I love Nick, and I would do anything for him. I hope he understands that now. I hope what I did was worth it. I hope he's happy now. I hope everything I did was worth it. I never asked him to join that Bike club. I never thought things would go as far as they did that night. I never thought I would ever let something like that happen. I underestimated The Need. My Need.
Maybe I shouldn't have gone to the clubhouse at all. Maybe I should have learned to say no to him. Maybe I shouldn't have liked it as much as I did. For what it's worth, I really do wish I could regret it. But as much as I love my husband, I'm happier now. I belong to the club now.
I always tried to be the perfect wife. Happy, loving, endlessly supportive. No matter what my husband wanted to do, I stood behind him. That was my job. That was why people got married. For support. Even when Nick decided, in what was obviously a case of early-onset midlife crisis, that he wanted to be a Biker. Even when he, a nerdy white accountant, decided he was going to be the first white member of the local black bike club.
Nick said he liked their bikes better. He also said they seemed more 'chill'. I just think being a scrawny white boy from the suburbs, he just desperately wanted to be cool. He had been trying to join the Knights of the Spade for weeks, but they were just giving him the cold shoulder. He went out, bought a bike just like the ones they rode. He bought new jeans, leather chaps, several leather jackets and vests, but they wouldn't give him the time of day. He even bought me all new clothes and stuff so I could ride with him. He was at a loss, and we were out a shitload of money. I'd almost mustered the courage to tell him to give up on the whole thing. One day, in the middle of August, everything changed. They rode up to him at a gas station and asked him if he was interested in joining up. They said that they'd seen us riding around downtown, and were impressed. I didn't question what had impressed them, not then anyway, I was just happy they were paying attention to him. I didn't know, at the time, that they were only really interested in me. He came home ecstatic, almost jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas. He really was adorable when he was excited.
"Steph! Steph! The Knights!" he shouted.
"What's up, sweetie?" I asked, trying to drum up a little enthusiasm, despite how much he'd been talking about them lately.
"They're going to let me join!" he all but screamed in my face.
"What? Honey that's great!" I said, genuinely happy for him.
"Yeah! They want us both to come out tonight!" He cheered, hugging me tight.
I was too excited to be suspicious at that point. His enthusiasm was contagious. The suspicion came later, admittedly way too late. It was so great to see him so happy. I ran upstairs and started getting ready. I straightened my long, blonde hair, put on my favorite red lipstick, and went with a smokey sort of eyeshadow that I thought would work best with my new leather jacket. I also wore my red bra and thong, because they were Nick's favorites. Tight blue jeans, high black boots, and a white tank-top finished out the outfit. I adjusted the jeans so that I was showing a little of the thong. I wanted Nick to know I was wearing it, and that I wanted to celebrate tonight.
By the time I got out to the garage, Nick was already on the bike and raring to go.
"Damn, Steph, you look fantastic!" Nick said, grinning ear-to-ear.
I smiled, he looked so happy. He was looking at me in a way that, to be honest, I wish he did more often. I thought for the first time that this whole 'Biker Thing' might be good for us. Maybe, just maybe, we'd both get what we needed out of this. Maybe he'd get some confidence out of this.
We rode fast, tearing down the backroads. The sound of his bike surrounded me. The smell of the exhaust filled my nose. I clung to Nick tightly and smiled. I was having a blast. I wrapped one arm around his waist, and moved my free hand over his lap, dancing my fingertips over the modest bulge building in his jeans. There was an ache building in me. A burning need that I knew Nick would never be able to satisfy. My Need.
Nick was a good man, and I loved him, but he did have his shortcomings. Emphasis on short. Nick wasn't bad in bed, but he wasn't good either. It wasn't just his size, though it left quite a bit to be desired. No, the real problem was that he was gentle. We always, and I mean always, "made love". He never intentionally neglected my needs, but he couldn't seem to get my need to be fucked. Nick, in his gentle and often fumbling fashion, didn't understand that sometimes a woman just needs to get fucked.
I felt his little member stiffening, and immediately allowed myself my most common fantasy. Nick, finally understanding what I wanted from him. Nick, taking me hard and fast. Giving me what I need. I knew that I'd only be disappointed, but I persisted. Like I always do. I unzipped his jeans and slipped my hand inside. My mind raced, the fantasy taking over as I wrapped my fingers around his shaft. I squeezed gently and began to stroke. In less than ten strokes, I felt Nick's hot release dribble down my hand. With it, came a sinking sensation of disappointment.
By the time we reached the club, I was awash in commingling disappointment and ravenous Need. The vibration from the seat didn't help my problems much. I was soaking through my blue jeans. I was so fucking horny, I couldn't stand it.
We pulled into the parking lot in front of the clubhouse. There was a circle of bikes parked in the middle, and a group of bulky bikers standing around them. Nick pulled up alongside them, grinning ear-to-ear.
"Hey guys!" He beamed, waving frantically.
"Sup, man." A tall, lanky man said, glancing from Nick to me.
As a matter of fact, they were all looking at me. They gave Nick the once-over, but then they looked me up and down like they were inspecting a new vehicle before purchase.
"Goddamn, Nicky-boy..." Another said, breaking from the pack to walk over to us.
"You really brought the goods." He continued, stepping past my husband and standing close to me.
"Nick..." I started, but was cut off by a deep gravelly voice rumbling out of one of them.
"So... You wanna be a Probie, huh?" The older, grizzled man said.
He was shirtless aside from his open leather vest. His broad body was heavily muscled and covered in tattoos. He had a thick, greying beard and piercing eyes that seemed to stare right through us. His name was Flint, and he was their leader. The Club President. The look in his eyes shook me to my core. Nick took me by the hand and we cautiously approached the older man.
"Yeah... More than anything." Nick said, smiling eagerly.
"And you're willing' to do whatever it takes?" Flint continued, looking past Nick and right at me.
"Definitely... Without question." Nick said hurriedly.
"So you'll take the deal we discussed?" Flint intoned, his eyes not leaving me.
"Uh... Yeah..." Nick said, glancing nervously in my direction.
"Deal?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yeah, think of it as Probie duties." A heavy-set, younger biker standing behind me said with a laugh.
"More like an audition." Another said, grinning at me.
"Casting Chopper!" A stockier man laughed, slapping his knee exaggeratedly.
"Nicky-boy's gonna stay here and clean up the club." The lanky one said, putting an arm around my husband.
"Well... If there's anything I can do to help..." I offered looking around warily.
