It’s amazing what a month in chastity will do to you. How going a month without an orgasm will change your views on things. What need will drive you to do. While I’ve always been a jealous person, Jack deserved as much fun and variety as I do. I’ve never really been enthusiastic about it, but fair is fair, right? But I can’t deny that denial is one hell of a motivation. Jack has put me in chastity until I get him two hookups (Heather cannot be one of them; they must be new women). And one had to be younger than me (I’m 24). So, that was how, this past Saturday, I was home anxiously waiting for Jack to return with “Dixie” so he/we could have some fun.

One of the advantages of being in a motorcycle club is that, because of charity events, you get to meet other clubs helping with the same events. Meet friends, get contacts, and all that jazz. And there are some women who just love the biker culture, aesthetic, whatever you want to call it. They love the idea of “dangerous men,” the gritty rebellious nature, and the fun of riding on a hog. Some dive deeply into the culture (even for the weekenders), becoming a lifelong part of it. Some just like to “slum,” dating around, going to events, gatherings, and parties mainly for hookups and the “thrill.”

I was looking for that type when I called some friends and friends of friends and got directed to Dixie. Nineteen, she was very much a party girl and had dated or hooked up with some in a fellow club. The type of girl that you called if you were having a party and needed entertainment. And so I did, then texted, before finally getting a response. I was upfront about what we wanted, invited her over for the night, and promised some fun. She was interested. Thankfully the weekend was beautiful, so when late Saturday afternoon came, Jack rode out to a nearby city to get her. They had a date first, as he took her out to dinner and to get some drinks. I took care of the kids and put them to bed while waiting for them to return. They didn’t do anything but get to know each other a bit, as we’d agreed she could change her mind and not ride back if they didn’t click. They did, and she came back with him.

Dixie was cute, rail thin, and about 4 years younger than me. Not much of a chest, but she already had a beautiful sleeve and some other tattoos. Dyed blonde, feisty, in that way that some women have when they know what they want. She was not assertive; she just fully knew what power she had and how to get it. She was also very much a “party” girl. As soon as they got back, we were drinking beers and doing lines in the basement, and she took some pills. She said she wasn’t into the whole “submissive” thing, yet she more than happily followed Jack’s directions.

We started making out, the three of us, on the couch. Dixie wanted to see my chastity belt, so I stripped for her. She liked my tats as well when she saw them. She also stripped down as we danced for Jack while we kissed. It was fun making out with her as she was energetic as fuck, and we made a show of it for Jack. She had some of her own shit that I snorted off her chest, and then I ate her out as she sucked off my husband. It was about then I realized whatever I snorted was not straight coke. I was straight up tripping and feeling completely fucking detached, and I ended up just rubbing my chest as they started having fun. They took their time, slow fucking and building intensity as I watched them, everything looking and sounding off to me. Later I found out it was special K mixed in the coke. I just knew I felt good and weird and off and was in my own special place as they fucked like bunny rabbits.