A Careless Bet With Outlaw Bikers
By René St Claire
Aaron and Kristie had been together for just over a decade; they met early in their adult lives and had been devoted to each other ever since. They are a good-looking couple; actually, together they are stunning, but individually they each bought something different to the table. Aaron, with his tall, athletic frame, his broad shoulders and lean, strong build; toned through tennis in his youth; and squash as an adult. He has brown eyes, clean skin, and keeps himself well groomed. On the personality front, he is a little quiet and often lets his wife, Kristie, take the lead. While this means Kristie can choose their path, sometimes she just wants to be
taken
.
Kristie, is truly beautiful; she has a radiance that lights up the room. Her dark hair has ringlets that dance atop her well-toned shoulders, eyes that sparkle with delight, making the green more intense. She has sun-kissed skin, and full lips that curled into a knowing smirk when she is horny. She moved with grace, her body strong and sculpted from years of yoga and barre classes. As a couple, they had built a life that looked architecturally designed, with two beautiful kids, a home in a well-to-do area, and fulfilling careers. But things may have been a little too perfect, and with this perfection, came predictability.
They weren't unhappy, but the groove they found themselves with school pickups, work deadlines, and life admin; has turned into a rut. The passion that had once burned so fiercely between them had mellowed. Their conversations centred around the kids or work, their love-making was humdrum, with Kristie initiating it, then riding Aaron until he came--
if she was lucky, it was after she orgasmed
. But mostly it wasn't. Sex was more about obligation than passion. It wasn't that they had lost the attraction to each other; it was more that they needed an explosion to reignite things between them.
And so, one night, over a bottle of Merlot, then a bottle of Shiraz; alcohol sparked an honest conversation. "Things have got to change." Kristie said bluntly, randomly.
"What do you mean?" Aaron said, a little confused by the vagueness of the context.
"We have turned into old people. It is time to shake things up and step out of the comfortable and into something more exciting." She then added: "Sex is boring, we need to rediscover the thrill of being desired -- of fucking without abandon."
"I see what you mean." Aaron knew that love-making wasn't just something you fell into, it was something you fought for. And their marriage needed a lot more fight.
Upon hearing this, Aaron reflected on their present state.
Maybe he had become boring?
Kristie drove the wildness, and he just rode her wake. But ten years of marriage, two kids, and the grind of daily life had settled over them like an invisible weight, and he allowed it to become an excuse for being lazy in their relationship.
He wanted to do better
. Kristie must have been frustrated for quite some time for her to bring this up. He wondered if she resented him? But when they locked eyes across the table, when their hands met in the middle, he knew there was still a lot of living to be done together, and it needed to start now. There was a hunger for more. A need to remember not just who they were together; but who they had been before life got in the way.
Neither of them was willing to let the other slip away. They knew they needed to shake things up a bit, to try something a bit wilder than drinking a glass of wine on their terrace.
"Want to go out to a bar?" Aaron asks. "I was thinking about that little wine bar, we love so much."
Kristie eyes him carefully: "Isn't that the same as just drinking here?" She scoffs.
"Ok then, what do you propose?" Aaron responds, taking the bait.
"How about we get out of our comfort zones and go to that dive bar by the railway tracks on the edge of town?" Kristie challenges.
"That can be a bit rough, there are always fights there." Aaron replies. "What if there is trouble?"
"You are right, Let's just do the same old boring routine." Kristie says in a disappointed tone, as she looks away.
"Ok. Fuck it. Let's do it!" Aaron says. Kristie smiles and gives him a big hug.
It started as a joke, a half-drunken, reckless dare, fuelled by the over-indulgence of fine wine and an aching desire deep in Kristie's loins. Aaron too had a desire for something different; something he had dared not say to Kristie, because it was too shocking;
in their world it was the pinnacle of taboo
.
That's how they ended up at a dive bar on the edge of town called the The Rusty Nail. The bar truly was in disrepair with its two-toned amber tiling that barely clung to the wall, the hanging awning; and the outside seating area on the sidewalk, was a sea of broken glass. Inside, the air smelt of cheap whiskey, cigarette smoke, and something fried in oil that had probably been sitting there all day. The lighting was dim, the floors were sticky, and the walls were covered in half-torn posters of rock bands and fading dartboards. A jukebox in the corner played an old Johnny Cougar song, barely audible over the hum of drunken laughter.
"This place is kind of rough, and not really our crowd." Aaron whined, as he looked around the room. Kristie ignored him and walked in ahead; her hips swaying just enough to grab the attention of the men by the bar; her black dress did not mesh with the worn-out denim and leather worn by the heavily male crowd. Aaron followed close behind, his sharp gaze taking everything in--nervous, but also intrigued.
Kristie loved the danger and the rawness of this place. Her pussy throbbed beneath her dress, and her nipples stood to attention despite the warm room.
They slid into a corner booth, ordering whiskey instead of wine. It burned going down, but it felt right. Kristie was feeling frisky, and kissed Aaron passionately on the lips, when he returned her kiss she reached down to feel the bulge growing behind his zipper. Aaron took this as an invitation to slide his hand up under her dress, beneath the elastic of her G-string, and onto the fleshy folds of his wife's very wet pussy. They knew people were watching, but this only heightened the feeling for Kristie; so much so that she guided his hand to his clit so she could get the relief she was longing for. For Aaron, he was a little uncomfortable, but loved that Kristie was so turn-on, so he went with it. The tension that had built between them over the years began to unravel with every stolen glance and teasing remark made towards their very public display of affection. When Kristie threw her head back in orgasm, everyone within eyeshot had seen her cum.
"That was hot!" Aaron said, trying to show enthusiasm.
"I need more, way more!" Kristie replied as she sculled her second shot.
By their third round, and more public play, Kristie's eyes flickered to the pool table in the back, where two bikers were finishing up a game.
They were exactly what you'd expect in a place like this; rough, broad-shouldered, a slight beer belly; the kind of men who looked like they'd been in their fair share of bar fights. One of the bikers had a thick beard and sleeves of tattoos running up both arms, his vest covered in patches that showed proud membership of an outlaw motorcycle gang. The other was younger but just as dangerous-looking, had a jagged scar running along his jaw, his leather jacket open just enough to show the edge of a knife holster.
Kristie smirked and nudged Aaron. "Think we could take them?" She wanted to take their game further.
Aaron followed her gaze, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. "At pool? Probably not."
"Good," she said, finishing her drink. "Let's make a bet."
"Nah, they look too dangerous."
"I am going over, come or don't." Aaron reluctantly agreed, not really knowing what she meant by her 'let's make a bet' quip, when she agreed they would probably lose.
A few minutes later, they were at the table, Aaron casually leaning against the edge while Kristie toyed with a pool cue, twirling it between her fingers like she'd done this a hundred times.
"What's the game?" the bearded one asked, his voice a gravelly rumble.
Kristie tilted her head. "Pool. You in?"
The younger biker smirked. "Depends. What are we playing for?"
Aaron arched a brow at Kristie, hoping that she knew what she was doing. She met his gaze, her lips curving into something wicked before she turned back to the bikers. Aaron had always wanted to see Kristie railed by another man; in the deep recesses of his mind he imagined her being ran through by multiple guys; but he was too shy to admit it. This was the longing he had never been able to share with Kristie, he just didn't think she would get it.
"If you win," she said, running her fingers along the edge of the pool table, "I'll kiss you both."
The taller biker let out a slow chuckle, glancing at Aaron. "And you're cool with that?"
"Yes." Aaron said nervously.
"We all saw how fun she is to kiss!" The older one replied.
Aaron just shrugged, his nervous smirk never fading. "We will need something in return when we win."
"And what's that?"
Kristie leaned in, lowering her voice just enough to make it dangerous. "The most expensive bottle of whiskey behind that bar. And a shot of whatever the hell you're drinking--just so we can celebrate."
The bikers exchanged a glance, then grinned.
"It's a bet. You're on." He then put out his hairy hand to seal the deal with a hand shake. "I am Griff, and this here is Jim."
