I went to get some ink last week as I needed to feel the burn and noticed a bike shop opened next door in the vacant spot. I don’t need to dress like a slut or give blow jobs to get my ink free as quite frankly the little bitches and wannabe’s in shop seem afraid of me. Weather had cooled and I was in high boots, tattered jeans and a new leather jacket over my tank top. An extremely hot and muscled young man was working on a Harley building up a sweat.
I got my Ink and was treated as a queen as usual. What did I get and where? That is none of your fucking business unless you have what I desire. On the way to my tricked out Mustang he smiled at me and came over to admire my car. He tried to make small talk but when I see something I want I don’t do small talk.
We went to a nearby biker bar and tossed down a few. I was dripping wet and so in the fucking mood for some big, thick cock ramming my holes. I take what I want so I put my hand in his jeans. What the fuck? It couldn’t have been but 4 inches. I guess he didn’t get it, or maybe he wanted to see me mad. I excused myself and while he waited found myself a real man, one worthy of this bad bitch.
When I returned I told him he had two choices for disappointing me. One was to get his balls annihilated by my boots, fists and knees and the other was to suck off all the bikers in the club. Want to talk about it some more and the choice he made? Give me a call and I just might spill it all.
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