I heard the roar of the motorcycle and knew right away what had happened. "He got it! Keith got the Harley!" I shrieked and raced for the door.
Artwork (c) 2003 by Rebel Rotica
"Oh, Lord!" was Mom's only response, but she followed me at a much slower pace.
Keith was sitting out in the front drive astride his new motorcycle. His look was now complete, the red bandana rolled into a tight headband around his forehead and short brown hair, mirrored sunglasses below that, his chin stubbled with five-day-old beard, his black leather jacket, his belt thick and black and covered with silver studs, a chain depended from it, reached around to his wallet in his hip pocket. He needed the chain, for his blue jeans were so tight it was like they were spray-painted on his muscled legs, his jackboots were also black leather, they rested on the ground on either side of his new Harley. The motorcycle itself was all black and chrome, both shining in their different ways. New, so new.
"Hey, Keith, hey!" I shouted at him.
Keith looked down at me, lifting the glasses just long enough to see me in the shadow of the porch. "Hey, little brother." Keith was eighteen, nearly nineteen, I was more than ten years younger than him, and had just turned eight.
"You got your new Harley!"
"Give me a ride? Please?"
His glasses went back up over his eyes. "Can't do it." he informed me. "Not in the rules."
Mom had arrived by that time. "You and that damned club." she sneered. "Bad enough it's sucked you and your sister into it. Can't you give Randall one ride on it, just one ride?"
"It's not in the rules, Mom." Keith said. "Can't be in the club if I'm going to break its rules."
"But they don't have to find out about one ride."
"Can't do it."
Mom made a hissed explosion-like sound, exasperation. "Well, it's a stupid rule! You have room on the back of your motorcycle, you could at least let your little brother ride it until you get a" she made little "quotation marks" with her fingers "'bitch' to ride it with you."
"You just don't understand, Mom." Keith said.
"Well, it's your motorcycle." Mom said, turning away. "But I think it's awful mean of you."
"Sorry, little brother." Keith said to me and kicked his bike into life again. Roared off down the road and was gone. I stared after him, with that so-empty seat behind him on his Harley, a seat he would only turn over to one person, the person the seat was named after.
His bitch seat. Which was for his bitch and nobody else.
By custom of his club (motorcyclists all, they eschewed titles for their group, it was just "the club"), they all came to our house to party, a celebration of my big brother's new wheels. Big, studly motorcycle dudes with their bitches, girls with big boobs and big asses and clinging to the man who chose them like a wool sock just come out of the dryer. My brother was there, not attached. He had women talking to him now and then, a few unattached, even, far as I knew. None of them seemed to do it for him, though.
My sister was there, too, she was the bitch of a big bald-headed man named Chuck. She was giggling and whispered in his ear and they got up and went back to her bedroom. Mom had long ago gone to bed and I was supposed to be in bed, too, but I was sitting, watching them from the stairs. When Sis and Chuck squeezed past me, I looked up and when they turned the corner of the hall, I started up after them. Sis' door didn't close properly, I knew, it would shut but not latch. A gentle push would let me see them.
Keith wanted a bitch for his motorcycle. Sis was the bitch of another biker. I figured watching one in action would tell me what Keith was looking for in a bitch. So I slipped over to her door and pushed it quietly open.
Chuck was sitting on Sis' bed. Sis was down on her knees in front of him, working at his jeans. I watched as she got them open, fished inside and pulled out what looked like the biggest, hardest pud I'd ever seen.
"You like that, baby?" Chuck asked my sister.
"You bet I do."
"That's why you're my bitch." Chuck said to her. "You know how to treat me right."
"You know it."
"So get to it."
I watched my sister for a moment longer and then I closed the door again. I'd seen all I needed to see. So that was what a bitch was for!
I went back downstairs and watched Keith. One girl was trying real hard to get to be his bitch from now on, but it was like the harder she tried, the less he wanted to do with her. Finally, she got frustrated, got drunk, and went home with another guy.
About midnight, all the guys were gone, but for my brother. He finished watching the show, turned off the set and got to his feet, unsteadily for he'd been drinking, but he wasn't what you'd call really drunk, either. Coughed in the heavy fog of cigarette smoke that lingered even now and started for the stairs. Saw me perched on the stairs in my pajamas and said, "What are you still doing up? Mom's going to pitch a fit if she finds out."
"So don't tell her."
I followed him into his own bedroom and he turned around, saw me with him still. "What do you want?"
"I want to ride with you, on your bitch seat."
"You know the rules."
"Yeah." I agreed. "Only your bitch can ride on the bitch seat. But do the rules say that I can't be your bitch?"
Keith looked at me, dumbfounded, and then he burst out laughing. "You want to be my bitch, do you?"
"Sure." I agreed. "Why not?"
"Why not?" Keith had taken off his jacket long ago, he was just wearing the rest of his clothing, a white t-shirt now covering his broad, strong chest. The barbells at the foot of his bed had seen years of use, and explained his body, a biker who wasn't in shape was no biker in his book; he sneered at the ones with beer bellies or lard asses. "Because you can't be my bitch. You don't even know what a bitch does, do you?" He turned, chuckling and sat on the bed, pulled his boots off one after the other. That left a pair of sweaty gray socks on his feet.
"Well, they do this." I reached down and he lifted his feet one after another and I peeled his socks off. "Don't they?"
"Among other things." he admitted. He undid his belt and took it off. Handed it to me. "Hang that on the wall over there."
I obeyed and came back. Keith had laid back on the bed, on his elbows that is, and was watching me. "You really want to be my bitch, little brother?"
"Sure." I said. "I know what to do."
I don't think Keith believed that. "So show me what a bitch does for her man."
I half-crawled onto the bed, one foot on the floor and one knee on the bed, and I reached for his fly. Keith watched me as I undid his pants button and unzipped his fly. He watched unconcerned as I opened them outwards and exposed the white cotton of his briefs. He wasn't even concerned as I reached for him again. It wasn't until I was reaching into his briefs and my fingers contacted his cock that he suddenly gasped. I encircled his prick and pulled it free from the briefs to flop out into the light. God, he was bigger than Chuck was! I had an eight-inch, thick-shafted dong in my hand and it was stiffening up fast.
"Oh!" Keith said, well, gasped, a sharp inhale of his breath. "Jeez!" That was exhaled right after.
Then I was pumping on it and it got rock-hard in my grip. "A bitch does this." I said.
"Oh, jeez! Oh, jeez!" Like I say, those weren't entirely words, as much as they were the massive intake/exhale of his breaths, his chest moving up and down as I did it.
"And then she does this." I went on and my lips opened and I slid them over his cock.
"Ooh, hahh! Ooh-hah! Ooh-hah-hoooh!" My lips clenched on his pud and I milked it up and down, my sister's unknown example guiding me well. "Gahhhh, oh, ah, little brother, Randy, gahhh!" Keith moaned.
I did it a while longer, with Keith moaning and groaning at my every move and my mouth got tired in a hurry. I mean, his cock was so big and my mouth just couldn't hang on and keep hanging on! I had to turn loose after a little while and I did and announced proudly, "This is what a bitch does, right?"
"Sure does." Keith agreed. "Do it some more, really milk it for me! Come on, little brother, show that prod of mine some loving!"
I went back to it but my lips were awful tired. I gave up and panted after a time, "Sorry, Keith, I'm tired. I can't do it very long. Guess I'm not much of a bitch, am I?"
"No, no, you're doing good." Keith panted. His face was flushed and his eyes a bit wild-looking. They had that moistness that comes from too much alcohol and maybe some of the smoke in that room hadn't been cigarettes (I hadn't seen anything I knew was marijuana, but that didn't mean it hadn't been in there), but they flashed at me. "You just need to get to the rest of it."
"Rest of what?"
"The rest of being my bitch." Keith gasped. "Shit, I'm so fucking hot! Oh, man!" He paused, then said, "Let's get you and me undressed and I'll show you the rest of it, I'll make you my bitch, Randy, you'll be my little bitch brother, okay?"
"Okay." I agreed. I got undressed, my pajamas not being much to take off, just a t-shirt and a loose-fitting pair of pants and then my briefs. Mostly, I watched Keith. He stood up beside me and his big arms moved in beauty and clutched the bottom of his t-shirt and peeled it upwards. The white cloth reluctantly released his wide-chested form, slowly revealing the rippled abs, the faint bulge of the ribs on each side, and then the large, triangular breasts, flat-topped and decorated with a smudge of brown nipples on each peak. His head caught the neck of the t-shirt then popped free and he was holding the t-shirt over his head, his body brown and buff and beautiful. I wanted to touch that big body, feel it, rub it, over and over and never, never let go of it. His arms lowered over that brown form and then he released it and it fell to his feet. His pants were opened and he shucked them down his legs, showing me the long oval muscles on his hips, and then with the jeans a blue puddle at his ankles, he sent his briefs after them and stood before me in all his unclothed, natural, gorgeous glory, my big brother, my idol and my hero. I eagerly reached for his pud again and felt the thick, sticky mass of it. Looked up at him, holding his cock, and said, "What do we do now?"
"Now you help me grease it up." Keith explained. "I got a tube in my nightstand. Get it."
Puzzled, I complied and held it up. "Is this it?" It said "Luv-Lube."
"That's it." Keith said. "Squirt a bit glob of it out into your hand and rub it all over my pud, little brother."
The stuff was thick and oily, and made a squishy feel as I plied it over his organ.
"That's it, Randy, layer it on nice and thick."
I had to squirt more into my hand, but I soon had his prong a greasy mess. It shone in the light overhead like a piece of yellowish steel.
"Now, lay down on the bed, little brother. On your back, but lift your legs up way high for me." When I did, he crawled on the bed between my legs and caught one ankle in each massive, work-roughened hand. "Now, this is going to hurt a little bit, but don't worry. You can handle it if you really want to. If you really want to be my bitch, you'll be able to take it. Just relax and let me shove it into you."
I didn't fully understand until his cockhead touched my butthole and then I did. "You're going to put your cock in my ass?"
"That's right. And you'll love it if you're my bitch. Are you my bitch, little brother?"
"Yeah." I groaned. "Oh, oh, yeah!" His prick was pushing at my butt, I felt it stretching me as he got a bit of it into me. It didn't go in easy, but Keith did it slowly, and soon I felt the entire cockhead get into me. It was big, bigger than anything I'd ever felt before, but I didn't tell him to stop.
"You got the head of it now, Randy. You're now officially my bitch. Now it's time to take the rest of it as my bitch. You ready?"
"I'm ready." I gasped.
His big dong continued to press into me, and there was pain at every step, but I wasn't giving up now, not that I was now his bitch officially like he said. If Keith said I could take it, I could take it. If I really wanted to. And as I looked at Keith above me, his face softened and sweet and gentle in a way I'd never seen before, I wanted him more than ever.
First Keith got it all the way in, and then when I'd had some time to get used to it, he began to move back and forth. Just a little bit, very gently, but as he fucked at me, his urgency took over and he began to moan and thrust at me harder and harder. But that was okay, he had stretched me out all the way now and nothing he did hurt all that much any longer.
Keith reached under me and lifted me bodily up off the bed, my legs fastened around his waist and he ended up on his knees, holding me in his arms and my butt jammed down on his dick, and him thrusting at me like that, the bed shook like crazy and creaked like mad, but he didn't stop.
I felt my body building up to something. Something I'd never felt before. Something new and incredible. Something...wonderful.
Keith was moving with me like he was riding his motorcycle, I realized. Swaying and moving and thrilling to the vibrations of life and he thrust even harder, his face flushed a deep red color, and he moaned, "Oh, I'm coming, Randy, I'm coming! Going to shoot it into you, baby, all the way in you. Are you ready for it? Ready to be my bitch for sure?"
I felt an electric thrill grab hold of me and I moaned back, "I'm ready, Keith, I'm ready, oh, oh, OH, OH, OH, OH, OH!"
"Ah, ah, GAH-HAH-HUNNNKKK-KUHHHHH!"
And Keith's spunk shot into me for the very first time. All I knew was that I was suddenly getting rush of hot, salty, sticky stuff squirting into me from his cock and I was dazzled from my own climax and I felt those two sensations combine in me and knew that they would be eternally intertwined. I'd never feel the rush of hot jizz into my bowels again without the memory and then the reality of my own orgasm assaulting my senses. I truly was his bitch now, because I needed Keith's sperm to make me come, and I wanted to come again, and again, and again and again!
Keith's fingers dug into my skin of my back, painfully, and I think I did the same to him, for he groaned afresh and the last bits of his ejaculation dribbled out of my ass and over his cock and balls. And it was done and we were a single soggy mess of expended maleness and he fell onto the bed with me in his arms and we bounced about like coins bouncing on a dresser top when tossed there at night. Ting-ting-ting-ring-ting and then we were at rest, still wrapped up in each other but at ease, and panting heavily in each other's arms.
"Oh, God, Randy, you were so fucking hot!" Keith moaned. "You are one incredible fuck."
"Yeah." I said. "I'm your bitch now."
Keith cuddled me tight. "You sure are, because if you think I'm turning loose of you now, you are crazy. I'm going to fuck your ass every chance I get, little brother."
"Great!" I agreed.
Keith pulled the covers over us and we went to sleep like that.
The next day was Saturday and Mom didn't wake us up. She made some comments about me sleeping with Keith but nothing that made it anything more than two brothers sharing a bed to her. Keith answered her, but I didn't really understand either of them, I was too busy staring at Keith, my big brother and now my lover. He was my man and I was his bitch. He owned me now. Yeah!
Done with his breakfast, he said, "Well, I'm going out to ride my hog some more. Come on, Randy."
"You're going to give him a ride?" Mom said, surprised and pleased at the same time.
"Yeah." Keith said.
"But what about your club and its rules?" Mom pressed her advantage.
"They won't say anything." Keith replied. "And if they do...fuck them! My little brother is riding with me from now on. Come on, little brother!"
I ran out after him and he got on his Harley and started it up. "Get on and hang on tight! We got places to go today! And things to do when we get there!"
I jumped on behind him and settled into my seat. The bitch seat. It was all mine now. Keith's strong body felt so good with my arms around him, holding on tight.
And we rode off into the bright new morning together.
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I heard the roar of the motorcycle and knew right away what had happened. "He got it! Keith got the Harley!" I shrieked and raced for the door.