Read Online A LIL' LESS LOST (The Kingsmen Book 2) by Tara Oakes - Free Book Online
Authors: Tara Oakes
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the back of his hand across his mouth to rid himself of the foam collected in his stubble. He turned his stool to face me.
"I suppose I do...." He squinted his eyes at me, taking me in. "Seems you need a sponsor, son. But, it's not gonna be me.”
I heard the words. They hung in the air between us refusing to fade away. My pop had raised me in this world, his world. I was primed since I was shitting in my own diapers to ride with this club. But pop never just gave me things, handing them up on a silver platter. He made me earn them. I never knew how far he would go with it though, if it would carry over to my claiming my rightful place here.
The room fell silent around us, with these men serving audience to our fucked-up father/son power play. Clink cleared his throat, setting his shoulders back and tall. “I'll vouch for the kid.”
We all directed ourselves in his direction, except pop who kept his focus on me.
“I nominate him. I take responsibility for him,” Clink finished.
And that was it. Clink had stepped up for me, spread his wing and took me under it. I knew the kind of man my pop was. Nothing was given to him in life, he took it, everything he had. It didn't mean he wanted me to fail, it just meant he wanted me to know I had done it on my own. That was my first lesson in how to deal with Vince, the president. Not to be confused with Vince, my pop.
That night Tiny and I were treated like kings with a huge party thrown at the clubhouse to celebrate the incoming prospects. There were four of us then. Tiny, Chris P. (later known as 'Trojan'), some kid named Pete who barely made it a month, and me.
We partied hard that night, drinking ourselves to toxic levels. Each brother bought us rounds and shots, testing our resolve. The music was blaring, heavy rock beats giving us our own soundtrack to the first night of our new lives. The pussy was in endless supply tonight, crawling around making themselves useful and offering themselves up to whomever felt the urge. These women were skilled, experienced in how to handle the groping hands and hungry dicks.
Clink had bought the latest round and was comfortable in the chair across the table from me with some bar slut sprawled across his lap, giggling as he whispered into her ear and tickled his fingers into the crotch of her very visible pink lace panties beneath her microscopic skirt. I eyed them, sipping my warming beer and felt the blood draining down into my dick. This bitch had made her way through the club over the past few weeks, showing up and serving the brothers well. She was given a pretty decent rating by the brothers, a solid four out of five stars. Very few of these sluts earned the full five stars, it took some real talent to reach that level of self depreciation.
Her bottle blonde hair was all teased out and her “fuck me” red lips were licking over themselves as Clink played her with his hand and teased her with his words. The show was worth watching, and I was more than willing to take it in.
The sweet butt shot her eyes over to me and Clink chuckled to himself while withdrawing his once missing fingers and patted her drench-stained mound approvingly. She scuttled herself up from Clink's cushion and made her way over to me, leaning over to me spilling her artificial cleavage in my face, jiggling those double D, overly-tanned melons above my mouth. She smelled like several men's colognes mixed together, but damn those tits looked delicious. They probably cost some sucker a pretty penny but, mmm , were they a good investment.
My dick was now struggling against the denim, tenting it. The chick reached down and grabbed my hand, her brightly painted claws pressing around my fingers. “Follow me, darlin'. I don't usually do prospects but consider it a graduation present.”
I practically jumped up taking one last swig of my beer and followed the pretty thing to the back of the room, behind the bar and into the delivery hallway hidden with a
"I suppose I do...." He squinted his eyes at me, taking me in. "Seems you need a sponsor, son. But, it's not gonna be me.”
I heard the words. They hung in the air between us refusing to fade away. My pop had raised me in this world, his world. I was primed since I was shitting in my own diapers to ride with this club. But pop never just gave me things, handing them up on a silver platter. He made me earn them. I never knew how far he would go with it though, if it would carry over to my claiming my rightful place here.
The room fell silent around us, with these men serving audience to our fucked-up father/son power play. Clink cleared his throat, setting his shoulders back and tall. “I'll vouch for the kid.”
We all directed ourselves in his direction, except pop who kept his focus on me.
“I nominate him. I take responsibility for him,” Clink finished.
And that was it. Clink had stepped up for me, spread his wing and took me under it. I knew the kind of man my pop was. Nothing was given to him in life, he took it, everything he had. It didn't mean he wanted me to fail, it just meant he wanted me to know I had done it on my own. That was my first lesson in how to deal with Vince, the president. Not to be confused with Vince, my pop.
That night Tiny and I were treated like kings with a huge party thrown at the clubhouse to celebrate the incoming prospects. There were four of us then. Tiny, Chris P. (later known as 'Trojan'), some kid named Pete who barely made it a month, and me.
We partied hard that night, drinking ourselves to toxic levels. Each brother bought us rounds and shots, testing our resolve. The music was blaring, heavy rock beats giving us our own soundtrack to the first night of our new lives. The pussy was in endless supply tonight, crawling around making themselves useful and offering themselves up to whomever felt the urge. These women were skilled, experienced in how to handle the groping hands and hungry dicks.
Clink had bought the latest round and was comfortable in the chair across the table from me with some bar slut sprawled across his lap, giggling as he whispered into her ear and tickled his fingers into the crotch of her very visible pink lace panties beneath her microscopic skirt. I eyed them, sipping my warming beer and felt the blood draining down into my dick. This bitch had made her way through the club over the past few weeks, showing up and serving the brothers well. She was given a pretty decent rating by the brothers, a solid four out of five stars. Very few of these sluts earned the full five stars, it took some real talent to reach that level of self depreciation.
Her bottle blonde hair was all teased out and her “fuck me” red lips were licking over themselves as Clink played her with his hand and teased her with his words. The show was worth watching, and I was more than willing to take it in.
The sweet butt shot her eyes over to me and Clink chuckled to himself while withdrawing his once missing fingers and patted her drench-stained mound approvingly. She scuttled herself up from Clink's cushion and made her way over to me, leaning over to me spilling her artificial cleavage in my face, jiggling those double D, overly-tanned melons above my mouth. She smelled like several men's colognes mixed together, but damn those tits looked delicious. They probably cost some sucker a pretty penny but, mmm , were they a good investment.
My dick was now struggling against the denim, tenting it. The chick reached down and grabbed my hand, her brightly painted claws pressing around my fingers. “Follow me, darlin'. I don't usually do prospects but consider it a graduation present.”
I practically jumped up taking one last swig of my beer and followed the pretty thing to the back of the room, behind the bar and into the delivery hallway hidden with a
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