Slide: Rugged Skulls MC Read online

  Copyright© 2020 by Amy Davies

  Editor - Stephanie Farrant

  Proofreader- Heather Woodman

  Cover design - Designs by Dana

  Formatting - Jessica Ames

  Photographer - Eric McKinney

  Cover model - Dustin

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced without express written permission from the author. This book is the work of fiction, and the product of the authors imagination and used in a fictional manner. Any similarities to any real-life event or person, dead or alive is pure coincidental.

  Contents

  1. Slide

  2. Farrah

  3. Slide

  4. Farrah

  5. Slide

  6. Farrah

  7. Slide

  8. Farrah

  9. Slide

  10. Farrah

  11. Slide

  12. Farrah

  13. Farrah

  14. Slide

  15. Farrah

  16. Slide

  17. Farrah

  18. Slide

  19. Farrah

  20. Slide

  21. Farrah

  22. Slide

  23. Farrah

  24. Slide

  25. Farrah

  26. Slide

  27. Farrah

  28. Slide

  29. Slide

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Amy Davies

  About the Author

  One

  Slide

  The redhaired chick’s head bounces up and down my cock, the sloppy sounds of her mouth moving over my shaft filling the room. I moan and grip her head tighter, forcing her to take me deeper.

  “Oh yeah. Just like that,” I pant out, as my balls start to tighten.

  “Fuck me, her pussy is loose as fuck, brother,” Rookie says, trying to get off so we can fucking bolt our asses out of here.

  I chuckle when I see the girl frown, looking up at me.

  Shrugging, I say, “He always speaks the truth, doll. It’s an Irish thing, ya know. Clearly you’re used to getting plenty of cock.”

  “I thought college girls were supposed to be tight as feck, but bloody hell, I feel next to nothing, and I have a fat cock,” Rookie adds, which only fuels her attitude. She huffs and rolls her eyes. I smile down at her and push my dick further into her mouth.

  Rookie is fucking her over the edge of the bed, forcing her down deeper on my dick. We’ve been doubling up lately, adding some fantasy for these young, prime college girls. No jailbait for us though. Hell to the motherfucking no. I like my pussy legal, shaved, and creamy as fuck.

  Girls like this one always want a rough night with a bad-ass biker, to be able to brag about it to their friends. So why not give her two of us. Besides, we like to brag too—not that we need to. Me and the boys send Snatch-Chats when we fuck. We share pictures of the juicy, creamy, puffy pussies—well, me, Rookie and Sarge do. Magnum, Opal and Edge left the chat, thanks to their old ladies.

  Being buried in random pussy has been my way of life since I was twelve; when I started noticing girls, then woke up one morning and found my dick hard. But seeing my prez and VP settle down has had my thoughts drifting to places I thought I wouldn’t want to visit yet. Fuck, they are at the forefront of my mind.

  I’m closing in on thirty-one, and my brothers are starting to settle down. My blood brother, Cory, who lives in Texas, just told me he has a steady girlfriend, and he’s five years younger than me.

  The girl screams out as her orgasm hits, calling Rookie’s name. Pulling my cock out of her mouth for fear of her biting the sexy fucker off, I jerk him fast and hard until I come over her mouth, neck and chest. Rookie tenses from his end, and I know he’s finished, then he pulls out and removes the condom.

  “Are you going to make me scream your name, Slide? All my girlfriends have told me how good you are with your tongue.” She flutters her eyelashes at me, reminding me just how young this chick is.

  I give her my smirk that I know the ladies love and move fast, flipping her over and burying my face between her thighs. Her pussy is bright pink, swollen and dripping wet. Pulling back, I chuckle at the shaved heart-shape she has in her pubes.

  Now this is one for the Snatch-Chat.

  “Sweetheart, I’m going to take a photo of this greedy pussy to share with my boys in the club. That okay with you?”

  She gives me a tentative nod, biting her lip. Rookie grips her jaw to get her to look up at him.

  “No one will see ya face, sweetheart. It’s just the pussy we share and brag about shagging, yeah?” I swear to fuck her pussy spasms and gushes at his accent. Fucker.

  “Fucking hell, brother, she got extra juicy. Talk more,” I joke, and pick up my cell from the fancy white bedside table, opening the camera app.

  “You like the Irish, sweetheart? I bet I could make you cream your knickers by just talking to ya, couldn’t I?” She nods, and I line the phone up, focusing the camera and taking the perfect shot, just as some silky, creamy, smooth cum drips from her weeping pussy entrance.

  Click.

  I smile and hold the device up so Rookie can see, and he shakes his head at me. He knows I love the creamy pussies. But it’s the shaved heart that has him smiling. These young college girls think it’s cute, but that’s their prerogative, I guess.

  Ignoring the girl, I catch Rookie getting dressed out of the corner of my eye, then pull up the Snatch-Chat and send the picture to my brothers.

  “Slide. Rookie,” the girl says, her voice deep and hoarse. Rookie pulls his cut over his shoulders and adjusts his ballcap before heading for the door.

  “I’m out, brother. I have to get to the studio to check over the new scenes and sort through the last batch of editing with Clyde.”

  “Got it. I’ll finish up here, then I’ll follow you over,” I tell him. He leaves, and I look down at my phone when it buzzes. I laugh when I see Edge’s reply.

  Edge: Jesus fuck, man. Send me something other than cream.

  Sarge: I hope she screamed for you, brother. But maybe try fucking someone your own age for a change.

  Chuckling, I tap out a reply, ignoring the huff of annoyance from the chick.

  Me: Nah, man, you know I like the young, creamy pussy.

  Edge: Damn, I need my own pussy. Why the fuck did I wait so fucking long to claim her?

  Sarge: Stop being a fucking pussy and go to her, brother.

  Me: Hey, fuckers, this group is for pussy. All kinds. Big, small, hairy, bare. Juicy and fucking creamy. Pussy. Pussy. Pussy. This is NOT a Doctor-fucking-Phil group.

  I drop my phone onto the bed before yanking the girl’s ankles and dragging her to the edge of the mattress. Fuck eating her pussy, I need to fuck it and get off so I can leave.

  I need me some fucking coffee to get through the rest of this day.

  “This is going to be fast and hard,” I tell her, as I wrap my dick up.

  Safety first, ladies and gentlemen.

  She looks up at me with eyes as wide as saucers, her cheeks flushed. Her fake tits move with every breath, and I have to say, they look abnormal on her tiny frame.

  Why do girls do this to themselves? For medical reasons, I get it, but damn, ladies, you’re beautiful just the way you are. But hey, each to their own.

  Moving closer, I grip my dick and line it up before slamming into her. I groan because fuck me Rookie was right. This chick is loose as fuck, like she rammed a watermelon up her cooch and stretched herself out. Damn.

  Fuck knows how Rookie got off while fucking her. Maybe he was playing with her clit, and when she orgasmed, she tightened some.

  Light bulb.

  Keeping my gaze locked on my cock sliding
into her, I move my hand to her clit and rub hard and fast. I need her to come so I can.

  “Oh, hell yes. Like that, Slide,” she pants. I have no idea how the hell she gets pleasure from not feeling a cock inside of her. Her poor father would have a heart attack if he knew how his twenty-five-year-old daughter’s pussy is like the Grand Canyon.

  I slide in and out of her, and I can’t help but chuckle at the wording. This is how I got my club name. I was a prospect, fresh out of the Army, and at a bar when Magnum, Sarge and Opal came in. I knew them from the desert days, but I kept my distance. My head wasn’t in the right place.

  They saw me chat up a girl, not even putting any effort into trying to get into her pants. Once I got her where I wanted her, I took her to the restroom and fucked her in the stall. When I came out, the boys called me over. They laughed, and Magnum said, “Damn, man. The way she reacted to you, I bet you could just slide right into her pussy, couldn’t you?”

  The name stuck, and that night I became a prospect.

  The chick’s screams bring me out of my history. I blink down at her, my hips thrusting on their own accord. Pinching her clit, she screams my name so fucking high-pitched I swear dogs can hear it for miles.

  My guess was right. Her pussy spasms around my shaft and I come, flooding the condom. My back arches, my body covered in a layer of sweat.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, as I pull out and flop down next to her. She tries cuddling into my side, and I bolt.

  Have you ever seen a rich, balding, potbellied dude running when he sees a stripper flashing him her tits?

  Funny as fuck.

  But that’s me when the chick tries to cuddle with me. I leap from the bed, dragging my jeans and white t-shirt on, then my boots and club cut. Picking my phone and wallet up, I make it to the door, just as a bright yellow stiletto hits the wall next to my head.

  “What the ever-loving fuck?” I growl, as I turn to her. She’s on her knees at the edge of the bed, clearly fuming; flared nostrils, red cheeks and devil eyes. Fuck me.

  “I am worth more than a quick fuck, Slide. Rookie couldn’t get out of here fast enough, and now you. You need to treat women with fucking respect,” she hisses, and I can’t stop the laughter that breaks free. I quickly open the door, because I know she’ll throw her whole fucking closet at me when I’m finished talking.

  “Oh, darling, I respect the hell out of women. I mean, they run the fucking world. If we didn’t have pussy, who would bring the new generations into the world. As for my brother, he has work to do at the club’s porn studio. Maybe you could go and get a job there. You like to fuck and you’re overdramatic in the sack. You’ll fit right in,” I tell her with a smile, which earns me a growl. Yes, she growls at me. If this was a cartoon, she would have steam coming out of her ears.

  “Fuck you. I will tell my daddy about this,” she screams, her hair flying around.

  “I’m shaking in my fucking boots, babe.”

  With that, I step out of her room, closing the door behind me just as a thump hits the wood. Yeah, she threw something else. Thank fuck it didn’t hit me.

  I jog down the stairs of this glorified sorority house, which is packed with young, fresh pussy. But I stay the fuck away from that shit. The chick I just banged is the head of this pussy establishment. It’s an off-campus type of deal. Daddies with money linked to these girls… all I smell is trouble.

  I hit the bottom of the stairs and walk past two large rooms on either side of the grand staircase, heading for the front door. My gaze flicks to the right as I pass. Call it a delayed reaction, but I skid to a stop and slowly step backwards, craning my neck like that will make me see something more quickly.

  As I stop, they come into sight. Two girls kissing, making out. One girl is touching the other one’s tit and gives it a squeeze. She moans, and my dick likes the sound. Chancing a look up the stairs, I go to step into the room to try and join in. Well, there will be no trying. I mean, I’m Slide, a member of the Rugged Skulls MC.

  With my gaze fixed on them, I move, but a shrill voice stops me. My head snaps in the direction of the stairs, and I see the redhead chick stomping down them.

  “You bastard! Get out. You’re a pervert,” she screams, and I laugh.

  “Hey, I wear the title well, darlin’. And you weren’t calling me a pervert upstairs, when I was fucking you into next week,” I reply, and step toward the door, making sure to keep facing her. You never know when a chick will go banshee and whip out a knife. Bitches be crazy.

  “Oh, believe me, you weren’t that good. I’ve had better,” she snaps, folding her arms and smirking at me, like she thinks she’s hit a nerve. I smile at her again and pull the door open.

  “Yeah, babe, I know. Hell, Rookie knew. We only got off by jerking because your pussy is so fucking used. It was loose as shit.”

  She gasps, as do some of the girls, and I smile to myself, then blow her a kiss. I step out into the Fort Lauderdale sun and head to my bike. I can hear her bitching behind the door, which makes me chuckle.

  Straddling my baby, I kick her to life and ride back to the Tower. I need a shower to wash the entitlement off me.

  Two

  Farrah

  Most people use a laundry room with a washer and dryer. Me, I like hanging my wet clothes on a washing line and letting the sun and fresh air dry them. When my grampa Kenny asked me to move down here to Fort Lauderdale, I practically snapped his hand off.

  I was sharing an amazing condo in Sarasota with my friend Gretchen. We had been college friends, but she got in with a new boyfriend and things went south. To cut the story short, I would pay her each month for rent and other bills, but she wasn’t paying them, and we got evicted.

  My job was amazing. I loved working at the local daycare as their chef, and it was an added bonus that my daughter got to go there while I was working. But without Gretchen to share a place to live, I couldn’t stay down there.

  So, Grampa Kenny offered us to come down here with him, and here we are. He gave me a job and found me this amazing little rental, which is perfect for me and my girl. It also happened to be owned by a friend of his. That’s how I got the rent so cheap.

  It’s a stone’s throw to the beach, close to everything. We’re beach babes; we love the sun, sea, and the sand. Being in Sarasota, we got to use the beach every day if we wished, which we took plenty of advantage of.

  It’s a two-bedroom cottage, with an open plan living, dining and kitchen space. At the moment, everything is white, and I mean everything: walls, floors and ceilings. I brought some of my own home trinkets: photos, plants, and decorations that I’ve picked up on my travels.

  We have some color breaking up all the white with my rugs. I love rugs. Kenny helped me put my floral tapestries around the house, and in my kitchen I added my favorite cotton-rope-weaved dreamcatcher tapestry. In my room, I added my mandala tapestry to my wall, while my daughter has her tie-dye one in her room.

  “Mama, I’m hungry,” comes the sweet voice of my five-year-old daughter, Posey. I smile and walk back into the kitchen of our new home. She’s cute as a button. Wild blond curls, big blue eyes, and sun-kissed skin.

  I lean over to kiss her head, making her giggle, which is the best sound in the world to me. Nothing beats the sound of a happy child.

  “And what would my Posey-pie like to eat for breakfast?”

  “Pancakes and a nana, please,” she asks brightly.

  She knows how to say banana, but she thinks she’s cute when she says ‘nana’. That’s what she picked up in her last daycare. The daycare she’s in now is amazing. They’re all about fun and learning at the same time. They even have beach time on selected days.

  “Okey dokey, artichoke,” I reply, and she giggles.

  I help her to sit on her seat at the small dining table I have in the kitchen, and she gets to her drawings that she loves. Posey loves coloring and drawing, something she gets from both her father and me.

  Posey’s father is in the
Army and is currently home from deployment for the next month. He’s a great man and dotes on our girl. She’s his little ‘shell princess’, as he calls her. I met Chris when we were in community college. I was a free spirit at the time—hell, I am now—but we didn’t date straight away. We became friends, and a few years later, it grew into more.

  I attended art classes because I wanted to make pretty things . I studied pottery and glass blowing, among other things. Being creative is in my blood; both my parents are art professors at different colleges. Both Posey and I will sit for hours making jewelry. Posey likes to make pretty, chunky charm bracelets and add names to them for other children.

  While we were in college, Chris decided that it wasn’t for him anymore and joined the Army. I couldn’t have been prouder. My parents weren’t happy with his choice, but it was his to make. When he came back from his first deployment, we got together, and I was happy as could be.

  When he did come home, we did everything together, but after a while, the time we spent together began to feel more and more awkward. Then I got pregnant with Posey. It was a difficult pregnancy and birth, and Chris wasn’t with me—not that I held it against him. We just weren’t close enough to be a couple. After he came home from another deployment when Posey was eight months old, we spent a long weekend talking. We decided to part ways, but we agreed he would always be in her life, and he has.

  When he’s home, he has her for a few days here and there. He isn’t used to having her around for longer than that. Chris is looking at not re-enlisting when his time is up. He wants to settle here in Fort Lauderdale to be close to Posey. It would also be nice to see him settle down with a woman.