Authors: Aria Cuming
The Sons of Bacchanalia
By Aria Cuming
Copyright 2014 Aria Cuming
All Rights Reserved
The Sons of Bacchanalia
I could hear the raucous laughter and cheers even over the noise of the shower. I sighed heavily, irritated by the company as it was already getting late and I had to work in the morning. My best friend, Victoria (whom I call ‘Tori’ for short), had moved in with me just three weeks ago. I was trying to help her financially and get her started in her new job, hopefully getting her into her own place within a month or so. But all she had been doing so far was living off me and partying almost daily. As I dried my hair I cringed as I realized I didn’t bring anything to change in to.
I wrapped my towel tightly around myself and cracked the door, peeking out, hoping for a clean getaway to my room. I was relieved
to see the crowd filing out the front door. I waited until the room grew silent and slowly walked out to my room. Once safely there I shut the door with just enough space to observe my friend. She was in the doorway with a man, his black-leathered arms wrapped around her, with rough hands groping her ample bottom eagerly. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t help watching. His hands went deeper and pulled her tiny dress up over her hips. I could see that she wasn’t wearing panties. He lifted her easily and as her legs spread around his hips he dipped his hand between her cheeks and briefly into the exposed pink flesh. I cast my eyes down and pulled the door almost closed to further conceal myself. As they turned and moved out of view I briefly caught a glance of the back of the man’s jacket. Just above Tori’s legs was a large 69/86 symbol. I assumed it had something to do with the biker gang he was in. I closed my bedroom door and put my clothes on.
Several seconds later the deafening roar of engines shook the house. I crept from the bedroom and peeked through the living room curtains, taking in the bizarre scene of at
least twelve bikers circling my bare-bottomed friend. I cringed as I thought about my landlord who lived above me, and could only hope that she wasn’t home and awake to observe the spectacle. I was angry at Tori for her disrespect, but at the same time I felt a sexual surge of electricity between my thighs. Part of me was jealous. I had the brains and she had the fun. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t attract men, I just had a harder time swallowing the bullshit that went along with the vast majority of them.
I watched as Tori
stumbled towards the house, the roar slowly fading as the motorcycles vanished around the corner. I watched as she struggled to keep upright. Trying to be a role model, I crossed my arms and sternly watched as she drunkenly slid down the door as she opened it. She looked up and me and giggled while teetering into the living room.
, Natasha! Stop! I had such a good time! You want me to be happy, don’t you?
I tried to look disappointed but I couldn’t help softening towards her. Victoria
had lost her virginity at only thirteen when one of her mother’s lovers manipulated her into sleeping with him. She struggled for years to cope with the pain of her memories and only now was she coming out of her shell. I couldn’t hold it against her entirely.
Softening towards her I asked, “Who were those guys?”
She giggled and spoke incoherently.
Her giggling continued as she curled into a ball and fell silent, her eyes closed while her dress was still hiked up to her waist.
I slid down next to her and slowly traced her hair back along her forehead. She was beautiful even like this. Her hair was waist-length, a full, rich, chocolate-brown color. Her body was small like mine and we were both gifted with perky tits and round asses. Her lips were full and pouty and her eyes brilliantly blue. People often said we looked like twins.
Crawling to the couch I grabbed a pillow and blanket and covered her, leaving her as I retired to my own room. I undressed myself and looked in the mirror. I kept coming back to the moment when I saw the
way the big guy lifted my friend. A surge of pleasure ran through me. I tried to ignore the growing jealousy. I was the more responsible one. The one with a career and money in the bank. But something inside of me wanted to be different. To be… her.
I combed my hair
, framing my body beautifully. I pushed my tits forward and turned to the side and admired my backside. My fingers traced down my stomach and around to my butt. Replaying the motion of his hands I closed my eyes and imitated his grip. I felt electricity run through me, my hands working my sensitive flesh roughly. Suddenly I was in his arms, I was kissing his mouth as the cold buckles from his leather jacket teased my bare skin. I gasped as I felt his fingers within me, his thumb playing rhythmically over my fleshy mound. I fell back into my bed and he was on me, tracing my body with kisses and paying extra attention to the responsive insides of his tight thighs. My legs spread on the bed I worked my hips against my fingers as I imagined him creeping closer to my wetness. I could almost feel his strong hands gripping my thighs, spreading me wide as his lips slipped over my clit and his tongue worked inside of me. I cried out, not considering the proximity to my friend sleeping in the other room. Letting go I exploded, my entire body shuddering and convulsing with desperate need. I forced my fingers deeper as my insides took pleasure in being filled.
ng the next day I could hear Tori was already up. I could smell bacon cooking, surely her attempt to make up for last night. Rising slowly I walked to the kitchen and found her still dressed in the skimpy dress from last night.
Her face was smiling and bright and I could see that she was eager to tell me about her night.
“Oh my GOD! Did you see those guys?”
, taking a piece of juicy bacon from the pan.
“Those aren’t done yet. Y
ou’re going to get a worm.”
“Don’t worry about me
, Natasha. It’s you that needs to worry about what you’re going to catch.” I eyed her questioningly, not quite grasping what she meant. An annoyed, half-judgmental look came across my face.
“Oh stop. Anyhow,
those weren’t just any guys. They were the S.O.B.” A smile crept across her face as she watched my reaction.
The S.O.B! Please help me,“ I exclaimed. I thought for a moment that maybe she was just drunk and didn’t fully comprehend what she was saying. “The Sons of Bacchanalia?! I can’t believe you! How can you possibly think hanging around with those criminals is a good idea? They’re dangerous. They’re suspect in half the crimes in this town, not to mention their reputation as drug lords. Fuck, you could likely get thrown in jail for merely associating with them. Not to mention get murdered.”
“Oh Natasha! You are so uptight, live a little. Did you see those bikes? MEOW!”
I could tell that no matter what I said she was going to do whatever she wanted. I learned a long time ago that with Victoria the more I tried to push, the more she resisted. I let it drop. Besides, a strange, small part of me was eager to see them again as well.
I went to work, leaving her to shower and wondering what her day entailed. She had a couple weeks before she had to start her new job, and I had a feeling she was going to fill them with as much mischief as she could get herself in to. I worked at the local hospital’s laboratory, and today I would be stationed in the blood bank, which meant it would likely be a slow day. I plodded through the work, routine, routine, routine. My mind began to wonder and I could feel the heat radiating from within me. I wanted. No, I needed a man in my life. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be treated like that. Lifted, manhandled, groped, and humiliated. All in front of the interested eyes of a dozen other bikers. I pressed forward in my seat, pressing the responsive mound against the cushion. I had been in relationships, quite a few of them, in fact. My last one was almost a year ago, and after being with him I couldn’t stomach most of what the other men I had met had to offer. I was sick of the boyish attitudes, the walk-all-over-me sissy attitudes they all seemed to have. I wanted what my friend had: a real man.
I could feel myself growing wet as I slowly gyrated, my thoughts building with intensity. I closed my eyes, focusing only on the electric growing within me. With a few simple motions I was about to cum when the
trauma pager blasted out loud in my ear, bringing me back to the moment.
The pager read, “Trauma
Critical. Motorcycle vs Pavement. Gunshot wound to the chest. ETA 2 minutes. Blood Requested.” I sprung in to action. I hadn’t had a trauma in a few days and nerves overwhelmed me as I threw together a cooler of blood and fresh frozen plasma. Rushing through the doors of the Trauma Room I recognized the familiar leather jacket and patch that read, “69/86,” in bold colors. A wave of nausea filled me as I glanced around for my friend. Getting a closer look I realized it wasn’t the same guy she had been with, but clearly he was a part of the gang. I felt sick to my stomach for having been day dreaming about getting involved with these men.
The rest of the day passed quickly as I continued to supply blood to this guy. He
was a bleeder, but it seemed that the surgeon had managed to control his bleeding towards the end of my shift, and he would survive. I overheard some chatter in the lab about what was really going on. The rumor was that a drug deal had gone bad.
When I got home there was a huge motorcycle parked in my spot. I was angry. I could feel warmth building in my cheeks as I parked on the street and approached the house. I stopped for a moment and glanced at the bike. It was big, black, with shiny chrome everywhere, and…sexy. I felt the hunger welling up within me again.
, Natasha, get a grip.” I scolded myself. Why couldn’t I control myself? Why was I still eager to see him? I need to be fucked, that’s why. Ugh. I couldn’t deny the words playing through my head, it had been too long. Just as I was pulling my key out the door opened, startling me. I looked up from my purse and was staring at the chest of a very tall, very cute older man.
He looked a bit confused as his eyes rolled slowly over my body, down, up, and finally to my face.
“Who are you? What the hell are you doing here? And where is my friend?”
l me Steel, but my real name is Christian. Things are going down, bad things, and I need a place to lay low. Your friend told us last night that it would be okay to meet up here if there was trouble.”
I started to protest but his eyes were so damned penetrating. I felt like he could see right through me, like he knew what I wanted. I darted between his manly body and the door frame, thinking I would just go to my room, but my foot managed to catch on the door frame and as I fell my hand instinctively reached out and gripped the thick leather slowing my fall as I crashed to the floor. A loud tearing sound filled my ear, and I looked up and saw that I had managed to tear the patch straight from his
jacket. 69/86. My cheeks flushed red as I realized the fool I must look. I started to apologize but was abruptly cut off.
“Sixty-nine, eight-six; a
re you familiar with the term?”
I shook my head as I thought about my sewing kit. I would just sew it back on for him and this whole thing would be forgotten.
I felt a shiver run down my spine and to the space between my legs as his fingers traced along my neck and towards my breasts.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” His voice was gruff and cold.
Gripping my hair he jerked my head back forcefully. I stifled a scream as his eyes locked on to mine, a fiery expression on his rugged face.
“Put out or get out.”
His tone was serious. I felt a wave of anxiety run through me as I processed his forceful directive. Part of me hated feeling so insulted. But another part wanted him badly. I was at once on the verge of protesting while at the same time willing to give in to his every command. I was too weak. My lustful side had won.
“I…I’ll put out.” I blushed instantly.
“On your knees.” He demanded roughly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Show me.”
My eyes never left his as my hands found their way to his hips and unzipped him. I could see his chest expand as a he took a deep breath and steadied himself against the doorframe. I reached ins
ide and easily found his cock: swollen, warm, and rock hard. As I pulled his cock through the opening I could feel myself growing wet with anticipation and lust. Still locked on his gaze I licked my lips and slid them slowly over him. I could see the tension in his body as he watched himself enter my mouth. His hand slid back into my hair and he pulled me forward, sliding himself deeply into my mouth and pressing his hot tip against the tightness of my throat. I pulled back and let him slide me deeper this time. My own fingers danced along my stomach and in to my scrubs, finding their way easily to my clit. I could feel the slickness of my own juices as they coated my fingers with hungry desire.