you, I love me being owned by you.  Maybe I’m not firing on both cylinders after that sex, but I feel like I’ve never seen anything clearer.”
	I did everything I could to not crack a head gasket.  She was telling me shit that told me I had gotten in way over my head.  Or had I?  I was crazy about her too.  The sex alone was better then food to a starving man, nevermind how gorgeous she was, her great personality, or the simple fact that she was a biker.
	“This is kind of sudden for you, I know,” she continued, plunging on before I could interrupt to say anything.  “So I’ll let you get out now if you want too.  I’ll be hurt, but I’ll understand.  But if you stay then you have to understand I’m not a one night fuck.  I’m not a part time girlfriend.  I’m laying it out on the table.  If you stay, then I belong to you and you have absolute power over me.  This scares the shit out of me but it feels so goddamned good.  That means you have a responsibility to me.  I will do anything you tell me, it’s up to you to not abuse that.” She paused to let that sink in then said again for effect, “Anything.”
	I took a deep breath and looked at her.  What had I done?  Wow.  This was a teenage boys wet dream.  Most teenage boys would not have the presence of mind to look down the road though.  Phew, what a mess.  Scary thing was, I wanted her.  Not as a possession, not as a collection, and not as a slave, but I wanted her.  I did want to own her.  I wanted to possess her.  I wanted her to be such a part of me that there was no separating us.  I wanted to get the hell out of there and I wanted to get my head examined.
	“You need to know a few things about me.” I was going to lay it out for her and see how quickly she kicked my ass.  She just nodded and stared at me, her eyes an open doorway to her soul.  Goddamn I could get lost in those things.
	“I walked out on my job today.  I have my bike, my truck, the clothes in my truck, my laptop computer, and some cash.  That’s it.  No house or anything.”
	She nodded, “Good, we can stay here.  I love this house, I would only get rid of it if you told me to.  You said you have a masters degree in electrical engineering, I’m sure you can get another job if you need one.”
	I closed my eyes for a moment.  She was so damn accepting, this was going to be difficult.  “Just tell me one thing,” she said after I opened them.  “Tell me you’re not married.”
	There it was.  I saw a vision.  Her hands.  A meat clever.  My penis.  You put them together as you see fit.
	“Yes,” I said, expecting the worst.
	She nodded and looked away from me.  She pulled away and leaned against the end of the couch.  “Get out,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
	“Let me explain,” I said.  Stupid words.  The words of a cheating husband.  The words of a sinner seeking forgiveness and absolution.
	She got up and walked away from me, her sexy ass swaying with each step.  I chastised myself for focusing on her butt, of all things, at that time.  She went down a hallway and slammed a door shut.  She was in her bedroom.
	I sighed.  Way to go Josh.  Fuck.  Way to go Joshy.  I growled at myself (the growling works for and against you).  This beautiful creature that had just sucked and fucked my brains out and offered me her soul on a silver plate and what had I done?  I had used and abused her and now I was casting her aside like a cheap date.
	I got up and walked after her.  I stood outside her doorway and heard her crying softly through the door.  I was going to knock on the door then realized that would do no good.  So then I considered just trying to explain things from there.  In the end I just gave up.  I was a weasel.  I was scum.  I was a bastard with married parents.  I was an asshole.  I deserved to be called Joshy.  I deserved Mindy and the degradations she piled upon me day after day.  I deserved to play tennis with Jacque, her tennis coach that she was banging on the side.  I deserved a cushy job where I accomplished nothing and was not taken seriously.
	I must have been standing outside her door for sometime because suddenly she opened it and stood staring at me.  Her hair was messed up and her face had streaks of tears running down it.  Her nose and cheeks were red and her lips were puffy.  Somehow, she still looked like a $10,000 call girl to me.
	“Get the fuck out of my house,” she said, her voice only barely breaking that time.
	I closed my eyes and nodded.  I turned and started to walk away.  She did not stop me.  She just glared at my back, fighting back the tears that had already come and were sure to come again.  I picked up my clothes in the living room and kitchen and put them on.  That done, I turned to face her where she now stood leaning against a kitchen counter.  I dimly realized that her set of steak knives rested just behind her within easy reach.
	“I –“
	“Was just leaving,” she said coldly, interrupting me.
	I turned around and reached for the door.  I almost left.  I almost unlocked the door and walked out of her life.  Almost.
	“I could do that,” I said, dropping my hand and turning around.  “I could walk out that door and never see you again.  I could go back to Mindy and my old life and dream and fantasize about you for the rest of my life.  I could do that.  I probably should do that, in fact.”
	She was on the verge of tears again and opened her mouth to say something.  I cut her off this time though, on a roll and unwilling to be stopped.  “Shut the fuck up.”  It was another growl.  “I’m not finished!”  Her mouth clamped shut and she listened.  Apparently she still had a hint of submissiveness in her.
	“Or I could tell you that I walked out today on 14 years of misery.  14 years of working for Her daddy so that I could make the sort of money they all thought that She deserved.  14 years of wearing the right clothes, tying the right tie, playing tennis with the right people.  Fuck I hate tennis!  14 years of that skinny bitch that never seemed to need sex.  At least not from me.  Maybe the pool boy got some but almost never me!”
	“I walked out on my job today.  I walked out on Her.  I walked out on Daddy and his money.  I walked out on my life completely.”  I paused and took a breath.  At least I had her attention.  
My tone dropped, I was caught up in the moment and definitely on a soapbox.  “I have roughly $85,000 dollars to my name, most of that in a cashiers check in my wallet.  I have almost nothing.  Nowhere to go and nowhere to stay.  But I tell you what, I am free.  I am the richest man in the world right now and nothing is going to send me back there.  Not some little bitch that thinks she can run my life and control how I eat, think, and shit.  And not some heartbroken girl that thinks she has me all figured out because she wants me to play Top and bottom with her but is jealous of something that in effect no longer exists.  I am moving on with my life and absolutely nothing is going to get in my way.”
	“You can come with me on this trip through life.  It might be easy and it might be hard, I don’t know.  You have a chance right here and right now.   A choice.  It’s up to you.  One time only.  I promise one thing only about my future; I will never be cowed again.  Oh, that and there will always be at least one motorcycle in my driveway.”  The last was my attempt at humor, but considering all that it came on the tale of, I really do not think it came off as well as I had hoped.
	Her lip quivered a little.  Damn, I wanted to hold her and kiss away the tears and the worries.  Damn.
	“I…” She stammered a little, uncertain.  She had just gotten herself hurt.  Hurt very badly, in fact.  From her behavior it appeared she had been hurt by me in the few hours we had known each other more then she had ever been hurt before.  Talk about a charmed life.  Then again, I had never opened my soul up and offered it completely to somebody, expecting them to take care of it.
	“I don’t know,” she whispered.  I had to strain to hear her.  “I’m scared.  What do you think?”
	The decision was made.  I needed her.  Damn her, I had hoped to enjoy a single lifestyle for a while.  Ah well, c’est la vie.
	“You’re my bitch, Becky.  I told you that before and I have no intention of letting you go.  Not now, not tomorrow, not when I find another piece of fluff.  Not ever.  No matter what happens, you belong to me.” I took her up on her offer.  I accepted it because it excited me and because she excited me.  She filled and completed me.  Holy shit was I scared.
	She crashed into me then, balling into my leather jacket.  I held her and hugged her, comforting her while she got her emotions out of her system.  I led her back towards her bedroom.  My clothes hit the floor before too long and we resumed our new relationship, consecrating it in a private ceremony involving lots of sweat and other bodily fluids.
	In the span of one incredible day my life had changed drastically.  From one set of chains to another; at least this time the chains were on both of us.