FoA Chapter 4

You wake up to another hot, muggy day in Gurlberg. You had a few more beers after you got home last night, so you’re a little groggy, and very sweaty. You run a hand over your damp face, groaning as you open your eyes to look at the ceiling. Your body is splayed out on your narrow bed, naked except for a thin undershirt. Your fat, morning wood rests on your stomach in a shiny smear of precum.

You sigh and reach for it, closing your eyes and remembering last night with Rachel. You really like her, but there’s no way she’s single. Not that it matters. You may have to visit Goldfinger again sometime. In fact, you will definitely have to… you have to go find this woman named Ingrid, or whatever. Your mind wanders as you remember, drifting back into the day to the sight of that redheaded MILF friend of Stef’s. Mary, right? You use your imagination a little, and instead of her discreetly rubbing her clit inside her robe, in your mind you push her onto the bed, lifting that damp robe up over her hips, exposing her.

“Mmm,” you sigh, sudden warmth covering your belly. You keep pulling, and more cum dribbles out as you breathe heavily. “Oh.” You hold up your dripping hand in the morning light, then lay it on your sticky abdomen.

You better get up and get moving. You take a shower and eat a piece of toast, then put on some torn jeans and a black, sleeveless top. Helmet in hand, you head downstairs. As you step out onto the sidewalk, where your beautiful blue Scout is waiting, you pause before you can put the helmet on. The door of the coffee shop across the street is opening, and you see familiar, red hair.

It’s that girl from yesterday. She comes out alone, a to-go cup and a little bag in her hand. Coffee and a muffin to start the day. She wears snug white capris and a red t-shirt with white polka dots. Her hair’s in that same, sporty ponytail, but she has it tied with a bow that matches the top. The white sneakers she wears don’t really go with the outfit, but you remember that she’s some kind of athlete… her figure definitely makes her look that way. She’s very… perky where it counts.

She notices you staring, recognizes you, and smiles hesitantly. Her hands are full, but she starts to give you a little wave, then stops. What’s that look on her face? Is she embarrassed about seeing you naked yesterday? Maybe that’s it, but she looks really alarmed.

Strong hands grab you and spin you around. Suddenly Officer Stark in full uniform is in your face.

“Drop it,” she snaps, and in your surprise, you comply. Your helmet clatters to the street. “Face the vehicle,” she orders.

You were so distracted by that girl that you didn’t even notice Stark rolling up, because she’s right there. That’s what the girl, Riley, was staring at. Stark shoves you roughly at the squad car.

“Hands on the car. Spread.” Stark is being loud. Everyone on the block is hearing this. Teeth grinding, you move your feet farther apart. Something hard touches your side. Stark has her flashlight in her hand. “What are you carrying? What do you have?”

Suddenly the flashlight touches your inner thigh, then she pulls it upward sharply, between your legs.

“Nothing down here,” she says disdainfully. You clench your jaw, but don’t make a sound. She basically just hit you between your legs. It’s all you can do not to hit her back, but that’s what she wants you to do.

She puts the flashlight away, starting to pat you down. It’s more than just a search. She’s squeezing and feeling every inch of you, working her way up your legs to your torso. Her hands close over your breasts, squeezing them over your bra.

“What’s this?” she demands.

“What?” you say, uncomprehending.

She thrusts her hands into your shirt, yanking it up and seizing your bra. With a jerk, she snaps it off, pulls it out of your shirt, and throws it aside, then feels again.

“My mistake,” she says, squeezing your boobs so hard that it makes you hiss in pain. “Guess there’s nothing here.” She finishes her search and lets go. Then she pats your rear in an almost friendly way. “OK. You can turn around.”

You do so just to find her an inch away, in your face.

“What were you doing at Goldfinger?” she asks.

“Drinking,” you say.

“I saw you talking to Rachel. Do you like her? Does she like you?” She asks the questions quickly, staring right into your eyes. “Did you fuck her?”

“What?”

“Did you fuck her?”

“Are we done?” you ask, standing your ground.

“No. Open.” She has her flashlight again. Rage setting your whole body on fire, you open your mouth. She thrusts her fingers inside, searching it. She touches your teeth and under your tongue, making you **** and gag before she finally pulls them out and wipes them on your shirt. “OK. I guess you don’t have any contraband. Have a good day.”

She tips her hat to you, then gets back in her car and leaves. Shaken, you stand there with your fury. Stark has always been a bitch, but she’s never done that before. You take deep breaths, then spit. You can still taste her fingers.

Riley is crossing the street toward you, looking hesitant.

“Oh my God,” she says. “Are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” you say bitterly, picking up your helmet and turning to face her.

“Why did she do that?” Does Riley not know? How can she not know? You’re with the club. Stark hates Free Gurls more than anything. You’re wearing your vest. Does Riley not know what it is?

You clear your throat. “I’m with Free Gurls. She doesn’t like us very much,” you explain.

“Oh,” Riley’s eyes widen. Then she looks puzzled. “Like, the gang?”

You nod, giving her an apologetic smile. “We call it a club.”

“Oh.” She looks thoughtful. She’s cute when she’s confused.

“Are you OK?” you ask. Her eyes are on your chest. Your bra is on the sidewalk, ruined, and annoyingly, your nips are hard and poking out obviously. She’s staring at them, and you have noticed the little bulge in her capris. So she’s like you.

She blushes and gets her eyes back on your face, looking up at you. “Sorry. But, um, why were you in my house then?”

Oh, right. Her mom told her that you were there to fix her shower. You’d better smooth this over somehow, in a way that won’t offend anyone. You think fast.

“Um, I think your mom knows my boss. They’re about the same age. Obviously your mom has nothing to do with our club, but I think they’re friends. My boss, Stef, asked me to give your mom a card. I wasn’t fixing the shower or anything. But she did spill coffee on me,” you add. It’s a lot of lying, and you don’t like lying to this girl, but you feel like you have to. You can’t tell her that her mom likes to buy illegal sex toys and watch biker chicks using them.

“Hey, right. Right,” you go on quickly. “I’ll bring your shirt back. I just need to wash it first.”

“No big deal,” she says quickly.

She looks up at you. You look down at her.

“I better get to work,” you say.

“OK. I’m glad you’re OK.” She glances at the bra. You had better pick that up and throw it away. “What that cop is doing is not cool.”

“Agreed,” you say. She heads for the university, and you get rid of the bra, then get on your bike.

You slept later than you expected to, so Stark’s harassment has almost made you late. It’s daytime, so the club isn’t full of horny women yet. Well, it kind of is. You see several familiar bikes outside. Some club members are here for the meeting.

You park and head in. You aren’t going to say anything about what happened with Stark. Police harassment is just part of being a Free Gurl. If you complain about it, you’ll look like a pussy. You can’t let anything faze you.

Yesterday you got a glimpse of the blonde exchange student, Lotte, who will be dancing for the bar, but as you enter the Clubhouse, it’s a different blonde who has her tits out. This time it’s not a dancer: it’s a member of the club.

Vicky is tall and extremely buxom. Her hair always terribly bleached, creating a stark contrast with her artificial tan. She always dresses in tight, leather pants and crop tops, but at the moment she’s totally bare above the waist. Various small, unrelated tattoos decorate her stomach, sides, and collarbones and… something’s not right. For a second it looks like she has three nipples, but that’s actually a blemish on her right boob, and she’s showing it to Caroline.

Caroline is smaller, about the same size as Riley, and with a similarly tight, slim figure. She dresses just like you do, and most of the club does, but she wears a real cut with FREE GURLS on the back, complete with the full logo. It looks cool as hell. She’s Black, very pretty, and has short hair that you want to run your hand over, but you can’t. Caroline is one of the more sensible and dignified club members… not like Vicky.

“Look at this!” Vicky is saying. “Who does that? Look at this, Prospect!” She turns to you, huge breasts swaying.

“Is that a hickie?” you ask.

“Yeah! Who does this?” She laughs. “Oh my fucking God.”

“Who did it?”

“I can’t remember.”

That sounds like Vicky.

“Maybe put some ice on it,” Caroline suggests disinterestedly. “Put those away. You’ll scare the children. Prospect, did you get the stuff?”

You nod. “Easy.”

Caroline looks relieved. “Good.”

“Ellen’s being such a fucking cunt right now,” Vicky says, finally putting a shirt on. Still no bra, though. Ellen is the chief of police, and the one that Stark works for. Stark is terrible, but it’s Ellen’s policies that she’s enforcing. Ellen is the real problem.

“No shit,” Caroline replies. “Is this everyone?”

“Everyone that’s coming, I think,” you say.

You lock the front door, then follow them to the room where the club meets. The others are waiting.

Stef sits at the head of the table.

To her right is Carla, a pretty, but weathered woman about Stef’s age. She dresses in simple jeans and a colorful top under her cut. She and Stef were the ones who founded Free Gurls, twenty years ago.

Next to Carla is Jan, who looks hung over.

Next to Jan is Fang, who is definitely the person that you find strangest in the club. Her parents are from China, but she was raised American, so she sounds like everyone else when she talks. She’s slim, with short hair that’s always perfect. Rather than dressing like the rest of the club, she nearly always wears skintight bodysuits like someone from a movie. It looks cool as hell on her perfect body when she’s riding a bike, especially with her Free Gurls cut on top. She’s the only Free Gurl who rides a sport bike instead of a cruiser. Like Caroline, she tends to be calm and sensible—until she has a few drinks.

It’s not the whole club, but there are usually between five and seven members at these meetings. Today it’s seven. You take a seat at the table with them. They’ve only recently allowed you to sit in on these, and it’s a sign that you’re getting closer to becoming a full member.

“Are we going to do something about Ellen? We almost didn’t get the shit yesterday,” Caroline says, annoyed. “That could’ve been bad.”

“Prospect came through,” Carla says calmly.

“It shouldn’t have come to that,” Fang replies. “This is getting out of hand.”

“Blame them,” Jan says, pointing at Carla and Stef. You know that Carla and Stef have some kind of history with Ellen, but you don’t know the details. “They’re the ones who used to fuck her.”

“Carla used to fuck her,” Stef clarifies, smiling. “She gave me a rusty trombone in the shower once, but it was mostly all Carla.”

“Thanks, babe,” Carla murmurs.

“I remember that time,” Stef begins, and Carla reaches over and covers her mouth.

“No story time. Let’s stay on business,” she says. “Prospect, how was last night?”

Poor choice of words.

“Oooh,” Vicky says, her eyes lighting up. “What happened last night?”

Jan puts her fingers in her mouth and whistles. “Yeah, Prospect.”

You roll your eyes. “I went to Goldfinger and asked about merch. Stark was there, so it took all night, but all I got was that there’s maybe somebody named Ingrid that comes around.”

“Ingrid?” Fang looks curious. She turns to Stef. “Do we know her?”

Stef shakes her head. “No, but someone will. Good job, Adella. I’ll ask around.”

“Who told you this?” Caroline asks you.

“Rachel,” you say.

“That little minx,” Jan says bitterly. “She’s such a fucking tease.”

You smile. So you’ve at least gotten to go one place that Jan hasn’t yet.

“Where’s the stuff now?” Carla asks.

“I have it,” Jan replies.

“We’ll need to move it. It’s not safe there. Take it to storage,” Stef says to her. “Take 61.” The club has several storage units in town and outside town for this, and a couple different routes for going to them so the cops don’t catch on too easily. “Better just go. Do it now.”

“Got it,” Jan says, taking out her keys.

She leaves as Vicky’s speaking. “Did we get to see that new girl dance yet?”

“She tried out yesterday,” Stef says.

“You see that booty on her?” Caroline asks lightly.

“I know I did,” Vicky says.

“She know how to use it?” Fang asks Stef.

“Seems to,” Stef replies mildly.

You aren’t sure why they keep these meeting so secret when this is the stuff that they talk about.