Chapter 1

I'm Randy Burke and this is the story of my life so far. I come from a rather large family. I have two sisters and two brothers. They are all a lot older than me. I came along twelve years after my younger sister.

We were a poor family. My dad had a good job in the auto factory but he spent all his money at the track or at the bar. Mom worked as a clerk at the corner grocery store. We lived in what we called the projects. They were government-assisted living quarters. Dad and Mom were separated most of the time. That's why we lived in the projects. He would always drop in unannounced.

My childhood wasn't a happy one. All of my brothers and sisters moved out as soon as they turned eighteen or nineteen. They wanted to get away from this shitty home life we had. My Dad would often get drunk and beat up on my mom. One day, when I was about twelve, my two older brothers had enough.

They stopped by and the two of them beat the crap out of Dad. I couldn't blame them. Why Mom put up with it for so long, we didn't understand. This time she filed charges against Dad and he went to jail for a couple of months.

After he got out of jail, Mom had an order of protection against him and finally filed for divorce. We still lived in the shitty apartment but at least we didn't have to put up with my dad anymore. Mom got child support for me along with welfare benefits. Between the benefits and her job at the corner grocery, we were able to make ends meet.

I saw my siblings once in a while but we weren't close. Just too many years difference in our age. I didn't have a lot of friends. I was the poor kid from the projects. I understood that Mom did the best she could but that didn't stop kids from making fun of me.

I got the reputation as a bad kid. Mom had to come to school at least four times before I finally graduated. I wasn't that smart, but I think they just passed me along to get me out of the system. I did hang with a couple of other guys with reputations like mine. I didn't take shit from anyone.

While in school I'd mow lawns and do odd jobs to earn some extra money. I'd give half of all my money to Mom and kept the rest for myself. I wanted to save up and get myself a motorcycle.

I didn't have the smarts or the money to go to college. I was good working with my hands and after graduation I got a job working construction. I helped remodel houses and did a lot of concrete work. The work was hard but it kept me in shape and it paid good.

One of my brothers was going to sell his old Harley. I made a deal with him and gave him the money I had saved and paid him monthly payments till the balance was paid. Now I felt like the stud. I spent my evenings fixing the bike up and hung around a biker bar.

Some of the construction guys I worked with hung out there. Even though I was only twenty, no one said anything about me drinking. I also began smoking weed. For the next five years that was my life. I worked, drank and smoked weed.

I need to explain a little about the biker bar. This wasn't a biker gang like they used to have in the fifties and sixties. We weren't some outlaw club that raised havoc on the nearby communities. We did do a lot of drinking and partying. The only fights we got in was when someone else started it or a member got really drunk. It was almost always over a woman.

Most all these guys were construction workers or worked in the auto factories. I will say they were a rough bunch of guys. I felt at home with them.

When it came to women, they seemed to just come to the bar. Most all of them knew what we were like, and on weekends after the bar closed, Butch the owner would lock the doors, and the real party started. Anyone could leave at any time but they couldn't get back in.

The booze and weed flowed pretty freely. We paid for our own drinks but our club picked up any unpaid tab. We didn't want to piss Butch off. We had about seventy members altogether but we were rarely all there at once. Every night we averaged twenty or so bikers. There were rarely non bikers in the bar but every now and then someone might come in. Butch just waited on them. Most didn't stay long after seeing our club members. The only exception was Friday nights that I'll explain later.

More about the women who came into the bar. Most were party girls, while others might be getting some sort of revenge on their parents. There was a college about a mile away. We even had a few married women come in and we knew what they wanted. Thinking back, there was quite a few regulars. There were a couple of back rooms used for sex during open hours but after hours most happened right out in the open.

No woman was ever forced. There was always plenty of pussy there on the weekends, so we didn't need to force anyone. I will say that after a woman has been around for a couple of weeks we kind of considered her club property. It meant she was somewhat expected to have sex with anyone in the club.

She still wouldn't be forced but was told what was expected of her. The one big exception was if one biker said that she was his old lady, then she usually didn't put out for everyone else. A few of the bikers had wives that would sometimes come to the weekend parties. They seemed to be a group of women who didn't care what their husbands did.

I've had sex with a few of them and they told me, "As long as he brings home the paycheck and supports the kids, I don't care if he fucks some slut on the side."

After being fucked by different guys, some women might ask a biker if she could be his girl. That way she wouldn't be free game for every cock there. Some of the guys did look pretty nasty. Sometimes the biker might let her fuck another biker but it was on his say-so.

Carlos was one of the oldest members that attended regularly. He had been there way back when my brothers belonged to the club. I guess you can say he was the club president since he had been there for fifteen years. There was maybe a half dozen older guys still hanging at the bar regularly.

Most members lasted four or five years and then went on with their life. Now and then an old member might drop in just to say 'hi'. I had been a member for five years now and it was the same old thing. I was really ready to move on.

On Friday nights Butch's Bar put on one hell of a fish fry. It started way back before I even knew the bar existed. That was the day you could see a lot of the old bikers come in and have dinner with their family. Most left after they got done eating. I don't know how Butch did it but it was some of the best fish ever. He also had shrimp and sandwiches for the people who didn't like fish and chips.

Butch's fish fry was known all over the county and was the one day that we would see a lot of non-bikers and their families come in to eat.

I would see my brothers come in at least once a month with their families. I didn't see my family often since the death of my mother. I just kind of lost touch. It was good to see them when they would come to the fish fry.

After Mom's death I moved into a trailer in a mobile home park. I was just renting but it was all I needed. About all I did there was sleep and take a shower. I didn't eat at home much. I had my bike and a pickup truck, both were paid off so I was pretty much set.

But I'd been thinking about my life and even though I didn't mind the sex at the bar, I wished there was something more for me out there. Since Mom's death it was sad coming home to nobody.

Carlos knew a few of the girls at the college and would invite them to the club. He let them know it was a biker bar and what we did after hours. It was hard to believe how many college girls would come on most weekends. I guess they wanted to feed their wild side. We didn't have many clean cut college guys, if we had any at all. These were rough, tough men working hard jobs.

It wasn't always the same girls but had the same outcome. They would drink, smoke a little weed and get laid. Sometimes someone tried to sneak in hard drugs but if Butch caught them they would be banned for life from the bar. Most of the bikers kept to Butch's rules.

The way I met Sheila was she came to the bar with a couple of her girlfriends one weekend. After the bar closed she joined right in and began drinking and smoking the weed. She seemed different to me and I kept my eye on her. Carlos was the first to fuck her. I just shook my head; why would a girl like that get messed up and give herself like that? She was quite out of it and got passed around. Everyone always liked to try the new girls.

I mentioned that some of the bikers had a wife or girlfriend who sometimes came by the bar. Carlos had a girlfriend that he has had for fourteen years, Sharon. They had lived together and had two kids and but never got married.