Page 10 of Roughstock
Phantom lifted his head as I took a seat next to him and sipped on my beer. From my position, I could watch Cheyenne finish her game as well as see the conversation happening between Whistler and Blur. They were the oldest brothers who still wore their colors, and they’d been friends for decades.
“What’s going on with them?” Phantom asked, and I glanced at him.
Speaking with the bottle near my mouth, I replied, “Something’s off, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.”
“Blur and Whistler have always bumped heads, but this seems . . . different.”
I completely agreed with Phantom. Whistler was obviously pissed at something Blur said, but they were keeping their volume too low to eavesdrop. Making a mental note to speak with Whistler privately sometime in the next few days, I glanced at Cheyenne before turning to face Phantom.
“I’m taking Cheyenne to Spearfish tomorrow, so you’ll be in charge until we get back on Friday.”
“Have fun, Roughstock. You and she deserve some time off from all the bullshit,” Phantom suggested, and I knew he was right.
The only times Cheyenne and I were intimate were the quickies we managed to sneak in here and there. Since I took over the Royal Bastards in Rapid City, the stress and worry had been the biggest deterrent, and over the next twenty-four hours, I planned to rectify that.
She walked over to me and placed her hand on my shoulder, letting me know she was done. I knocked fists with Phantom and stood from my barstool. A few brothers glanced in my direction, but none tried to stop us as we walked out of the clubhouse and to my bike. She climbed onto the back of my bike before I got in front of her.
Pulling herself closer to my back, she tightened her legs against mine and wrapped her arms around my waist as I cranked the loud motor. Looking in the rearview mirror, I saw the smile on her face reflecting back at me as I raised the kickstand and pulled out of the clubhouse parking lot.
The eight-mile drive around to the ranch could be cut to less than five minutes if I took the dirt road leading across the clubhouse property to the backside of my ranch, but the road was rutty, and I didn’t want to jostle her too much. Picking up speed as I tore out of the dirt lot, I heard her laughter in my ear as we rocketed through the intense darkness. We were far enough outside the Rapid City limits that the lights didn’t block out the stars overhead, resulting in some beautiful night skies for our drive.
We got to the one stop sign on the road, and I waited for a lone pickup truck to pass. As they approached, I felt her hand slip into the front of my cut as she began to pull my shirt up. Her soft hand pressed against my abs as I pulled away from the stop sign and turned onto the road leading toward the ranch’s driveway.
Feeling her fingers daftly unbuttoning my pants before the zipper came down had me almost closing my eyes in euphoria. My cock grew harder, and she pulled it out and gripped the shaft tightly. On instinct, my hips lifted slightly as I slowed the bike and turned onto the mile-long driveway to the house.
Once I had the bike off the main road, I drove a few hundred feet forward before to a stop. Cheyenne’s hand began to stoke my needy cock as I placed the kickstand down, making sure the bike was steady before turning the motor off, casting us in darkness and silence.
Turning my head, I didn’t need to ask for her lips because they were already there for mine to taste. I lifted my right arm, releasing my grip on the handlebar, and she knew what I wanted. Cheyenne lifted her leg and dismounted the bike, then she stepped forward. Slipping her pants down her legs, she kickedthem off, placed her foot onto the front peg, and swung her leg over, giving me a perfect glimpse of her wet pussy.
When she had both feet on the front pegs and was facing me, I leaned back, giving her room as she took my cock in her hand and slicked it through her pussy lips, slowly sliding her perfection down the shaft.
For a moment, I felt like I’d died and gone to heaven.
Then my angel began to roll her hips, and I knew she was as close to perfection as a degenerate biker like me was ever going to experience.
Chapter 6
Cheyenne
Iknew Trent was stressed, and this was the only thing I could think of to help him relax. Feeling his thickness deep inside me as I rose and lowered onto his shaft was pushing me closer to an orgasm. His hands rested under my ass cheeks as he helped me ride him.
“Fuck, yes. Ride me, baby,” he moaned, and I placed my hands onto his shoulders so I could get better traction.
The faster I fucked him, the faster my orgasm grew in strength until the pleasure erupted from me, nearly splitting me in half as I moaned. “Oh, god.”
“That’s it. Don’t stop,” he urged.
My vision filled with bright starbursts as he came, triggering another orgasm for me. As we reveled in our shared pleasure, I pulled myself closer to him and said, “I love you.”
He leaned back slightly, allowing the moonlight to show his face, and he smiled before replying, “I love you too.”
Knowing we needed to get dressed before one of the ranch hands discovered us, Trent helped me climb off the bike as his cum slipped down my inner thighs. I quickly pulled my panties and jeans back on before getting back on the bike behind him. He cranked the engine, turned on the headlight, and drove at a slower pace down the long driveway leading to the house.
As we got closer, we could hear a few of the ranch hands in the barn, cutting up and laughing. Trent pulled the bike to the bottom of the stairs and killed the motor, allowing the laughter to sound louder in the night air.
He helped me off the bike before pulling me into a tight embrace. I stood being held in his arms for a few minutes, and when a loud voice boomed out of the barn, he turned his head to see what the problem was. Having workers who also lived on the property could sometimes cause problems, and I didn’t interact much with anyone besides the ranch manager, Carl.
“I need to see what’s going on, then I’ll meet you upstairs for bed,” Trent said, and I nodded to him.
