Biker Chicks: An Anthology of Hot MC Romance (18 page)

Spark’s expression doesn’t change. She merely shakes her head.

I turn and look back at the ocean, realizing I’m crying. When Spark wipes the tears from my cheeks, I feel the rough callouses of her hands. I suppose life in the ruins must not be easy.

“How did you manage to avoid execution?” she asks.

“My…brother. My brother is pretty high up in the Authority. And he’s a lawyer. He argued extenuating circumstances, of course, and temporary insanity. And in the end I think they wanted to bury the story. So they voked me, and dumped me just inside the gates to the Pleasures.”

“And how long did you last there?”

“Less than a week. I couldn’t stand to look at women. I saw her wasted eyes in all of them. And I couldn’t go with men. They scare the shit out of me.”

“Lucky for you, most of the residents of the ruins are Culls.”

“Yeah, I kind of wish I was a Cull sometimes.”

Spark lets her hand slide off my cheek, down my chest and into my crotch. She grips my manhood firmly. “That would be a shame,” she says.

Just as my cock starts to respond to her touch, she lets go, turning and facing the ocean again.

“Do you want to hear my secret now?” she asks.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

Spark lies back on the sand, her hands cradling her head, her black curls falling around her face like a storm cloud. “Oh, I want to tell you. You need to know.”

“Okay.”

She takes a breath, looking up at the turquoise and orange sky. “So here’s the thing: when I was born…well, actually for longer than that, for most of my life to be honest…I was a man.”

I listen to the waves lapping for a few seconds. “Okay…I…I thought that was illegal. Changing, I mean.”

“It’s illegal in the free city and in the Pleasures. But out here in the ruins we can do what we like.”

I’ve heard about what she’s talking about, read about it in fact, in one of the more salacious magazines my high school friends purloined from the ruins and passed around. “Doesn’t it involve…like doctors and stuff?”

Spark props herself up onto her elbows, her dark eyes fixing on me. “A cut gang took care of the surgical part of it. Well, some of the surgical part. And they did a messy job but it is what it is.”

“You were a Cull.” A Cull, a young man castrated in the chaos of the Expiation. I rarely encountered Culls in my old life. They work in the Pleasures, but usually only in those corners I never frequented.

“I was a Cull,” Spark says. “But I was different even before that. I never felt right. That’s probably why the cut gang targeted me. I was never destined to be a collector of wives and influence.”

“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. Every other time I’ve met a Cull that’s been my go to phrase. It doesn’t seem quite right.

“Don’t be sorry for me, honey. I’ve been born again as my true self. Plus look at my life. My bike, my sexy leathers, my black market hormones to give me boobs and ass, and I have minions in the ruins just waiting to do my bidding.”

“This is your kingdom,” I say, with a smile.

“I prefer Queendom, but yes. I’m the Queen of the Damned.”

“The Queen of the Free, you mean.”

“That’s the spirit.”

I lie back on the sand next to her, as a sudden lightness comes over me. I really am free. As free as is possible anyway. “What happens if you swim out to sea? Isn’t the mainland only a hundred miles away?”

Spark laughs. “You want to swim a hundred miles? Anyway, there’s a network of Sentinel buoys about five miles out. They send a drone out. It scoops you up if you’re lucky. If you’re not lucky it zaps you and you drown.”

“Shit.”

“No one gets in. No one gets out. Just the way the Authority likes it.” She points to the ocean. “Look.”

I expect to see one of the buoys, but instead I see a little sliver of gold peeking up from below the horizon. The sun is rising. Soon the gold melts over the waves, creating a golden pathway into the sky. I imagine walking along it until I find....what? Heaven? The mainland? From what I remember about geography the horizon is only three miles away. This golden path wouldn’t even get me to the Sentinel buoys.

“Does it bother you?” Spark asks. “That I touched your cock before?”

“Ha!” I don’t know why I laugh. Maybe because that’s the furthest thing from my mind right now. “No. It doesn’t bother me. It didn’t bother me.” I feel myself stiffen, just thinking about her rough hand. “I liked it.”

“And what I told you doesn’t change things?”

“No,” I say, to my surprise. I remember reading those magazines and looking at the pictures and being repulsed. But somehow the reality of Spark fits my mind like a favorite cardigan. “I think it’s better. Free women are always trying to get things, to negotiate a better marriage, an alliance with powerful wives. And women in the Pleasures it’s all about money, their scrabble to get back out into the free city.”

“Neither of those things matters to me.”

“Exactly.”

Spark rolls onto her front, propped up on her elbows. Her jacket edges open enough for me to look into the shallow valley of her cleavage. My cock is rock hard now.

She leans down and kisses me. I gasp with the shock of how good it feels. I kissed my wives, of course, while I was fucking them mainly, but it never felt like this. It’s not that I wasn’t attracted to them—they were all young and pretty enough—it’s that it was unreciprocated. I was kissing them, but they weren’t kissing me. Spark is kissing
me
and it feels phenomenal. I’m so caught up in it that I think I forget to move.

Spark pulls back. “You can touch me, you know.”

That’s all I need. I grab the back of her head with one hand and pull her back down while my other hand slides into her jacket until my fingers curve around her small plump breast. Her nipple hardens under my touch, and I stroke and pinch it. Spark purrs with pleasure.

I gasp as her hand caresses my cock through my pants. Her lips and tongue hypnotize me while she undoes my belt and pushes down my boxers. Then her hand is on my cock, the roughness of her callouses creating blissful friction.

“You’re nice and big,” Spark says on my lips. “I wonder what you’ll feel like in my throat.”

“Oh, fuck…” I say.

She moves down my body, as behind her the sky explodes into a golden dawn more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen. My eyes fill with tears at the sight.

When Spark takes me into her mouth, her full lips sucking, her tongue swirling over the head, her hand squeezing my balls, I lose all sense of time and space. It’s as though I become part of the light sparkling on the ocean, part of the waves lapping on the shore, part of everything I never knew before. She lowers her head, taking me deeper and deeper inside her warm mouth until I feel my cock bend and slide down into her throat.

“God…” I say. A word I haven’t used in years. It means nothing to anyone anymore. Maybe this is the only time the idea of God makes any sense. Spark moves back, then down again, my cock rocking back and forth in her slippery bliss. A fire grows inside me, burning my skin, my blood, my very soul. It swirls like a maelstrom over every inch of my body before gathering in my balls. They throb almost painfully as Spark slips down again, forcing me deep inside her. Any deeper and she would swallow me whole.

I shout incoherently as I come down her throat, jet after jet of searing pleasure shooting from my cock. She stays there, her lips pressed on my pubic hair, squeezing every last drop from me with deep swallows. I lean up on my elbows and watch as she slowly releases me, my glistening cock sliding out inch by inch from her swollen red lips, saliva and cum dripping with it. It seems to go on forever, as though I was so deep inside her we actually become one person.

At last my engorged head pops out. Spark watches it bounce on my balls before leaning down and licking the last of my cum from the slit. Then she grins up at me.

“Do you like to kiss, after?”

“Fuck, yes.”

She straddles me, leaning down to join our lips. The taste of her mixed with my cum makes my heart pound. I sit up with her, wrapping my arms around her body, kissing her as day blooms around us. As she moves on me, pressing down on my still hard cock, the leather of her pants makes a sexy creaking noise. And the waves tumble on the sand in a gentle whispers. A few birds call out in the distance.

I realize the ringing screaming of my daughter’s voice in my head has finally stopped. It bleats once as I think of it, then subsides again.

I’ll never forget, but maybe I don’t have to live it every second of every day. I pull back from Spark, looking at her glowing face, the blue ocean behind her, the bright sky, the golden sand. I see it all, without that terrible scene behind it.

Not forgotten. Stored. Put away. Part of me but not
all
of me.

I’m a little ashamed that sexual release is what it took. That’s seems so primitive, so base, so like a man. But I guess that’s what I am.

A man. A free man.

“Want me to teach you how to ride?” Spark asks. She stands, brushing sand off her butt, looking down on me. The sun behind her makes her hair glow like a halo.

“Are you serious?” I ask.

“Of course. Maybe we can build you a bike. There’s plenty of parts to scavenge. I’d like someone to ride with me. Like a Queen’s guard. Culls are all right but I like…” She bites her lip and looks away, smiling shyly.

“What? What do you like?”

“Cock,” she says with a laugh. “Not critical for guard duty, but helpful for other duties. It’s a rare thing around here.”

I roll up into a kneeling position below her. “At your service my queen.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” She takes my hand and tugs me upwards. “Now come. I’m hungry. Let’s find a few minions to cook me breakfast. You can serve.”

She shoves me back toward the road, where her gleaming ride, and the future, awaits us.

Bibi Rizer
is a mom, blogger, teacher and writer living in the Pacific Northwest. While she’s been writing professionally for many years, romance and erotica are relatively new pursuits.

Bibi likes writing about strong kinky women and brave willing men living in realistic and imperfect worlds.

In her spare time Bibi sings Karaoke and hangs around on film sets with child actors. Having the the firm belief that no one can be too weird or too funny, she happily admits that most of her favorite people and characters are both.

Also by Bibi Rizer

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The Obsidian Stairway: The City of Dark Pleasures – Book I

The Amber Columns: The City of Dark Pleasures – Book II

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The Shield Maiden’s Revenge

Morag’s Honor

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The Birthday Present

Davida Lynn

“It’s something that we’ve talked about for a while now, and after all, your birthday is coming up…”

She gave her man a sly little smile. Hope could look soft when she wanted to.

Trask had a wide eyed look on his face. There wasn’t any point in staying cool. “I’m not going to say no, but are you sure? This is kind of a big deal.”

Hope nodded. “I’m sure. I even have someone in mind.”

“Who?” Trask looked at Hope with more than eager eyes.

“I’m not going to ruin the surprise. You’ll find out in four days.” With that, Hope changed the subject. “It’d be a shame to waste this lovely Sunday.”

“Thoughts?”

She held up her key, a smile on her face. All Trask had to do was nod. He’d never turn down a chance to ride beside his woman. She was right, the day was too fine to waste, and he needed a distraction after hearing Hope’s proposed birthday present.