TWATKNOT
Sturgis fucking South Dakota,home to the world’s largest biker rally. Ten days filled with endless debauchery, concerts, bikes, and pussy. The closest thing to heaven for a guy like me, and it’s all mine to conquer.
I take in the scene around me under the hot rays of the summer sun. Grassy fields where tents and RVs of all shapes, sizes, and colors fill every possible space. The roar of hundreds of motorcycles almost drown out the music blaring from the pavilion to our left, where a shitty rock band is playing. The good bands won’t be here until later in the week, but even the shitty ones add to the spirit of the rally.
Throwing out my arms, I holler, “Daddy’s fucking home, baby!”
“I’mnotcalling you Daddy, fucker,” I hear from over my shoulder. I turn to see Priest sneering, fumbling with the poles to his tent. “Fucking piece of shit.”
What should be a five-minute setup is now going on twenty. I would’ve been finished with mine already, but watching V and him struggle is way too much fun. Rookies, the both of them. I tried telling them to put it up before we left so they’d know how to put it together, and not look like complete dumbasses in front of the ladies. Obviously, neither of them listened.
All he has to do is ask for help, but he’s a stubborn asshole.
“Need a hand over there, boy scout?” I laugh, but all he does is glare at me.
I wonder if he ever looked at the nuns like that? Hell, maybe it was his smoldering looks, melting the nuns’ panties that caused him to leave the church. All I know is that one of these days, I’ll get him to tell me why he left it to join our club. Though he’s been tight-lipped about it all, I’m pretty sure GP might know his story, but he’s an even tougher nut to crack. Maybe when I catch one of them nice and relaxed, they’ll let it slip… with the help of a few bottles of whiskey, of course.
Bending down, he grabs two of the poles. Once they're connected, he attempts to insert it into the tent’s sleeve, all the while holding the instructions in the same hand. Then halfway through, the pole comes apart.
“Motherfucker!”
“Language, Father,” I tease.
“Fuck you, man,” he growls, flinging the tent to the ground. “Tell me again why the club is at the Holiday Inn, sleeping on beds in air-conditioned rooms, while we’re roughing it out here in Satan’s ass crack?”
The old ladies are the reason the guys aren’t here and are at the hotel, which is fine by me. It just means more beer and pussy for the rest of us.
“The experience,” I say matter-of-fact. “This is your first rally, and you’d be doing yourself a disservice by not experiencing it the way it was meant to be. You need to see it like I did for the first time.” Damn, those are some great memories. “This is Sturgis central, where all the good shit happens. It’s not in town or on Main Street—it’s right here.”
It’s been years since we’ve made the trek up here from Texas. After all the shit we’ve been through, this trip is just what we needed. A chance to relax and take a load off from all bullshit back home. Well, for some of us, anyway. With GP’s old lady knocked up, he wasn’t about to take off and leave her to help watch all the brothers’ kids. Between the two of them and Mom, who’d also signed up for babysitting duty, they’d be having a different kind of experience all together. Our club has gone from brotherhood to motherhood in a fucking flash. Not that I mind having the ladies around, or the kids, but shit’s changed fast.
“What, like loose pussy and STD tests?”
Trudging over to his pile of shit, V tosses his bedroll down on his tent bag with a huff. “I didn’t know a week of back pain and listening to you fuck around classified as an experience. Did they make you do this your first time up here as punishment? Because that’s exactly what this feels like. I’m a patch, remember? This is prospect shit.” V continues cussing up a storm while trying to get his tent out of the storage bag.
“Judge can always take the patch back, ya know?”
He flips me off, but I shake my head and smile. They have no idea what’s coming their way this week. They’re bitching now, but when we make it out on the town tonight, they’ll thank me.
“You two gonna bitch and moan the whole trip?”
“Yes,” they answer in unison. Fucking pussies.
Ignoring them, I finish up my tent. The sooner we get this shit done, the sooner we can get to the bars, and I plan on having a great fucking time, unlike these two dipshits.
Stuffing my bedroll and supplies into my new polyester home, my attention gets drawn elsewhere when a stacked little blonde with a big, juicy ass sashays by our spot. Those round cakes of hers look primed for someone like me to take a big fucking bite out of. And that little smirk she’s sending my way tells me all I need to know, that I’m the kind of guy she’s looking to play with, and I’ll happily oblige her. She stops and watches me until the two jackasses arguing over what goes where.
“It goes in slot B,” V argues, shoving the instructions into Priest’s face.
“Fuck that. It goes into slot A…” His words trail off when he spies our onlooker. Both go silent and their bodies grow stiff.Yeah, that’s right. Now you know what I’m talkin’ about, boys.
“You see what I’m seeing?” Priest asks V.
“Yup,” he responds. “Is she looking at you or me?” V runs his fingers through his hair like a bashful fucking teenager, and it takes everything I have not to laugh out loud. I mean, seriously? Between the three of us, if a woman like that is picking either of those two over me, Hell would have to be freezing over.
“Jesus,” I mutter. “You two are nuttin’ in your jeans at the first pretty little thing that walks by.” I wave at the blonde, watching a rosy blush fill her cheeks as she waves back and continues on her way, leaving the three of us watching her go. “And she was looking at me, in case you didn’t notice.”
“The fuck she was,” V argues.