Biker mousy wife

[nandoghosh]

Milton cast a brief glance at the beer dribbling out the corners of this fellow's mouth and took that opportunity to scurry off to the bar and fetch some beers for himself, his wife and Buttercup.

Meanwhile, Buttercup lead Sophie to a table at the back of the bar where a group of men stood talking by a battered pool table. One man in his forties stood out among the rest and was clearly the leader. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a square jaw. He wore a neatly trimmed beard and long hair that went past his shoulders. His skeleton jacket has specials emblems on the front and the other men seemed to defer to him.

"Rogan, look what I brought for you," said Buttercup, pushing her way into the group with Sophie by her side. "Her name is Sophie!"

Conversation stopped short and the coarse group fell silent as all eyes were fixed on Sophie's body. Her cheeks flushed prettily and she bowed her head as the men brazenly looked her body up and down.

"Holy fuck, Buttercup," grunted Rogen in appreciation. "Where did you find this slutty little nerd? She is built like a goddamn brick shithouse." The men all broke out in raucous laughter as Sophie giggled nervously and hid her face in her hands.

"Come now, fellows," tittered Sophie into her hand. "You are making me self conscious."

"Oh, darlin', they are just playing with you," said Buttercup, putting her arm around Sophie consolingly. "I thought you would be used to that sort of thing with a body like that."

"Oh, I never dress this way," admitted Sophie, peeking over at Buttercup who gave her an encouraging smile. "It was my husband's idea."

"Your husband?" cried Rogan. "Where the fuck is he at?"

"Right here, right here," said Milton, edging his way into the circle of ruffians with three beers clasped in his hands.

The group took one look at him in his pink shirt and khakis and broke out laughing in unison. He glanced around the group fearfully as he handed Buttercup and Sophie their beers.

"Thank you, honey," said Sophie quietly, taking the drink. She turned away slightly to take a big gulp, hoping it would calm her nerves. Her heart was pounding madly in her chest.

"Let me get this straight," said Rogan, stepping closer to Sophie while looking Milton in the eye. "You dressed up your timid little wife like a whore and decided to take her down to hang out with a gang of bikers? What the fuck were you thinking, man?" Rogan shot Milton a winning smile and shook his head in disbelief.

"Ah, well, I wouldn't say that she looks like a whore exactly," objected Milton, holding up one finger. His pulse was racing but he felt that he had to stick up for his wife in this group of churlish men.



"Maybe not a whore, but she sure does have the goods on full display," interjected Buttercup. She slipped behind Sophie and shook her by the shoulders, making Sophie's generous bosom shimmy and jiggle. Sophie squealed with surprise as the shaking caused her rebellious top to slip down, exposing her gorgeous white cleavage. She caught it just before it slipped down past her nipples. While the men hooted and made ribald comments.



"Stop it, Buttercup, my boobs are popping out," gasped Sophie, her face burning with embarrassment.



"Yup, your wife sure has a sweet set of knockers on her," said Rogan, nodding with approval.



"Um, you all keep talking about about me in the third person," offered Sophie softly. She kept her chin tucked down as she wriggled her top back up into place.



"Oh, I'm sorry, little lady," said Rogan, stepping closer. He took Sophie's chin gently in his big rough hand and tilted her head up so that her could fix with a piercing gaze. Sophie gasped in response as she found herself drawn into Rogan's cold blue eyes. "You have a lovely pair of tits. White, big, and jiggly. Just as I like 'em."



Sophie gulped in amazement and felt a tickle of arousal in her belly as this big strong man took her face in his hand and spoke so suggestively. The group snickered and muttered amongst themselves in response.



"Now, err, that's quite improper," objected Milton impotently as he watched this big oaf manhandling his poor wife.



Rogan ignored Milton and continued on, holding Sophie's head up to maintain her gaze. "Yup, your tits are making my dick real hard right about now," he told her. "What do you think of that?" Rogan reached down with his other hand and shamelessly adjusted the growing lump in his jeans.



"Um, I guess that's flattering in a way," admitted Sophie, feeling locked into Rogan's stare. She put her hands over her breasts unconsciously to hide her stiffening nipples.



"Come now, that's really beyond the pale," protested Milton. He summoned his courage and tapped Rogan on the shoulder. "Please unhand my wife, sir," he said, fighting the nauseous fear in his gut.


There was a collective inhalation as a hush fell over the group. Rogan released Sophie's face from his grip and turned to face Milton, drawing himself up to full height and glowering down at the indignant husband.

"Do you have any idea who I am, little man?" asked Rogan quietly. "I'm the leader around here. I'm the fucking alpha male. I snap my fingers and this bunch here would grab you and break you in two!"



Milton's chin quivered in fear, but he glanced over at his shocked wife, looking on anxiously and he gathered his wits about him. "Be that as it may," he stammered. "Sophie is my wife and you shouldn't talk to her that way. It's impolite," insisted Milton, meeting Rogan's stern gaze though his face shook like jelly and his gut was writhing with eels.



Rogan's face dropped in bald amazement and he turned in a full circle with his arms spread, silently imploring everyone to take notice. A larger group formed around the little circle as bikers all crowded in, craning their heads to see and whispering feverishly to inquire what was happening.



"You know what?" Rogan asked the crowd. "This little man has a big pair of stones on him, I'll tell you what," he said pointing at Milton. "I wouldn't have thunk it, but there it is. A big old pair of stones." There was a pregnant pause as the group seemed to hold it's breath. Rogan relished the moment while Milton stood there, knees shaking, and then he broke out into a broad grin and gave a deep belly laugh. The crowd exhaled as one as Rogan slapped his knee in delight. "Which one of you tough guys would stand up to me like that? I ask you," laughed Rogan, wiping a tear from his eye. He came over and put his arm around Milton, crushing him to his side in a an iron grip. "What's your name, there?" he asked.



"Milton."



"You are alright in my book, Milton," said Rogan as the crowd started to thin out, realizing that no violence was at hand. "Now what's the problem between us? Am I being too rude for you?"



"Well, Sophie is my wife, after all," said Milton reasonably. "It's only appropriate for me to ask other men to treat her with dignity."



"Dignity," said Rogan, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow in thought. He released Milton from his grip and rubbed his chin in thought.



"He just wants you to be more polite," explained Sophie primly.



"Oh Rogan don't mean no harm," put in Buttercup, suppressing a smile. "He just follows the old adage, treat a lady like a whore and a whore like a lady."


"Har, har, I sure do, Miss Buttercup. By your leave ma'am, I surely do," responded Rogan with a twinkle in his eye as he kissed Buttercup's hand to the delight of the group. Bikers pounded each other on the shoulder as Rogan teased Buttercup.Oh you rascal, you go on, I know what I am," laughed Buttercup, withdrawing her hand.



"Ok, Sophie, I beg your pardon, ma'am," said Rogan, gripping his crotch as he looked Sophie up and down. "Let me start over, can I? My name is Rogan, and it is a real pleasure to meet you," he held out his hand to Sophie.



Sophie glanced at her husband nervously and hesitantly took Rogan's hand. "Hello, Rogan. I am pleased to make your acquaintance," she said, feeling excitement building inside her.



Rogan put her hand to his lips and kissed it delicately while he fixed her with an intense gaze, making Sophie's heart flutter madly. "May I say that your dress is very flattering to your figure?" he asked. "I hope that's not too forward." The group snickered in response.



"Um, no, uh, thank you very much," replied Sophie, tugging at her top to keep her breasts in check. She could feel the group staring at her erect nipples that were poking plainly through the thin fabric.



"You know, Rogan, since you like Sophie's figure so much, you should invite her back to the clubhouse so that she can give you a better look at it," suggested Buttercup taking a drag of a cigarette.



"That's a fine idea, Buttercup," replied Rogan, rubbing his hands together. "But you know she would need to go through her initiation first."



"Of course, of course," said Buttercup, frowning judiciously and shaking her head. "No women in the clubhouse until they go through initiation. I know the rules."



"What does the initiation entail?" asked Sophie.



"Let me try to say this politely, so I don't offend your husband," said Rogan while his fellow chortled knowingly all around. "We don't normally allow women in the clubhouse unless they show their loyalty and that they got nothing to hide."



"I'm not sure I like the sound of this," said Milton, the sweat beading on his forehead.



"Well men can't come in at all unless they are full members," said Buttercup blowing smoke in Milton's face dismissively.



"Now, now, Buttercup, this is true. But our friend Milton has shown his worth. He is a solid man who stood right up to me to defend his wife's honor, so he's earned his entrance," said Rogan drawing himself upright.


"Well, uh, thank you," said Milton, feeling an unaccountable sense of relief.