The Outlaw MC: Bundle Read online

  The Outlaw MC

  Bundle

  By Tanya Colt

  Published by Smutpire Press

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  This is the complete The Outlaw MC bundle. It contains the following stories:

  Bad Boy Blake

  Taken Back

  Lost

  If you enjoy this bundle, why not spend a few minutes browsing over Tanya’s entire naughty catalog at smutpire.com? Don’t forget to sign up for her mailing list too while you’re there! :)

  Bad Boy Blake

  When I married Kevin, I thought that my life was going to change. He had been so amazing in the beginning. I had really hoped that I would find passion with him. Being a school teacher for 6th graders wasn’t the best place to meet guys, after all, and all of the men I met were either married, or divorced with major issues. I was too shy to go out on my own and find something interesting.

  So I read books. I read lots of them. Probably way too many, as I often would spend my weekends at one of the big book shops in the city looking for some new gems to snatch up. There, in the words written on those pages, I would find the romance and passion I so desperately desired, and I would often end up in a solo masturbation session afterwards. Such was the extent of my love life.

  But then I met Kevin. He came into my favorite book store while I was having cappuccino at the downstairs cafe. To me, he was perfect: tall (well, taller than me, anyway), pretty fit, and he had a great smile. He also liked books and could make me laugh.

  Our courtship was fast and crazy, like one of those wild rides in an amusement park. I said yes when he asked me to marry him, probably because I thought that no one else ever would.

  It didn’t take long before it began to fall apart. Even on our honeymoon, we only had sex twice. And we spent a week in Mexico! He admitted to me that sex was not that important to him, and that he liked the company and conversation that came with a relationship the most. I really did try to stick it out—I gave it an entire year.

  I bought sexy lingerie and even a couple of sex toys, but nothing changed the way he felt. And when we did do it, it was more like he was just doing it because I wanted to. There was no passion at all.

  Halfway through the second year, I took stock of my life and told him that I was going to leave him. The only reason that I cried was because of the way he responded.

  “I thought you might, sooner or later,” he said, and that was all.

  That June, I notified the school that I wasn’t coming back. I wasn’t worried about finding a new job. I had spent ten years teaching there; a good reference was almost guaranteed.

  I packed up my things and moved to San Francisco. I was 32, still pretty and not chubby at all. I did Pilates every day. I had a nice, round ass that I’d heard many of the male teachers comment on behind my back, and perfect 32C breasts with the most amazingly sensitive nipples. I just needed to find someone who wanted to touch them.

  Within a week, I had a new job at one of the local school districts. It was an okay area of town, and at least I would be teaching high school kids. I changed my hair, bought some new sexy clothes, and vowed that I would finally start my life on my terms. I had waited far too long for something to just happen to me. I needed to take control.

  Here, I could invent a whole new me.

  One warm Saturday evening, I took a walk down to a bar that I had passed by a dozen times before. It wasn’t the kind of place that you would see packed with the suit-and-tie crowd finishing work, but it wasn’t a total dive, either. It looked like a cool, casual cocktail bar, and I saw lots of couples and singles going in as I stood across the street for half an hour working up the nerve to enter.

  I was pretty surprised as to how busy it was when I finally went in. There was dance music playing, but not so loudly that people couldn’t talk. There were blue neon lights around the floor and ceiling, giving the place a magical sort of glow. I imagined that with my new haircut and makeup. I looked even better in light like that—not that I didn’t look fantastic, anyway.

  I sat at the bar, glancing in every direction at the hot guys surrounding me. There was just something about California men; they were all fit and trim and had great smiles. But after 40 minutes of sitting there, I had trouble making eye contact with anyone. This was all so new to me, and I realized that no matter how much I had changed my style, I was still painfully shy.

  “You’re new here, huh?” the bartender asked me. I jumped at his question. I had been daydreaming about the spunky blond guy sitting down from me.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re new—like new in town, or something?”

  I turned around to look at him. He was really tall, probably 6’2”, and very fit. He had really well-defined arms with huge biceps. He was wearing a tight, black sleeveless shirt that showed off a big tattoo on one arm and another arm completely covered in them. He had a naughty smile and a big flop of jet black hair. He was cute, and the tiniest bit scary-looking.

  “Umm… yeah,” I said feebly, and then recovered. “I just moved in this week.”

  I lied because I didn’t want him to imagine me sitting in my apartment alone for three weeks.

  “But I’ve seen you pass by a few times. Are you sure it wasn’t longer?”

  I was busted. I felt so stupid. I wanted to change the subject, but the bartender must have realized that I was uncomfortable, because he did it for me.

  “I think he’s gay,” he said, pointing to the blond that I had been staring at. “Lots of guys in this city are.”

  “Are you?” I asked, a little annoyed that he was shooting down my option number one. I had almost been at the point where I was going to talk to him.

  “Certainly not!” he laughed. Then he held out his hand. “My name’s Blake, bad boy bartender.”

  I laughed because of the way he said it. He had a certain charm to him, and a very strong grip when I shook his hand. He was well-spoken, as though he had attended a good school or traveled a lot.

  “I’m Melissa,” I said. “So, bad boy bartender Blake—what’s a lady around here drink when she wants to loosen up?”

  “I have just the thing, Melissa. How about I make you a peach sneak?”

  I had no idea exactly what was in them, but they tasted amazing—just like a peach, in fact. I had three of them over a short period of time and quickly found out why they were called peach sneaks. The alcohol in them sneaks up on you, and suddenly, you are totally tipsy.

  “Oh my god, those are a little crazy, huh?” I said to Blake as he made me yet another. “Maybe I should take a break.”

  “Isn’t a peach an amazing fruit?” he said, not bothering to stop pouring. He was doing shots right along with me. “It tastes fantastic. And what does a peach remind you of...?”

  I stumbled around in my mind for an answer

  “A smooth pussy,” he said matter-of-factly. “Which also happens to taste fantastic. Isn’t nature amazing?”

  I must have blushed three shades of red. The drink had already made me quite horny, and at the exact moment that the word “pussy” left his lips, I was thinking about how wet my panties were. Thank god for the blue lighting, or I would have looked even more embarrassed.

  “Don’t you think so?” he went on.

  “Don’t I think what? That nature is amazing, or that pussy tastes like a peach?” I asked, trying to be witty and then wishing I hadn’t.

  “Both, I guess...” he answered. He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Do you like pussy?”

  I blushed even more. There was no way that I was going to tell him that I had once experimented with a friend in high school and had thought about it many times since, though never followed through
on it.

  “Peaches,” I kind of stuttered. “I love peaches.”

  “Cool,” he said and began to take off his apron.

  “I should go, Blake. It was really nice to meet you. But your peach sneaks have gotten me rather tipsy.”

  “I’m just leaving, too. My shift is over. I can walk you home, if you want. Which way are you headed?”

  I thought about it for a second. I knew where this guy worked, and he seemed cool enough, but did I want him to know where I lived? On the other hand, it was late, and I was clearly drunk. I could have just taken a cab, but I was starved for company. Besides, he was cute and sexy.

  “The marina,” I said, hoping he was going that way.

  “Sure, cool, that’s not far. We can walk down along the waterside. It’s always busy down there, so you don’t have to worry that I’m some kind of crazy.”

  It was like he had been reading my mind or something. We walked out of the bar and he had to help me a little. I was wobbly on my new three-inch heels. I had never worn them before, or anything that sexy, for that matter. He held on to me as we walked down a big hill towards the waterside.

  He told me stories and made me laugh. The way he touched me made my panties even wetter, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the peach comment he’d made back in the bar. I wanted to show him mine. I wanted him to touch me all over.

  By the time we got to my house, I had almost worked up the nerve to ask him in, but not quite. We stood at the door to my apartment with me looking up into his eyes. I felt foolish, not able to get the words out.

  “Do you want to...” My voice trailed off

  “Do I want to what?” he asked, leaving me hanging. I knew he could see through my sexy outfit and demeanor. I knew that he was aware that I was quite innocent and shy. But I didn’t want to be. Not anymore.

  “Do you want to eat a peach?” I asked, immediately blushing.

  “Now that is a fine offer that I can’t say no to,” he replied, and helped me with the door.

  I lived on the second floor, and took my shoes off to get up the steps. I was so excited, like a kid at a candy store. This was my first ever guy that I had actually hit on. Well, the first that I had actually asked to come back to my place, anyway.

  As soon as I had shut the door, he pulled my top off. I unzipped my little skirt and let it fall to the floor. I was wearing a lace top bra, stay-up stockings, and little red panties that I had bought, hoping that at some point something like this would happen.

  “Now that is pure class,” he said to me, admiring what he saw.

  I pulled him by his hands into my bedroom and kissed him. He wrapped both hands around me and grabbed my ass while kissing me back. I felt a flood of moisture between my legs as his cock swelled against me in his pants. I threw myself down on the bed and opened my legs. I wanted him to eat my peach.

  He surprised me by grabbing my hips and flipping me over so that I was on my hands and knees. He yanked my panties down roughly and began to lick my soaked pussy from behind. No one had ever done that to me.

  Then he grabbed my ass cheeks, pulled them apart, and stuck his tongue right in my ass. The pleasure was intense. He kept at it that way, alternating between my clit and ass until I was making all kinds of noise and squirming by his tongue.

  “My turn,” he said and stood up behind me.

  By the time I rolled over, legs shaking from the orgasm I just had, he had his pants and top off. He had three more big tattoos emblazoned across his broad, rock-solid chest. He was pure muscle all over, and between his legs was the biggest cock I had ever seen. I took it in my hands, marveling at its girth. He was almost fully hard.

  “Oh my god,” I said without meaning to. I couldn’t even wrap my little hand all the way around it.

  “Like it?” he asked, inching it closer to my face.

  I was overcome with lust and greed. I wanted it in my mouth and in my pussy at the same time. But since that was impossible, I went for what was closer.

  I rubbed it across my lips first just to feel it. A shiny strand of precum hung between my mouth and the head of his cock. I looked up at him with my big, brown eyes and his naughty grin returned.

  He grabbed my head and pushed his cock into my mouth. At first it was easy, but as he moved his hips, it went deeper into my throat, and I almost gagged a few times. But I was loving it; loving the feel of being desired, and the effect that it had on me. I felt more confident than ever before, and it turned me on.

  I reached down and pulled my panties off so that I could open my legs wide and touch myself.

  My saliva was all over his cock and balls, and he took my hands and placed them there, making me stroke him as I sucked him off. Then he pulled out of my mouth and put his smooth shaven balls in my face.

  “Suck them,” he commanded.

  “Please fuck me,” I begged in response.

  He lifted me up and threw me onto the bed, then knelt between my legs and eased his huge cock in to me. It was heaven. My pussy contracted eagerly around it as soon as he entered me. He fucked me relentlessly, his thrusts so forceful they bordered on violent. Just as he reached the peak of his rhythm, he flipped me onto my hands and knees again to mount me from behind.

  I fell into an erotic haze as Blake pounded my cunt. Time seemed to blur, each moment of indescribable pleasure simply flowing uninterrupted into the next. He put me into positions that I had never done before, much less even thought were possible.

  “Please don’t cum inside me,” I managed to say at one point. “I’m not on the pill anymore.”

  “No problem, I’ll feed it to you,” he said, making it sound extra dirty. “But you might want to go back on it.”

  He bucked his hips a few more times, then stood up and then picked me up with him, one hand under each knee, and dropped me on his cock. Each time he lifted and dropped me, my clit rubbed against him, causing my already swollen nipples to get rock hard. He gently bit one as he fucked me, causing me to cum so hard that I saw stars.

  “Ready?” he asked me, though he never gave me the chance to response.

  He dropped me onto my knees on the floor in front of him, and with two or three strokes of his fat, swollen shaft, he began to shoot stream after stream of pearly white jizz onto my face. I had never let anyone do that, but with Blake, I wanted it.

  I opened my mouth like a baby bird waiting for a worm as Blake’s cum splattered against my hair, my mouth and all over my breasts. There was so much of it. I began to wipe it off me, but Blake snarled.

  “No,” he said. “Leave it there.”

  We laid down together on my bed. I was absolutely covered in his juice. I could smell and taste it, no matter what I did or which way I turned.

  He hugged me from behind and I was quite content to just lay there for a while. I’d just had what I considered my first ever really slutty experience with a guy, and I was enjoying the feeling.

  “I have, you know,” I said while he held on to me.

  “Have what?” he murmured into my shoulder.

  “Tasted peach, once. In high school. With a friend. And I’ve thought about trying it again,” I added sheepishly.

  He laughed and squeezed me tight, making some kind of vague reference to being able to help me with that someday. It was over too quickly, and he said he had to go, but he took my number and promised to take me out the following weekend. I didn’t hold out hope for it, but I decided I would go back on the pill the next day anyway.

  He called me the very next day. I was surprised to hear from him so soon. He said that he would like to take me to dinner on Friday and then show me something special afterwards. He wouldn’t give me any clue as to what the special something was, though.

  It didn’t matter. I was hooked on the dirty sex. I had been denied it for so long that I wanted to experience everything all at once. Little did I know at that point what he had in store for me.

  The week passed uneventfully. I bought more nice lingerie, a gar
ter and stockings set, because I knew that he liked it. I did some work around my apartment, in case we came back there again.

  I spent the rest of my time familiarizing myself with the city. I discovered a sex shop not far from where I lived and I bought a new toy and porn DVD, just to get some ideas. It was mostly scenes with two guys and one girl, and my toy got a good workout as I watched it almost every night that week.

  On Friday, he called me at six and said he would be outside in an hour. I had already been ready since noon and was beginning to wonder if maybe I was just a little too eager to see him again.

  When I came out of my building around seven, I was surprised to see him sitting on a big motorcycle.

  “You want me to ride on that?” I asked as he handed me a helmet.

  “Relax, it is completely safe, and you’ll like the way it feels.”

  He was right. The vibration of the big machine had my panties wet before we had even gone two blocks. By the time we got to the restaurant, I had soaked through my panties and dizzy with lust.

  He took me to a Cuban restaurant in the southern part of town. I wasn’t familiar with the area and it seemed a bit rougher, though intriguing and multicultural.

  The food was divine. We talked about silly things and all I could think about was sex. I asked him again and again about the surprise.

  “You trust me, right?” he asked.

  The truth was that I didn’t—not completely, anyway—but I didn’t care. I wanted him to fuck me like that again.

  “Of course I do!” I lied, gripping his hand across the table. “You’ll never guess what I have on under this,” I added with a sly grin.

  “I’m sure that you’ll show me later” he responded with a smirk.

  After dinner, we got back on the bike and drove towards the water. I couldn’t tell the direction exactly because he took so many turns on the way there.

  Finally, we pulled up outside of what looked like an old bar, one that had gone out of business years before. It didn’t look scary, but it didn’t look all that welcoming, either.