Sincere apologies for this being so late. I had a hard time getting into the fandom after the series finale and severe writers block that kept me away.
Special thanks to DeDe324 for getting her butt in gear and inspiring me to do the same.
The following covers season two, episode two after Bobby comes home from jail and they throw him a raunchy welcome home party at the club house. I hope you all enjoy!
It really felt like a club party with Bobby back home. The club secretary was on the pool table, face deep in pussy with a pair of thighs muffling his ears. God bless him, he hadn't been in jail long, but Tig understood the needs that arose in men like them after going without a good fuck for even a few days.
Speaking of, the need had been rising in him since he'd gotten up this morning. Knowing that Bobby was coming home was a plus. Welcome home parties were almost equal in reward to patch over parties, over flowing with booze and hot wet pussy galore.
His day had been stressful. Seeing Op in so much pain, helping him to grieve and get out his frustrations over Donna's death had done a number on his psyche. They killed the Spic he and Clay had framed for Donna's murder. It was for Opie's own good. The club's own good. It still had hit Tig hard. He knew he was at fault for his brother's tribulations and keeping this kind of secret was weighing heavily upon him. Burying his cock in a tight cunt would help take his mind off of things for even a little while.
He took a long draw from his cigarette before snuffing the butt on the ashtray to his left and blew out a long billow of smoke, plumes rising around his face in swirling tendrils. He downed the shot of whiskey that had been in his other hand and let the liquid burn away his sorrows before spinning from the bar to weigh out his options. The room was full of sweet butts and hang around's. He just had to pick his poison.
A veritable smorgasbord of women lay at his feet. He may not be a looker, but the kutte was currency enough. In this world, he could snap his fingers and have any woman he wanted. Picking which one of these lucky ladies would be swallowing his dick tonight while being as shit-faced drunk as he was wouldn't be the most difficult task he'd conquered all day.
He wanted something new. There was nothing more exciting than being balls deep in a new cunt. No recyclables for him tonight. His vision blurred, he scanned the room. Four feet to his left. Long blonde hair, decent rack, dressed like a street walker on steroids. She was laughing hysterically at something her friend had said as if she was trying to ignore the fact that he had spotted her. He didn't think he had seen her in the club before, but he could be wrong. He didn't usually look at girl's faces.
He stood and took a moment to study her more, if only to steady his dizziness before approaching her. She had on a short blue shirt, a barely there top, covering her tits and baring every other drop of skin. Black leather boots with tall heels led up to long, muscular legs covered in fishnet stockings. The holes ripped in the hosiery suggested she had already spent plenty of time on her knees. She seemed to have teased her hair and wore enough makeup to be a contestant on RuPaul's show. He reminded himself that he wasn't choosing her because she was a looker. He chose her because she was the closest - the most convenient.
As he approached, a stagger in his cool, languid walk, she caught sight of him and spun around, showing Tig her barely covered ass and her thick, muscular thighs. He could bounce a quarter off of that ass and the thought of tasting it made his mouth water. He continued his pursuit.
He didn't have to use some quick pickup line or pay her empty compliments. He said the first thing that came to mind. "Wanna let me take a shot off that ass, doll?"
She shot him a look over her shoulder but her friend shoved her forward, egging her on. The girl stumbled a bit, almost knocking Tig off kilter in the process. Tig caught her, steadying himself as well and the girl frowned. "Sorry."
"No harm done." He chuckled. "Yet."
The girl's friend laughed. "I'm gonna go grab another drink." She said, excusing herself before walking off.
"She's not coming back." The blonde stammered, watching her friend walk off longingly.
"You wanted her to join?" Tig quipped, raising a brow at her.
"Someone's overly confident." She seethed sarcasm as she took another sip of her drink before sitting the empty glass down. Her body told a different story. She opened her stance, leaning into him, slightly.
"Comes with the territory, doll." He shrugged. "So are you gonna let me fuck you tonight or am I gonna have to move on to the next willing whore?"
She smirked, looking down at his chest, glimpsing at the patch on his right side. "I wouldn't want to disappoint the chapter's Sergeant at Arms, now would I?"
"No, doll. I suppose not." He scoffed, running a hand down his face.
"So, do you wanna go to the back, or -"
"Not exactly what I had in mind." He shrugged. "I was hoping you would climb up on the bar for me."
Her eyes glistened, wide like doe's eyes. "Here, in front of everyone?"
"You wouldn't be the first." He mused, glancing around the room. Juice had some thick, curvy, bottle blonde riding his cock on the leather chair not three yards away from them. Beside him was Half-Sack and some other hang around getting their dick's sucked on the matching leather sofa. Some brunette with saggy tits was working the pole, already down to just a g-string that did little to hide her ample curves and now Bobby was still on his knees, licking the creme filling out of three fat bitches, simultaneously. The room smelled of booze, smoke, and sex. Frankly, they were getting more attention for NOT being naked right now. "You're not scared, are you?"
The blonde shot him a Cheshire grin. "Show me what you want me to do."
Tig couldn't help but cackle. "Knees on the stool, hands on the bar." He nodded to the open seat at the bar just behind them and helped the girl position herself, climbing onto the stool with her heels still on, bending her over so her ass poked out just right and her back arched. When she was contorted perfectly on the seat, he stood back to admire her for just a moment. "Don't move." He stood behind her and grabbed the tab of the zipper on her skirt, ever so slowly ripping it down. He felt her body tense for a moment. "Just a minor adjustment, doll." She was wearing a g-string herself. Black, like the rest of her clothing, sans the skirt which he was now pushing down to her knees, baring her plump ass, marked ever so slightly by the fishnets. He smoothed his hands up her outer thighs flexing his thumbs over her cheeks to watch the flesh dimple beneath his touch.
He motioned to the bar tender with one hand and sank to his knees behind the blonde, his hands digging into her his to stabilize himself through a bout of dizziness.
The man behind the bar grabbed a top shelf bottle of Jack Daniel's Single Barrel and leaned down beside the girl. "It'll feel weird at first." He warned. For a moment, the girl was confused. She had agreed to this thinking Tig was going to pound into her from behind but then the bar keep took the fine whiskey and leaned over her.
The first few drops made her jump, splashing over her creamy flesh and soaking her hose and panties before the flow of liquid thickened, slipping between her spread cheeks, down the crack of her ass and into Tig's awaiting mouth. He hadn't been kidding when he had told her that he wanted to take a shot off of her ass.
The feeling was strange; warm liquid rolling over her skin in amber waves, leaving a tingle in it's wake, bordering on burning pain. The bar tender stopped pouring the whiskey and Tig licked her backside, cleaning the remaining liquor from between the rounded halves of her ass the best he could. He tugged the string of her panties with his teeth, squeezing some of the liquid from the soaked cotton. His teeth grazed over her skin, a stinging bite that left another hole in her fishnets. The Sergeant centered his tongue along the tight little rosebud nestled between her ass cheeks, flicking it playfully. It flexed protectively beneath his touch. His tongue smoothed over her flesh soothingly as he began to stand behind her.
She felt leather flush against her back. His hands stroked her hair, moving it to her other shoulder. He placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned in, his breath hot on her cheek. "The next time I do that, I want your lips around my cock, sweetheart." He growled, nipping her cheek.
She shivered, melting against him at those filthy words. "How?"
"I'll show you." A hint of a smile in his voice. His hands traipsed over her shoulders, down her chest. His thumb and forefinger locked on the tie between her breasts and tugged, pulling the crop top open. The shirt fell off her shoulders and she was kneeling on the stool, in a crowded room, in barely-there panties and a modest black push-up bra.
He turned beside her, his back to the bar, his hands on either side of his hips, gripping the wood. He lifted himself up in a smooth jumping motion and wound up on top of the bar. He spun his legs around so he was fully seated on the smooth top, legs and all. The bar tender gave him a cautious glance, but didn't say anything as the biker lay down on the bar and patted his chest. "Sit right here, darlin'."
The blonde's eyes were like saucers, contemplating if she was really gonna go that far for this Son she had only just met. Before she could fully make up her mind, the dark man held out his hand for her. A moment's hesitation, then the moment was over and she was taking his hand. She was still perched on the stool, so she only had to make a few inches journey to the hard, polished wood precipice. She made the awkward stretch from the bar stool to the bar itself, kneeling on her knees beside Tig.
One hand still laced with his, she leaned back and pulled her skirt the rest of the way off until it followed her blouse in a pile on the sticky floor. Before she lost the nerve, she kicked up a knee, straddling his waist on the open bar. The Son grabbed her other hand, clutching both tight on his chest. "No, darlin'. The other way." He spun his finger, emphasizing the point he was trying to make.
In-dignifying as it was, she obliged, awkwardly re-positioning herself. Facing the other direction, she could get a better view of the scene casting all around her. Naked women, one to two for every lap. They were either being pounded into viciously or they were on their knees for their respective Sons. No shame, no guilt. Just graphic, glorious sex in every corner of the room. In fact, she was the only one still partially clothed. The realization took away some of the tension and left her feeling an odd sense of calm. Don't over think it, just do.
No one was even paying attention to her as she lay flat on Tig Trager's stomach, her tits just above his groin and her feet landing on either side of his face.
Ever the impatient one, Tig rocked his hips upward. "It isn't gonna take it's self out, sweetheart."
She was almost insulted for a moment, then she remembered - don't think. Do.
She propped herself up on her arms, using her hands to undo his belt carefully, teasingly. Task one accomplished, she went for his jeans, opening the button before tugging the zipper down. One more layer down, she was inside his jeans to tug the flap on his boxers open and she reached inside to find his impressive length, hard, throbbing and ready.
A teasing lick at first, tasting him, the very tip of her tongue along the slit in the head of his cock. She greedily cleaned up the singular bead of precome from his dick. His hips jerked and he groaned as her tongue traced along his velvety flesh before she took the tip of his cock into her full lips and took the full length of him into her throat, bobbing her head. His hand tangled in her hair, right at the nape of her neck, using it like a rein, hoisting her back and forcing her to bob her head for him.
Just as she had taken him into her mouth, the warm, burning liquid splashed over her ass again. His hands gripped her, spreading her ass apart, allowing the liquor to begin spilling between the lush expanse of flesh, dripping over her pert asshole and through her sopping pussy lips until it met Tig's greedy mouth with a slurping sound. The shock of the liquid alone made her gasp, almost choking on the Son's cock before she gained composure. She had barely recovered when Tig's tongue shot out, lapping at her cunt with such ferocity that she felt every slip against her throbbing clit through her soaking wet panties.
The blonde moaned approvingly and opened her mouth wider for the Sergeant. She flattened her tongue before licking his shaft from bottom to top. She felt the vein underneath his cock twitch and she moaned approvingly before swallowing him whole again. His hips jerked again, thrusting himself against the back of her throat as her muscles flexed and her tongue swirled.
The whiskey returned. With the shock of that sensation beginning to subside, Tig took the opportunity to shock her again. His thick fingers tangled in her fishnets until they met a satisfying rip, right between her legs. With those out of the way, Tig hooked a finger under her g-string and pulled the piece of fabric away, baring her sensitive center to his waiting mouth.
He didn't tease this time. He had to bury his face between her thighs, lapping at the sopping wetness coating her folds, reveling in the taste: musky, heady, and sharp - like the liquor. He had already brought her to the brink, her body being on edge from the tension in the room - from the anticipation. It was all amplified by the exhibitionism. There was something utterly hot and sinful about doing this in public. It was something she'd never done.
She moaned, her mouth still around his cock. The vibrations made his legs jerked and he gave her like treatment, humming his pleasure against her until she was jutting her hips, thrusting her dripping cunt into his mouth. His lips locked on her clit and sucked hard and she whimpered, drawing out the sounds as she pulled away from his shaft with her lips locked in place like a vice.
His tongue worked its expert skills, swirling languidly around her clit, his nose nudging at her tight opening as he did. He twisted his tongue around the quivering hole, teasingly pushing it in with controlled flicks and she groaned, pushing herself back onto his protruding tongue.
She made sinful noises. She didn't care about the desperation she was exerting. She was solely focused on pleasure.
The last shot poured directly over her puckered hole, a clean hit with her ass completely spread. The disturbance made her whole body jerk, her toes pointing straight, lifting her off the bar a bit and Tig followed close behind, as soon as he'd drained the last few drops of Jack Daniel's. His lips vacuum sealed around her clit as she bucked and groaned above him. She was coming harder than she ever had. The man didn't even know her name, but he was drawing out her orgasm like he knew exactly what nerve to hit, how to play her body like a piano concertist.
She found it hard to focus, her blow job skills wavering as the second orgasm hit her. Every plane of her body, every nerve tingled, tensing, locking. Then it released and she felt light and weightless. Without thinking, her head fell forward, deep throating Tig's cock like before, ending in a loud groan as his seed exploded on her tongue, overwhelming her senses once again. This time, her mind was foggy, her whole body depleted of sense and reason. She lapped at the come until his sizable length stopped twitching in pleasure and swallowed the load. Her head lulled to the side and she just laid there, limp and useless - much like Tig was now.
The biker chuckled lazily. "Fuckin' beautiful, sweetheart." He hummed. "Just give me a minute." He mused, his voice lazy, groggy even.
Mere moments apart, the pair fell asleep, lying on the bar, completely sated.