It’s Friday night, business is done, so it’s time for partying now. In years past, I’d like nothing more than to fuddle my head with copious beers and sink my cock into any available pussy. It wasn’t unknown for me to have more than one girl in a night, and often more than one together. Now, I don’t bother thinking about it. I can’t be sure if it’s my cock that’s stopped working or if girls young enough to be my granddaughter don’t cut it for me anymore, or maybe it’s the fear I’d not be able to perform as expected from a biker.
When Smoker was alive, I’d normally gravitate to him, drink and shoot the shit. But now he’s gone, it’s our party nights when I most miss him. Lost is only a few years younger than me, but he’s got his old lady, and rightly spends most of his time with her. Bones, now he’s on the brink of getting old like me, but when I emerge into the clubroom, I see he’s got his arm around Eva, and I doubt he’d leave the promise of sex for a few hours conversing with me.
I don’t have it in me to envy him, just mentally wish him well to enjoy it while he still can.
With one less appetite to feed, I make my way to the bar. “Whisky,” I demand when I get there.
Curtis jumps to attention and soon there’s a shot glass in front of me.
“Grumbler? Want me to deal you in?”
A smile appears on my face. Yeah, a game of poker would suit me just fine. Picking up my glass, I take it over to join Brakes, Pennywise and Snips. A few hours later, I’ve a nice mound of notes piling up beside me.
“I’m out,” Snips says, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve fuckin’ cleaned me out, Grumbler. What about you, Brakes?” When he gets no answer, he asks again, “Brakes?”
“What? Oh, I was…” He doesn’t need to complete his sentence.
As one, the three of us turn to see what’s caught his attention. It’s Kink. He’s got two pets tonight. Both naked, both wearing collars, and they’re crawling through the clubroom while he holds two leashes and wields a whip as though he’s driving a chariot.
“They’re wearing tails,” Pennywise notes, unnecessarily.
“Pony play,” Brakes says, knowledgeably.
“Each to their own,” Snips notes, rubbing at his jaw, reminding me I need to mention to Lost that a visit to the dentist is necessary.
A hand lands on my shoulder. Dragging my eyes away from the procession I’d been avidly watching—well, it might not arouse me, but it sure is entertaining—I glance around and see Token. He’s holding a note in his hand which he passes to me. “Only one Alicia Styles of that age in a local high school. Here’s her address.”
I don’t bother asking how he got it, knowing there’ll be more than one high school database he hacked into tonight. Luckily, the nosy fuckers at the table with me are still intent on Kink’s latest pets, and not on Token or me. I don’t think they’ve even noticed he’s arrived. Brakes is unashamedly stroking his dick through his jeans.
“Thanks, Brother.”
“Anything you need help with?” Token offers.
I stand, slipping the piece of paper into my pocket, and slap his back. “Nah, I got this.”
Walking away from the table, I notice the hours have flown past. It’s far too late to pay Mary a visit tonight. A biker turning up at this late hour would not go down well, and anyway, I’ve had a few too many whiskies to ride. Deciding I’ll go and see if I’ve got the correct address first thing in the morning, I take myself off to bed, noticing as I get to the foot of the stairs that Niran’s surrounded by a bevy of girls—not unusual. He’s tall and striking looking, and while he’s got a prosthetic leg, he’s still gets a lot of interest from the simpering hangarounds wanting to find out if the rumours about black cocks have any truth in them. While he’s candid about the reason he’s a magnet for the girls, he’s never told me, and I’ve never asked whether they’ve got their facts right.
Presumably, the whisky’s relaxed me and as soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out like a light.
It’s another day of cloudless blue skies when I awake. I go through my morning preparations, throwing on the nearest clean t-shirt to hand, then, after making myself a quick breakfast, head out to my bike. I wheel it out of the parking spot in between the other bikes, then taking a rag out of my saddlebag, wipe off the dust that’s settled overnight. It’s early, most of the other brothers were partying late, making me remember I’m the oldest one now, so no one else is about. Suits me fine. And though I had a few whiskies last night, I didn’t overindulge so I’ve escaped the hangover as well.
I’ve already checked out the address I’m headed for. Having lived in San Diego all my life, I know the locale and don’t need to have my GPS as a guide. After standing back for a second to admire the sun glinting off my beloved Harley, I swing my leg over the seat and settle in for the short ride. Maybe later when I return, I’ll see if Niran wants to head out on a longer run. That’s if he’s recovered from last night. I grin. Enjoy being young while you can, Brother.
I’m glad I’m on the bike as the traffic is already building. Even so, it takes me an hour to cover the distance that a few years ago would only have taken me half of that. Idly I wonder whether Mary’s a San Diego native, or a newcomer like so many are. Not that anything about her really interests me, it’s any knowledge she’s got about the damn photographer that’s my object today.
The house
