The Outlaws (2 page)

I had been intrigued by them for years, watching them from afar, but never daring to follow any of them anywhere.  I wasn't that stupid.  I mean, sure I had wanted to.  I had fantasized about it many, many times.  I wondered if they had families, other jobs, normal homes that they went to at night.  But even though I was tempted, I hadn't ever followed them because I was too afraid of them.  My fear didn't keep me from watching them from my window though.  That was something I found myself doing a little too often.

I knew from glimpses of the patches on their leathers that the blonde guy was the President and that his name was Jackson.  The man with the dark curls wore a patch that said VP and another that said Trigger.  There were others I had managed to read also – Bear, Chief, Danger, and Spider.  Each one of them wore their leather jackets and vests with pride and they all had a gun in a holster on their sides.  Each of them obviously spent many hours working out, except Chief, who was the oldest of the group.  His long gray hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail every day, and he spent most of his time lounging and drinking beer under a shade tree near the parking lot.  But even Chief had that air of masculinity and danger about him. 

They were all smoking hot and enough eye candy to keep me satisfied for days.   And the danger intrigued me.  Many days had passed with me wishing I had the courage to follow them.  I hadn't found it yet.

I couldn't allow myself to watch them all day, so I turned away from the window and decided to clean my salon and try to brighten things up a bit.  Maybe if the place looked a little more inviting, I would bring in some much needed business.  I started by sweeping and dusting, and after eating lunch I moved on to rearranging the furniture in the waiting area and mopping the floors.  By the time I looked up, the day had passed and it was beginning to get dark outside. 

Everything closed early in this sleepy town, and I needed to stop by the supermarket, so I finished up quickly and turned off the light and locked up.  As I was opening my car, I felt the familiar vibrations  and looked up to see Jackson riding by on his Harley.  He looked over at me and waved as he drove past my car.  My hand slowly trailed up in a half-hearted wave as I stood there in shock for a second.  He had never waved at me before.  He had never acknowledged my existence before, actually.

I got in the car, and backed out of my parking spot.  Jackson was waiting at the stoplight at the corner, and I pulled up behind him to wait for the light to change.  His hands gripped the throttle and brake on his handlebars tightly, and I couldn't help but notice the tight black leather stretching across his broad shoulders.  Wispy locks of blonde hair escaped from the bottom of his helmet. The light was taking forever to change, but I didn't mind.  I found myself wondering what he might smell like.  Whiskey?  Leather?  Motorcycle grease? 

Finally the light changed, and although I meant to turn right to go to the supermarket, I found myself not turning at all and going straight through the light, following Jackson as he sped down Main Street.  It took me a minute to even realize I wasn't going where I had planned, but by the time I did, I was a mile down the road and my car was headed out of town and onto the ramp for the main highway with the tail lights of Jackson's motorcycle leading the way.

Once we merged onto the highway, Jackson sped up and weaved through several other cars ahead of me.  I continued to follow him at a distance, allowing several other cars to get in between us.  I wasn't thinking, I was just driving.  But when it started to dawn on me that I was following someone that I really shouldn't be following, I began to rationalize it to myself.

First of all, he didn't know I was following him.  Secondly, he would never know.  I would just follow him to see which exit he took, and then I would go home.  No harm done.

Except that didn't happen. It was another thirty miles before he finally exited and two cars in front of me took the same exit, so I did the same thing.  I wanted to make sure I wasn't directly behind him, and since there were other cars to block me, I figured I was safe.  When he turned right after exiting, I followed.  It was pitch dark now, and we drove for another mile before he turned off onto a dirt road.  The cars in front of me continued past him, as did I.  I drove until I saw the next dirt road and slowly turned my car onto it. 

I knew I should just turn around and go home now.  I had seen everything I needed to see.  But that evil curiosity was too much for me to resist, so I hid my car by parking it under some trees instead of turning around. 

My heart was pounding in my chest as I sat there in the dark and tried to talk myself out of what I was thinking.  But I couldn't.  Luckily, it was pitch black out.  I could just leave my car here and take a little stroll and see what was down the road he turned on.  He would never see me.  I would just check it out and then leave.  I had come all this way, and I certainly wasn't satisfied with just watching him disappear down a dirt road.

Luckily, it was a warm, clear night.  Tucking my phone and keys in my pocket, I began walking along the side of the tree lined highway towards where Jackson had turned in.  When I reached the road, I followed it slowly.  Tall pine trees lined both sides of the narrow, bumpy dirt road as it curved through the forest.  It went deeper into the forest than I thought, and I was contemplating turning back when I finally saw a faint flicker of light.  When I rounded the curve, I saw a rustic log cabin, completely secluded from the road and surrounded by tall trees.  Yellow light poured out of the open windows, flooding the wrap-around porch and Jackson's Harley parked in front of it.  Crickets chirped through the forest as the smell of fresh pine filled the air.

This was not where I expected a hardened gang member to live.  It was rugged, sure, but it was cozy, homely and inviting.  I felt like I should have come during the day and offered him a pie.  If it wasn't for the bike parked out front, you would have thought his grandma lived here.

I watched from my hiding place in the trees for a while, but became frustrated quickly.  I couldn't see a thing.  The windows were open, but the front windows opened up to a living room and he apparently wasn't in that room.

Carefully, I crept over to the side of the house, doing my best not to step on pine cones or twigs or anything that might make a loud noise, although complete silence was impossible.  Pine needles crunched under my feet with every step. 

Pressing my body against the side of the house, I peered into the first window I came to.  A bathroom. Clean, but obviously belonging to a man.  Nothing but a toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor and a bottle of Old Spice on the counter.  No frilly towels or lace curtains.  Grandma definitely didn't live here.

I crept up to the next window towards the back of the house.  Bright light poured out of it, and keeping my face as hidden as possible, I peeked in.

I almost fell over when I saw the vision in front of me.  Jackson was standing in his bedroom, his black leather jacket thrown over the black bedspread that covered a huge, four poster bed.  His back was turned toward me as he pulled his black t-shirt over his head.  I bit my tongue as the sight of his tattooed back, his muscles rippling under the bright light.  He sat down on the bed and pulled off his heavy black boots.  When he stood up again, he walked closer to the window, just feet from my hiding spot.  I watched wide-eyed and frozen in place, desperately praying he wouldn't see me, as he reached down and ripped open his button-fly jeans. 

I felt like the luckiest woman in the world as he pushed them down over his hips and stood back up.  He wasn't wearing any underwear and his soft thick cock dangled between his muscular thighs.  I felt my pussy contract as I watched him walk right up to the window, now mere inches between us.  When he reached up to smooth his hair, I realized that because of the light in his bedroom, he couldn't see out of the window and was looking at his own reflection.  He wouldn't be able to see me at all!

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until now and I put my hand over my mouth as I took a deep breath, trying to remain completely silent while I did my best not to blink so that I could memorize every inch of his muscular nakedness.  Taught, tan skin stretched across his bulging muscles.  His shoulder were broad and thick, his sculpted chest was covered in fine, curly blonde hair.  My eyes traveled down to his over-defined abs, and followed the thin, dark trail of hair that led down to his huge, breathtaking cock.  It was soft, but impressive even in it's calm state.  I licked my lips, mesmerized by my perfect, private view.

Turning away from the window, he picked up a bottle of beer from the side table, opening it and drinking from it as he sat down on the side of his bed.  He grabbed a joint and a lighter from an ashtray on the table and lit it up, inhaling deeply.  I watched for several more minutes as he sat there silently imbibing and noticeably relaxing with each drink and each hit that he took.  The hard lines on his face began to relax and his shoulders began softening. 

I felt a pang of guilt as I realized I was watching him in one of his most private, vulnerable moments.   The hard, tough guy enjoying a moment of silent relaxation, away from the demands of being the president of a gang of outlaw bikers, a moment of not having to be the invincible man in charge.  It was a poignant moment, and my guilt changed to gratitude as I witnessed the beauty that washed over his face.  He couldn't have been more than 25 years old, and although he was indeed relaxing, there was still a hardness in his blue eyes, a weariness that would probably never disappear.  I almost felt sorry for him.  It was obvious his lifestyle was taking a toll on him.

He reached for the remote control and turned on the television that was mounted in the corner of his bedroom.  Flipping channels, he quickly scrolled past the news and talk shows.  Pressing a few extra buttons on the remote, I almost laughed out loud when I realized he had turned on a porn.  He turned the sound down and I watched through the window as a busty redhead was drilled by two men with huge cocks. 

When Jackson began stroking his cock, I realized I had hit the lottery by choosing to follow him.  I had certainly never expected to be rewarded by this spectacle!  I watched in fascination as his cock grew in his hand, hardening quickly until it was throbbing and engorged as he gripped it tightly in his large fist.  My juices began flowing between my legs and my hand trailed down to press against my clit.  I couldn't help but be aroused – he was so manly, yet beautiful; so dangerous, and yet he seemed harmless from my perch outside of his window.  My body was yearning to be filled with that monstrous, dangerous cock, and yet I knew that would never happen.  This was the next best thing, by far! 

I unzipped my jeans and buried my hand deep inside of my soaked panties, rubbing my slippery pussy furiously as I watched Jackson close his eyes and pleasure himself in the privacy of his bedroom.  I loved the fact that he didn't know I was watching, it was such a rare gift to see him like this.  He stroked himself with focus and precision, his eyes closed tightly, the porno long forgotten as he searched for his release.  His mouth opened slightly as his entire body tensed up before his cock erupted in front of me.

The window began fogging up with my breath, and I moved over, trying to get a better look.  I didn't know the log was at my feet until I tripped over it.  With my hand still buried in my pants, I was unable to catch myself before I fell to the ground, hitting my head on the log with a loud thump and a hearty yell that escaped from my mouth.

I woke up with a start.  Jackson was standing over me, his face a mixture of anger and concern.  My head felt like my brain was trying to escape from my skull.  I tried to raise my hand to touch the hot, wet spot on my forehead, but I met a tight resistance.  When I tried using my other hand, I realized I was tied to the bedposts.   In a panic, I tried to sit up but realized my feet were tied to the other two bedposts.

I was stunned.  My heart began racing, beating against my chest as I wiggled against the restraints and stared up into Jackson's hard blue eyes as he watched me.  The tables were turned and I didn't like it one bit.

“P-ppp-please let me go, please!?”  I managed to sputter out.

He didn't respond.  He didn't blink.  He just kept staring down at me, through me actually.  Just watching me struggle on the bed that was still warm from his body heat.

I couldn't believe this was happening.  What must he think?  I remembered standing outside of his window, watching him orgasm and trying to get closer and that was all.  He must have found me outside with my hand inside my panties – for God's sake!  I was dying of embarrassment!

“Um...p-please, I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean any harm.  If you'll just untie me, I'll leave and I won't tell anyone you tied me up.  Please don't hurt me, please let me go.”