Biker Bitch
By
Michele Nylons

Chapter Twelve: The Last Ride

Cassie lay on top of Natalie, rubbing her erect penis on Natalie’s mons through two layers of satin panty.

“If you come before you put that in me I’m going to make you pay bitch,” Natalie reached down and squeezed Cassie’s penis and smiled up at her lover.

“I know it drives you wild; I can feel you getting wet through your panties,” Cassie grinned down at Natalie and then she kissed her.

Natalie was on the verge of coming herself, Cassie’s penis was pressing against Natalie’s mound, forcing her labia open and rubbing on her clitoris through layers of slinky fabric.

“Fuck! Put it in me you bitch,” Natalie freed Cassie’s erection from her panties and pulled the sodden gusset of her own panties aside.

She arched her back and lifted her groin, impaling herself on Cassie’s long, hard cock.

“Oh,” both Cassie and Natalie shuddered as Natalie’s cunt grasped Cassie’s cock.

Cassie began to slowly fuck Natalie, grinding her pubis into Natalie’s mons to ensure her clitoris was being stimulated.

Natalie pulled Cassie to her and kissed her passionately; she writhed underneath her transsexual lover. Their legs intertwined, their sheer nylon stockings rubbing together whispering and sending little shards of pleasure through their bodies.

“Fuck me honey! Fuck me hard and make me come!” the wantonness in her voice was palpable.

Cassie returned Natalie’s kiss and then she lifted Natalie’s legs in the crook of her elbows to fully expose Natalie’s groin and began to slam her cock in and out Natalie’s sodden sex. Natalie screamed with pleasure and Cassie drove herself deep inside Natalie and ejaculated.

Natalie raked her nails down Cassie’s back and locked her legs around her waist and thrust herself upwards so that she could grind her mound into Cassie’s groin, increasing the pressure on her clitoris. She writhed and moaned as she climaxed and Cassie sighed as her cock convulsed and ejaculated deep inside her lover.

The two lovers clung to each other, writhing and moaning as they orgasmed.

Later they spooned and nuzzled.

“I don’t know what to do about you Cassandra Rivers,” Natalie said stroking Cassie’s thigh.

“Why is that Special Agent Styles?” Cassie turned around and met Natalie’s gaze.

“Because I’m pretty sure I love you,” Natalie’s eyes began to tear up.

“I know I shouldn’t because I am your supervising Agent. I know I shouldn’t because I know you love being a patched member of an Outlaw Motorcycle Club. I know I shouldn’t because I know your past; I know so much about your past and what you’ve been through and I’m not sure that you could ever reciprocate my love for you,” she stroked Cassie’s face.

“You forgot to mention that you shouldn’t because I’m a tranny whore,” Cassie whispered.

Natalie sprang up on her elbows and slapped Cassie hard across the cheek.

“Stop that! How can you talk about yourself that way! You know that’s not true!” Natalie was infuriated.

“You helped make me what I am,” Cassie murmured.

“I’m not ashamed; it’s just what I am,” Cassie said pragmatically.

Natalie pulled Cassie close to her and hugged her.

“No, that’s what you present to the world to survive. Underneath all that you are caring and loving; a lost soul but worthy of redemption,” Natalie kissed Cassie’s forehead.

“So what are we going to do? Get married? Raise a family? Maybe you quit the FBI and I quit the Beasts of Burden and we elope and live happy ever after,” Cassie said cynically.

“I don’t know what we do in the future; I just know what we do for now,” Natalie pulled Cassie’s face to hers and kissed her softly on the lips.

“Fuck! This would be so much easier if I didn’t love you too,” Cassie stroked Natalie’s face tenderly.

They cried in each other’s arms, they hugged and consoled each other, and then they made love again, this time tenderly.

Meanwhile at the J. Edgar Hoover Building in Washington DC the newly sworn in FBI Director was issuing a memo to all Special Agents In Charge to justify any ongoing operations that had been running for over a year and had an operating budget of over a million dollars.

Natalie Style’s SAC forwarded on a summary of the ‘Biker Bitch’ operation to the FBI Chief of Staff. The FBI was under pressure to cut expenses and make immediate significant arrests that would keep the Senate Oversight Committee happy. It was decided that there was enough evidence to round up and prosecute several high-ranking members of the Medici Cartel, the Kansas City Mafia, and Outlaw Motorcycle Clubs.

Despite Natalie Styles’ pleas to her SAC she was directed to wrap up her undercover operation, make as many arrests as possible and offer her undercover operative entry into the witness protection program or cut her loose but under no circumstances was the operative to be informed until the arrests were made.

“Those fuckers!” Natalie dropped her cigarette on the pavement and crushed it with her heel.

Natalie was standing in a bitterly cold and windswept deserted car park. She heard the rumble of Cassie’s Harley and put on her game face.

Cassie parked her bike, took off her lid and sauntered over to Natalie. They kissed passionately; they hadn’t seen each other for two weeks.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Cassie grinned.

Natalie was not smiling.

“Uh ho? Give it to me babe, what suckworthy mission do you have for me now?” Cassie was still grinning.

“We’re rounding them all up Cassie. I have teams in KC ready to take down the mob guys there and simultaneously hit the Medusa Casino in Las Vegas. The Sisters of Satan will likely walk free; they’re just collateral damage but their Casino is toast,” Natalie began.

“We are going to take out Diego Martinez, Carlo Ramirez, and hit all their drug houses, their gun stashes and their people-smuggling safe houses. This is it. This is what we’ve been working for.”

“But I thought you were happy taking out the peripherals and hoping to get more Intel so you could take out some Cartel kingpins higher up the food chain?” Cassie looked perplexed.

“Look Cassie; orders are orders. In the end we all just do what we are told,” Natalie snapped.

“Ok babe, I get it. But what about the Beasts of Burden? What about me?” Cassie asked, the concern evident in her voice.

“We’ll leave the Beasts alone; you will still be useful to us,” Natalie lied.

“But I still don’t understand. How will our MC be useful? We’ll be broke with no income from the Cartel and the Mob. We’ll scramble for existence and idiots like Snake Gibbons will propose the MC go back to operating meth labs, running dope and prostitutes; small time shit,” Cassie said.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it honey. It’ll work out. I need you to get Diego and Carlo together so we can arrest them at the same time and in the same place. Also I want you to recover the bugs you left at Carlo’s house,” Natalie lit another cigarette.

Cassie frowned.

“You’ve seen Law and Order on TV; fruit of the poisonous tree and all that bullshit,” Natalie tapped her toe restlessly.

“There was no warrant for the bugs I planted in Carlo’s living room and his bedroom was there?” Cassie lit her own cigarette and took a drag.

Natalie just raised her brows.

“So you just want me to arrange a meet with Diego Martinez, Steve Monahan and Carlo Ramirez at Carlo’s pad so you can arrest them but I have to retrieve the bugs I planted in the house before the Feds arrive?” Cassie said.

“That’s my girl. Steve Monahan will likely go up the river for conspiracy but given your past history with him I’m guessing you won’t mind that one bit. Maybe Dale Clifford will get voted in as President and you can be Vice President or Sargent at Arms,” Natalie said sarcastically.

“Fuck you Nat! What’s with you?” Cassie put her hands on Natalie’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry babe. It will all be good; it’s just the Op is coming to an end. Maybe I can release you from your contract as an undercover informant and we can work something out,” this was the second lie Natalie had told Cassie today.

“Hey you know what? If I’m freed up maybe we can come out? Maybe I can convince Dale to take the MC legit? If the Beasts are just a Riding Club, I’ll just be like any other civilian,” Cassie gushed.

“Hey that might just work,” Natalie told her third lie in succession.

“Ok, you got some work to do babe. Contact me with the details when you’ve arranged the meet with the Cartel guys ok?” Natalie forced a smile.

They kissed long and languidly and then Cassie hopped on her ride and fired it up. As Cassie disappeared in the distance Natalie drummed her fists on the hood of her car in anger.

“I’m sorry Cassie; I’m so sorry,” she wailed.

Cassie received an email from Natalie the next day advising her of a planned sting on a Cartel drug and weapons shipment that was planned to cross the border at the Mexicali crossing. She was to use the Intel to initiate the meeting with Diego, Carlo and the Beasts of Burden MC.

Cassie met with Steve Monahan and proposed the meeting and once again they were invited to Carlo Ramirez’ house to discuss cross-border security for the Medici Cartel’s shipments into the USA, This time Dale Clifford was also invited as the club’s Sergeant at Arms.

Cassie called Dale and she invited him around to her place for a pre-meeting sit down to discuss the agenda.

“Cassie, where are you getting your information? You seem to have resources that you are not sharing with the MC,” Dale was agitated, he was drinking straight whisky and chain smoking.

“Dale. You know I spent a long time in purgatory before I was admitted back into the Beasts of Burden, particularly during my time in Mexico. I have some informants who are still loyal to me from those days and they provided me with the Intel,” Cassie lit a cigarette and sipped her Jack Daniel’s.

“Yeah well it’s almost like you are undermining me. The deals with Diego and Carlo and the Cartel, the patchover with the Sisters of Satan in Las Vegas, the follow-on deal with the KC mob. It’s like you are running your own agenda, and I’m the Sargent at Arms who is supposed to be all over this shit. Are you planning on usurping me or even challenging the President?” Dale shook his head.

“Honey, it’s nothing like that. Let’s just take the meeting with Carlo and I promise you things will change for the better,” Cassie reached out and took Dale’s hand in hers.

“Just trust me this once honey,” she kissed him softly on the lips.

“You know I love you Cassie. I’ve never used those words before but you know,” he searched her eyes.

“Dale, I love you too. Not like you want me too, not exclusively, but I love you,” Cassie pressed her lips harder against Dale’s.

Cassie allowed Dale to ease her down on the couch and lie on top of her. He kissed her and slid his hands under her t-shirt and lifted the cups of her bra away from her breasts. He stroked her nipples and they hardened immediately and Cassie gasped into his mouth and kissed him harder, driving her tongue into Dale’s mouth. She ground her groin against his, feeling the heat of his cock through the denim of their jeans.

“Fuck! This is so awkward!” Dale was getting frustrated and he eased out of Cassie’s embrace, stood up, and picked her up in his arms.

“Where are we going Romeo?” she giggled.

Dale kissed her to shut her up, walked to the bedroom and then dropped her on the bed.

“Way to treat a lady,” Cassie giggled again.

“I’ll show you how to treat a lady!” Dale play-fought with Cassie as she pretended to struggle against him.

He ripped off her boots and then her t-shirt and finally her jeans leaving her dressed only in black control-top pantyhose. Cassie then fought with Dale, tearing off his shirt and ripping off his boots and jeans. He was soon naked with a rampant erection.

Cassie couldn’t help herself, she was feeling playful and she slapped at his erect penis and made it quiver.

“See it likes me,” she smirked.

“Oh it likes you!” Dale smiled back mischievously and turned Cassie over so that she was on her belly.

He fell on her, his cock nestling in the crevice of her buttocks where he began to hump her. Cassie pushed back and turned her head sideways so that Dale could kiss her.

“Stop pissing around and fuck me Dale,” Cassie sighed and pushed her rump into his groin.

Dale reached down and tore a hole in the crotch of her pantyhose and his cock slid into the hole in her nylons and nestled his glans in her puckered bud.

“That’s better!” Cassie moaned.

She pushed back and Dale’s cock slid past her sphincter and deep inside her anus.

“Now fuck me!” Cassie writhed underneath him, encouraging Dale to fuck her.

Dale thrust himself in and out of Cassie’s backside, his belly pressing on her back but he was frustrated. He wanted to fuck her hard; to pound her soft ass. He gripped Cassie’s hips and lifted her to her knees and began to fuck her hard and fast doggy style.

Now Dale’s cock was thrusting against Cassie’s prostate and she was really enjoying the sex; she drove her ass back to meet his thrusts and wriggled her buttocks to stimulate him. Dale dug his fingers into Cassie’s flanks and held her still while he fucked her deeply, hard and fast.

He was grunting and moaning with the exertion and Cassie was crying out with lust, she couldn’t push back but she could still wriggle her buttocks and that was enough to send Dale over the edge.

He held Cassie tight and came deep inside her; he reached around and squeezed her cock and Cassie orgasmed with him, shooting her spend onto the bedspread whilst Dale emptied himself inside her, his hot semen filling her, his glans pressing against her prostate as her anus pulsated, gripping his phallus and milking him of his seed.

They fell on the bed exhausted, Dale on top of Cassie, his cock still erect and still buried in her ass.

They lay like that until Dale was ready to go again then they did it all over.

The next night they were sitting at a table outside of Carlo Ramirez’ split-level palatial house on his marble-tiled patio. Cassie sipped champagne and stared at the aqua-lit infinity pool and the magnificent tableau of the lights of Los Angeles spread out in the distance.

This time there was no feeling of isolation. Carlo’s bodyguards roamed the perimeter and there was the muffled sound of radios as they communicated with each other, the guards bringing their wrists to their mouths to talk into the microphones.

“Steve, Dale; I have concerns. Cassie told me about the FBI sting that was being planned at Mexicali,” Carlo blew on the tip of his cigar.

“We had to divert the shipment through Juarez. That took time, money, and resources,” Diego Martinez chimed in.

“But you still got protection from our Nevada chapters,” Dale snapped back.

“The delivery was made without a hitch,” Steve Monahan backed up his Sargent at Arms.

“Se, Se. But I think we might have a snitch or a leak somewhere,” Carlo’s eyes half-closed.

Dale kicked back his chair.

“The Beasts of Burden don’t snitch!” he banged his fist on the table.

Two of Carlo’s bodyguards became alert and looked over. Carlo shook his head at them.

“Settle down Mister Clifford; no one is saying the leak came from the MC. If we thought that, you wouldn’t be sitting here,” Carlo smiled.

Diego indicated for Dale to take his seat.

“You’re very quiet tonight Miz Rivers. It was your informant that gave us the information about the sting,” Carlo reached out and took Cassie’s hand.

Dale bristled but said nothing.

“I’ll give you the name of my informant as a gesture of good faith. There will be no need to use physical force on him; I’ve told him that you will talking to him,” Cassie squeezed Carlo’s hand.

The tension began to dissolve.

“That’s why I proposed this meeting,” Cassie looked around the table, meeting the eyes of the four men one at a time.

“But first I need to use your rest room,” Cassie smiled at Carlo.

“Well you certainly know where it is,” Carlo grinned salaciously at her, surreptitiously reminding her of her last visit when he had fucked her in the bathroom.

“Gentlemen,” Cassie arose and both Dale and Carlo pulled back her chair.

One of the security detail approached but Carlo shook his head.

“Deja que la señora se orine en privado,” he grinned at the henchman who smiled back.

Cassie was wearing a simple black cocktail dress, tan sheer hold-up stockings, black high-heels and had accessorised with silver jewellery. She felt the eyes of the men checking out her pert ass and long shapely legs as she sauntered to the hacienda.

“She is a magnificent creature,” Carlo sighed and the other men nodded.

When Cassie was inside the house she closed the sliding door behind her and then pulled the mesh curtain open a chink and saw that the four men were deep in conversation. She had been here before and knew the layout. She found the miniature, super-sensitive listening device under the coffee table in the lounge where she had planted it. She put is in her purse and climbed the elegant staircase to the upper floor and made her way to Carlo’s bedroom.

She lay down on his bed so she could reach under his bedside table to remove the bug. She had just put it in her purse when she heard a movement behind her. She looked over shoulder and saw Carlo standing there.

“So! Why is the senorita lying face down on my bed when she is supposed to be using my restroom?” Carlo grinned.

Cassie quickly assessed the situation and formulated a plan.

She smiled back at him.

“Because like last time, I figured you would follow me in the house and this time I don’t want to fuck standing on my heels in the shitter,” she grinned.

“Such eloquent use of the English language,” Carlo grinned.

He quickly ripped off his clothes and fell on her.

He pressed his groin into her buttocks and his hands cupped her breasts through her dress.

“You are such a sexy bitch,” he pulled her face to his and kissed her fervidly, his lips smashed against hers and his hands pawed at her breasts.

His tongue ravaged her mouth, his hands slid down her body and raked her buttocks. Cassie winced at the pain. She remembered he was a sadist who had enjoyed hurting her last time they met.

“Are you going to fuck me? We don’t have much time,” she whispered.

Cassie wriggled her buttocks offering herself to Carlo who lifted the hem of her short dress and exposed her round, tight buttocks encased in red satin panties. He rubbed his cock in the crevice of her ass while Cassie stimulated him by rotating and pressing her buttocks into him.

Carlo pulled her ass back against his thrusting penis. He enjoyed the feel of her satin-clad globes against his hard cock, he left silvery trains of precum on Cassie’s panties.

Carlo pulled down the rear of Cassie’s panties.

“I’m lubricated. Just put it in me and fuck me. Fill me with your hot cum,” Cassie growled.

Cassie pushed back, inviting him to penetrate her which Carlo obligingly did. His long thick cock slid easily into her tight anus and Cassie groaned, simulating lust.

“You like that my little tranny pussycat? You liked it last time didn’t you, you little puta” Carlo purred as his groin pushed against her buttocks, fully impaling her on his cock.

Cassie wriggled her buttocks in response.

“Come on; fuck me,” Cassie wanted him to come quickly.

She knew that the FBI had the place surrounded and as soon as she texted Natalie that she had the listening devices in her possession the raid would commence. The FBI wanted them all taken by surprise.

Carlo gripped Cassie’s hips and began to fuck her gradually increasing the tempo, fucking her harder while Cassie pushed back against him.

Carlo slammed his cock deep inside Cassie’s ass and ejaculated and Cassie ground back against him; she was semi-erect but the anticipation of the forthcoming FBI raid prevented any real form of pleasure.

Carlo ground and rubbed against Cassie as he orgasmed until his intense pleasure slowly subsided. Carlo held Cassie still and extracted his penis. He leaned over and took a handful of tissues from the bedside table and wiped his cock dry and dabbed at Cassie’s ass.

That was when the firefight started.

The sound of automatic weapon fire, screams of pain and the shouts of the FBI agents ordering everyone to lay down their arms filled the air. Flashes from the gunfire reflected in the dark windowpanes.

“Puta! You fucking set me up!” Carlo scrambled at the bedside table, trying to open the drawer.

Cassie used all her strength and rolled over but she was still pinned under Carlo, who used his body weight to hold her down.

They struggled but Carlo was able to get his hand on the pistol he kept in the drawer and he tried to bring the silver automatic 9mm pistol to bear on Cassie but she used both of her hands to keep the gun away from her.

Carlo struggled, trying to keep Cassie pinned to the bed and aim the pistol at her while she writhed beneath him and gripped his wrists so it was extremely difficult for him.

The both heard the stomping of footsteps on the stairs which had to be either approaching FBI agents or Carlo’s bodyguards. The both renewed their efforts to survive.

Carlo was able to turn his wrists and point the gun at Cassie.

“Prostituta travesti!” he sneered and pulled the trigger.

Cassie felt a burning sensation and a force like someone had hit her in the chest with a sledgehammer. She was blacking out and Carlo was able to aim his gun at her head.

Cassie was losing consciousness but she knew she was about to die.

As she passed out she heard a gunshot ring out and her face was suddenly covered with blood and brain matter.

Carlo fell dead on top of her.

“Get a fucking medic in here! Get a fucking medic here!” Natalie Styles screamed frantically as she bolted into the room.

…………..

Cassie woke up in the same hospital room that she had two years earlier. She opened her eyes, closed them again against the fierce bright light, and then forced herself to open them again.

She had a drip going into each of her arms and a patient monitoring system was connected to her by various wires and pinged away on its colourful flat screen.

Cassie felt a pain like fire under her right breast which subsided into a throbbing ache across her chest and belly. She knew the drill and she squeezed the trigger of the attachment taped to her palm and felt the opiates enter her veins take immediate affect.

When she awoke again the tubes and the monitoring system had been removed; she was now cuffed to the bed by one wrist. A slim man in a dark suit stood at the bottom of her bed.

“This can’t be good,” she tried to smile.

“Cassandra Rivers, I’m Special Agent In Charge Richard Layman,” the man didn’t return her smile.

“I’m here to offer you the following: Sex reassignment surgery known as vaginoplasty, entry into the witness relocation program and a new identity. On acceptance of the terms and conditions laid out in the document I am about to place in front of you, the FBI will cease to be responsible for your wellbeing or any liability for your security and future existence. You are required by the contract and agreement that you signed at the beginning of your tenure as an FBI undercover operative to abide by the terms of the contract, particularly the official secrets act,” SAC Laymen said matter of factly.

“Where is Natalie?” Cassie asked.

“Agent Styles will be in to see you shortly. This will be the last time you will have contact with her or any FBI operatives,” he placed the documents on the overbed table, turned on his heels and left.

Natalie entered the room. A trim, redheaded woman in a tight-fitting navy blue business suit with ginger hair styled with layered bangs that rested on her shoulders, her makeup emphasised her peaches-and-cream complexion although she favoured heavy black mascara and bright-red lipstick. She wore ultra-sheer pantyhose that gave her long well formed legs a lustrous sheen. She was wearing her usual Christian Louboutin high-heels.

She looked tired, haggard and had obviously been crying recently; her eyes were red and moist.

Cassie tried to smile.

“There’s no happy ending is there?” Cassie looked up a Natalie who took her hand in hers.

“It was a cluster-fuck. Five agents dead, seven Cartel bodyguards plus Carlo and Diego. Steve Monahan got caught in the crossfire,” Natalie bowed her head.

“Dale?” Cassie asked, concern evident in her voice.

“Arrested at the scene and released for lack of evidence,” Natalie replied.

“You?” Cassie squeezed Natalie’s hand.

“I’ll get a citation publicly, the FBI wants the positive press. But I’m fucked professionally. They’ll have me working in document research in Bumfuck Idaho or somewhere,” Natalie whispered.

“Us?” Cassie whispered.

Natalie sat on the edge of the bed and gently kissed Cassie on the lips.

“There is no us. You go into Witsec and I go to purgatory in Bumfuck. They screwed us Cassie,” Natalie stood and turned to walk away.

Then she turned around and raced back to the Cassie’s bedside and tried to hug Cassie, she kissed her face fervently.

“I love you Cassie! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!” Natalie broke down sobbing.

Two agents quickly entered the room and dragged Natalie away.

SAC Laymen re-entered the room.

“We hand you over to the US Marshals as soon as you’re well enough to travel. They will provide you with vocational training and relocate you,” he said, is if Natalie had never been there.

“You can keep the cunt surgery; I like the way I am. Next time you see Agent Styles, tell her Cassie said to keep her skinny ass safe,” Cassie rolled over and began to cry.

………..

Cassie entered the law offices of Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe dressed in a dark business suit. Her makeup was perfect and her brunette hair, worn in a bob with bangs, rested on her shoulders. She strode across the open-plan office in her Christian Louboutin’s to the door of Mr Cheatem’s private office.

She could feel the men’s eyes on her tits, ass and legs and the envy and antipathy of the female lawyers and law clerks.

She had been provided with a new identity, a little apartment in Tulsa Oklahoma, a small Toyota hybrid, some clothes befitting a woman employed by an affluent law firm, ten thousand dollars in a bank account, and two months training as a legal secretary.

She hated it.

Mr Cheatem arose from his desk and pointed to a comfortable chair he usually used to interview clients. She sat down and saw the sweat break out on Mr Cheatem’s forehead when he heard the swish of her nylons as she crossed her legs. She pulled down the hem of her skirt but Mr Cheatem’s gaze drifted between her legs and breasts throughout the ‘welcome interview’.

Cassie could see her future: being ogled and pestered daily by married, middle-aged, powerful men wanting a quick fling or dipshit young professionals who fancied a roll with the office MILF. Tedious bookwork, filing and typing. The barbs and quips from the other women in the office.

She hated her life even more by the end of the day. The animosity towards her in the law office was palpable and that night she drank a full fifth of Jack Daniel’s and smoked twenty cigarettes.

“I guess this is my life now,” she sighed as she passed out on the couch in her tiny apartment.

Epilogue….

Jill Saint John leaned on the rail of the balcony of the Sisters of Satan’s small clubhouse, smoking and drinking a beer from the bottle.

She watched the headlight in the distance down on Highway 93 wavering in the heat-haze and listened to the accompanying growl of a Harley Davidson road bike. She knew that note well.

She sipped her beer and smoked her smoke as the bike got closer.

The bike turned off the highway into the dusty parking lot. Up close the bike was beat up and had seen better days, the rider was dressed head to toe in black. Black skinny jeans, black boots, and a tight black leather jacket. The rider even wore a black full-face helmet with visor.

As the rider dismounted, Jill saw the patch on the back of the rider’s jacket, there was no club emblem, just a bottom rocker that read ‘Nomad’ in black on a white background.

The rider removed the black helmet and her long dark hair spilled to her shoulders.

“I heard you bitches are want to give a lonely gal a cold ale and maybe a bed for the night,” Cassie grinned.

Jill threw her empty beer bottle in the sand and strode over to Cassie and gave her a hug.

“Yeah. Us biker bitches gotta look after each other,” she grinned.

The end.