Lost bangs the gavel. “Church is over,” he declares.
En masse, everyone stands and starts walking out of the meeting room, as normal with the predictable thing on their minds, getting a drink in their hands. I push myself up from the table, not surprised to see Niran waiting for me to stand.
“I went through the inventory earlier. We’re looking good, Brother,” Niran enlightens me, and I’m glad he’s taken the stock check off my hands. Seems like we don’t need to order more ammunition right now. It’s worth keeping an eye on. Brothers use it for target practice most of the time and it’s not unusual to find more than a few rounds missing. The last time we used it in earnest was when we were shutting Alder’s operation down.
“Thanks for doing that.” I give him a chin lift.
“I’m trying to get the brothers to note what they take out, but I think herding cats would be easier.”
I grumble at the laziness of my brothers as I follow the big Black guy out.
Niran’s attention is soon caught by Pennywise, and as he wanders off in that direction. I make my way to the bar, having to wait while Connor, Patsy’s son and our new prospect, is run ragged trying to make sure drinks land in the right hands.
“Whisky,” I tell him when I reach the front.
He puts the bottle of beer he was going to hand me back down. Fuck knows why, but I feel like downing a Jack Daniels tonight. Raising my shot glass, I turn, sipping it gently, and take in the sights. Pearl, one of the sweet butts, is swinging around the stripper pole, and I take a few seconds to admire how her lessons with Alex, Dart’s old lady, have paid off. She’s elegant and so damn fucking sexy. Even an old man like me has to admire her skills as she continues to dance while gracefully stripping her skimpy clothes off. That part of the lesson I suspect, Alex hadn’t demonstrated.
“Enjoying the sights, old man?”
“Less of the old,” I snap at Eva. Eva’s an interesting girl, being a full-time nurse at the local hospital, and part-time club whore. She works both of her jobs enthusiastically. She’s got a son the same age as the VP’s, and somehow, while living apart, shares parenting amicably with her ex. I sometimes wonder how much he knows of her extra-curricular duties.
“You want to go upstairs?” she asks in a sultry voice.
She also knows my preference. I’m too ancient to show my skinny and less-than-perfect ass in public now. Although in days gone by, I was certainly not averse to giving a demonstration to my brothers, showing how satisfying a woman should be done. Nowadays though, I don’t have as much interest in getting off as I used to. Who am I kidding? Sometimes I can’t finish is the polite way of putting it, and the whores here don’t get me so hard anymore.
During my many years at the club, I’ve seen club girls come and club girls go. For a while they join us, sharing their bodies, getting a bed and food for free, and seem to enjoy the loving they get from us bikers. But in the end, they all move on, their dreams of snagging their own old man always failing, as brothers don’t want anything permanent with someone who’s been biblically known by every male in sight. The result is that the club girls seem to be getting younger in direct correlation with how I’m growing old. Eva, who knows the score, who has more respect due to her profession, has stayed longer than most. She’s mid-thirties now, so when I want to shove my dick into a hole, it’s usually hers I go for without having to think I’m baby snatching, though, I can’t even remember the last time I’d been there. Cindy, Pearl and Tits are in their early twenties. I avoid them like the plague, as all they do is make me feel like a dirty old man.
“Nah, not tonight, Eva.” I turn her down, but she isn’t surprised. Eva knows me well and takes no offence at my refusal.
When I was younger, I used sex as a release on almost a daily basis. Now I don’t have the same need or urges anymore. A drink, a good conversation, maybe a game of pool or cards I find just as, if not more, satisfying. Of course, until recently, I spent most of my evenings whiling away the time with Smoker.
Maybe I’ve just become bored with the easy pussy here.
Prez, I notice, is deep in conversation with his old lady, his arm around her, holding her tight to him. As I take another sip of my whisky, I ponder how I never expected him to find his one.
I’d already been in the club as a member for fifteen years or more when Snake had brought him back to the clubhouse. I’m not sure of the whole story there, or how the then VP had come across him, but the handle he’d already picked up had suited him. I’d never seen a man so lost. When I’d gotten to know him, I’d collected bits and pieces and put them together. That his business had failed was common knowledge, but that he'd been burned by a woman was not. Still, he proved himself as a prospect, and when Bird had died and Snake took the role of prez, no one was surprised to see Lost in the VP seat.
Lost, I know, thinks Snake put him there
