The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3)

BOOK: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3)
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The Diary of Bink Cummings

 

Volume 3

 

MC Chronicles

 

Bink Cummings

 

~~~

Kindle Edition

 

Copyright © 2015 by: Bink Cummings

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

 

Proofreader/Editor- Ashley Hampton

Proofreader/Beta- Jay Samia

Cover Artist- Bink Cummings

Photo provided from: Big Stock

 

Ebook Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to the Author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

(
Note: This book/series is a work of fiction with aspects based in truth
.)

Contact the Author: Email:
[email protected]

 

 

Once again I’m here to shout my love and appreciation from the rooftops.

When people come into your lives you often wonder what in the hell God had planned for you. Why he chose to place this person in your path. I'm not a religious person, but I do feel there is a reason for everything. Fate, if you will. Which leads me to what I need to say. I know my words will never be enough but I still need to express my gratitude. Here goes nothing….

To my Clubhouse Sisters,
(you know who you are.) When I started the clubhouse on Facebook on a whim, I never would have thought to have been blessed with so many wonderful sisters to add to my family. It has been a pleasure getting to know each and every one of you. Without your constant encouragement and push, I don't think I could have completed this book on time. But I always had you to shove me forward, becoming the little voice in the back of my head when I was stuck, or down in the dumps. Your never-ending support and thoughts have helped me through the rough patches and always make me smile. I couldn't have done any of this without you. You're truly an inspiration to me, and for that, I love each and every one of you. You're beautiful, badass women, and don't you ever forget that!

To Pixie, The sweetest sister in the world.
You have been my friend, my sister, and constant sounding board for what feels like a damn lifetime. I can't imagine a life without you. Your help with my books, in life, and beyond, has made my life easier... more complete. I dunno what my life would be like without you in it. You're my cheerleader, my ass kicker. A sister that will always be there for me to make me smile, and listen to me when I feel like shit. I'm grateful for you and can't wait to celebrate many more years of you being my sister. Love you.

To Jez, The baddest bitch I know.
We have the most unique relationship I've had with any one person in my life. I can never be sure if it's the humor, kinkiness, or dominate personalities that we share, that makes us kindred spirits. But I'm forever blessed to have you walk into my life. Even if that means I have to put up with Bulk yapping my ear off just so he can make me laugh. I love you both immeasurably, and I hope to have many more years of you being my sister. Oh... and I suppose I should say thank you for constantly reading my books for me but I'm sure I'll hear, "Don't thank me you stubborn bitch, that's what we do." So to put it simply, I love ya.

To Jay, The Best Vice Prez a woman could ask for.
I know we've not known each other long, since you did come into my life right after I wrote my first book. But I can't imagine going through all of this without you. You're the best PA/ Clubhouse VP that I could ever ask for. You are the one with the level head when I'm ready to blow, and always lending a helpful hand for anything I need. You've become a true friend... a sister... and I'm thankful every day to have you in my life. You're a beautiful person inside and out. And I want you to know how grateful I am of you. You're one of a kind. Truly. Much love, Sister!

To Ashley, My Editor and Magic Maker.
Thank you for your constant help and support through my writing. Your suggestions and fixes are always spot on and you always respect the flow of my writing. I don't know where I would be without you!

Last but not least…..

To my badass Readers.
I'm not sure what to say to you except, Thank You. Thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for showing your support, promoting me, and buying my books. Thank you for your beautiful reviews that I constantly read, they warm my heart to no end. And if you're reading this book now, thank you for having read the first two volumes.

 

 

Sunday, April 13, 2014

 

“No! You listen here!” Big cocks his head to the side, fury morphing his bestial face. His lips are curled, hands fisted at his sides, and his long hair is tied back in a low ponytail with his blue bandana wrapped around his head. “You aren’t fuckin’ goin’ nowhere. Have you taken a goddamn look in the mirror, Sugar Tits?”

This isn’t an argument he can win. No matter how hard this Neanderthal tries, he’s going to have to suck it up and shut his trap. I’m sick and tired of the same shit, different day. Overprotective is one thing. This… this is him being an unreasonable, caveman asshole. I’m exhausted by it.

Crossing my legs and leaning back in the club’s new black leather couch, my hands rub my overgrown belly. I stare at him like I’m going to rip his cock and balls off and feed them to Pretzel, who happens to be sitting at attention beside my feet. Big takes a hefty step forward to reason with me, and my pup lowly snarls at him, a growl rumbling in his doggy throat.

Yeah, Big, we’ve been through this before. Come at me looking like the fuckin’ devil himself, and our dog will take a bite right outta you. Happened two weeks ago and two weeks prior to that. Not sure why Pretzel seems to think Big Dick is such a threat to me, but he does. I guess with my small body compared to Big’s, who has well over a foot and a hundred pounds on me, I can see why my dog feels the way he does. He’s a damn good dog. A miniature bodyguard, if you will.

“Are you two fightin’ again?” Gunz chides sarcastically, announcing his arrival.

Striding across the common room, Gunz takes his seat right next to me on the couch. Pretzel shifts to my other side, his body leaning against my calf, giving Gunz a wide berth. They have a truce. Gunz is never combative so Pretzel isn’t the slightest bit cautious around him.

Gunz’s hand instinctively reaches out to rub his granddaughter who will be gracing us with her presence within the next month or so. I’m thirty-two weeks into my pregnancy, and I am ready to get it over with. I want to see my daughter now. And I can’t wait to ride on a motorcycle again, sleep normal, and pee like a regular person. Not every hour, nearly on the hour, it’s seriously getting ridiculous.

Big growls, staring hateful daggers at his Sergeant of Arms as he continues to affectionately love on my belly. Gunz is my scapegoat, the only way I am going to be able to leave this damn place, without my…whatever the hell he is, hog tying me and locking me away, probably in his basement. He’s locked me down there once, and I wouldn’t put it past him to try it again.

Now…..I’m sure you’re sitting there wondering what the hell is going on… Well, I’ll tell ya…The Sacred Sisters and I have decided that before the baby arrives we want a spa weekend to ourselves. A weekend for us to be pampered away from the compound and away from our overprotective intense and sometimes asshole-ish bikers. Big, however, has forbid me from attending such weekend. Why? You might ask. ‘Cause he’s leaving with my daddy and nearly all the brothers on an important ‘
none of my fucking business
’ run that will take him away from me and the club for nearly two weeks. The only two brothers left behind will be Gunz, ‘cause El Presidente is forcing him to against his will, and Deke. It was either Deke or Viper, and with Viper’s past flirtations with me, Big thought it best to leave behind the lesser of two evils. The rest are hitting the pavement and putting some serious miles between us.

Not going to lie, at first I was sad to hear he was leaving. The past weeks together have been the best of my life having hot sex and getting my pussy ate everywhere. It’s been a horny biker bitch’s dream brought to life. Last week, during my routine baby doctor’s visit, I was informed I was no longer allowed to have sex. Something about my cervix’s preterm dilation; I’m at two centimeters, and Harley’s head is too low. So as a precaution, sex is now off the table since my doctor doesn’t want me going into preterm labor and neither do I. We’re trying to get me to thirty eight weeks or longer. This way we are one hundred percent sure Harley’s lungs are fully matured when I have the at-home water birth in the clubhouse. I’m not going to argue with my doc; she knows what she’s talking about, which means no more sex for a while. It sucks, but I can handle it.

However, this means my biker is not only leaving me for two weeks, but he’s going on a biker run with his brothers, where there is going to be a plethora of hot, no strings attached pussy readily available. Whores who are allowed to fuck. Whores who don’t have disgusting stretchmark’s that look like tree roots spreading across their lower abdomen. Whores who don’t have cankles or a belly the size of Blimp. He’ll be in biker heaven where women dress in skimpy slutbag clothes and suck cock like porn stars while they are being dp’d. This is where my trust for him, or lack thereof, becomes not only a minor annoyance, it’s eating me alive on the inside. I won’t tell him that though. I’m putting on a brave face because if I admit it to him then I will have to admit it fully to myself. That my biker is going to stray, and I am going to leave him. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I don’t share. Ever. And women, all women, throw themselves at his feet, not only because he’s the president, but he’s also sex-on-a-leather- dipped-bad-boy stick. Doesn’t hurt that this stick is six foot eight of pure feral power. And this is also the same sex-on-a-bad-boy-stick that won’t let me suck his fat cock like I want, which leaves him SOL.

Two weeks ago, another control freak bomb exploded when I tried to suck Big’s cock, and he wouldn’t let me. I was fuming. I want that cock in my mouth, and he refuses to let that damn thing anywhere near my mouth. Sure, he can lick and French kiss my pussy into multiple toe-curling orgasms anywhere he fucking pleases. Case and point, the clubhouse kitchen counter two days prior to my epic bitch-fest. He picked me up, dropped me on the island, slid my dress up, knelt between my legs, and went to town. I wailed my orgasm when it took hold. Then when I was finished, he stood up, tugged my dress back down, wiped my essence from his cocky grin, and helped me off the counter. Holding me steady as I tried to stand on wobbly post climatic legs, he bent down, shoved his hot tongue into my mouth, and devoured my lips in a punishing kiss. I tasted myself on him the whole time as my brain swirled. I became lightheaded, breathing erratic, before he broke the kiss and grabbed my hand, forcing it to feel his hard cock in its denim prison. Then he groaned, “This is what my old lady does to me. You’re fuckin’ hot, babe.”

With reluctance he released my hand blowing out a husky, lustful sigh. Then we left, headed back to hang with our family in the common room.

Then, like I was getting at, two days later I wanted his dick. He said no. I got mad, and we argued about me wanting to taste him. He refused and stormed out of the house, which is where we’ve been staying most of the time.

Pissed off, I waited a while before I tore out of the house in the middle of the night wearing pj’s and Big’s slippers. Entering the clubhouse, I found a newer club whore’s hands all over him as he took shot after shot of the Three Wise Men—which is Jim, Jack and Johnny all in one—potent stuff.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” I demanded, slapping the fourth shot glass out of his hand. The contents had already been consumed by Sir Asshole himself.

“Gettin’ drunk. What’d ya think?” he replied deadpan, hunched over the bar, halfcocked elbows perched on the lip, refusing to spare a glance my way. Then he reached for another shot my brother had set on the bar for him. I slapped it away. The liquid splashed across the black bar top, and the whore seethed in my direction, her dainty fingers openly caressing up his arm, across his broad shoulders, and back again.

“Can I help you?” I sneered at the beautiful, half-dressed redhead, wishing my eyes were lasers, so they could sear her fingers clean off. Didn’t work though. That’s when my night became utter hell.

To make a long story short, I took in a deep breath to ready myself. Stepping around Big’s barstool, I reached out and tore ruthlessly at the bitch’s hair. I threw her to the ground, hand wrapped around her thick red mane. Served her right for even thinking it was okay to touch my man. I’m not very nice about sharing. Big, drunk off his ass, found this hot. Not just a little hot, but rub his hard dick in earnest over his jeans kinda hot. So like the fucking caveman he is, he stopped rubbing and came at me. Big carried me screaming from the common room to his clubhouse bedroom, where he handcuffed me to the bed and forcefully ate my pussy again. All the while I screamed at him to let me go. I didn’t even orgasm; I was too pissed off and full of rage. But what did the asshole do? When he’d had his pussy fill, leaving his mouth sopping wet, he rubbed his fat fucking monstrous cock all over my pussy and jacked off. When he came, he shot his come all over my pussy lips and asshole.

I was so furious, so full of molten rage that I wanted to tie him up and slowly torture him to death. I played my sick fantasy on a reel in my head, over and over, as he pleasured himself between my legs. In my dream I was going to cut all of his beautiful hair off first and make him eat it. Then I was going to tie a rubber band around his balls and slap them with a kitchen spoon until he begged for me to stop. And then, when I had gotten my fill, I was going to find leeches and attach them to his dick. When I was done, I was going to shoot him in the dick and watch him bleed to death. A little fucked up, don’t ya think? Yeah… so, I know that’s morbid as shit, but he makes me that livid sometimes. Sometimes, I would seriously consider playing out my sick and twisted fantasy, just to enact some sort of vengeance for how much he pisses me off. Don’t worry though, I’ve been a good girl.

That night ended by me wearing myself out screaming and flailing in bed, still cuffed, until I passed out. Big slept next to me naked, hand cupping my breast. The next morning when we woke up he uncuffed me, and I didn’t even hesitate when I nailed him in his junk with my fist, then sprinted to the bathroom. How dare a man leave a pregnant woman to hold her pee for that damn long? He fell like a sack of potatoes to the floor, hands over his balls, writhing in pain. I watched it all as I relieved myself in the bathroom. Serves him right for forcing me to do shit I didn’t want any part in. Don’t think he’ll try that again, and maybe he won’t need to be tortured to death.

Okay, enough with that drama… so that was one bad night among the many good ones. Let’s just say that Big and I have come far. He hasn’t touched another woman after he promised he wouldn’t. He’s been loyal to the core, which has surprised the hell outta me. He’s been sweet, funny, and attentive. Sure we have our epic fights, what couple doesn’t? And with my temper and his control freakiness, we’re bound to have more than most. But, if I’m being honest with myself and with you, I’m sublimely happy most of the time.

There is nothing better than waking up in the morning to a warm, naked, tattooed, and sexy as sin biker curled around your body in bed with his hand cradling your daughter. It’s a beautiful thing. Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve cried about it a time or two from sheer joy. I know that’s totally fucking stupid, but it’s true. I can’t help it. Big makes me happy. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Now don’t go telling him that and giving him a big head. God knows he doesn’t need any bigger of one than he already has.

“Hello, Sugar Tits? Are you gonna fuckin’ listen to me?” Big demands, growing more aggressive, yanking me from my musings. His fury stricken face is turning redder by the second, and the veins in his neck are throbbing.

Apparently I’ve really pushed his buttons. Good, because I’m not changing my mind. I am going away this weekend with my Sacred Sisters whether he likes it or not.

“Nope, not listening,” I defiantly shake my head. “You’re being abso-fuckin-lutely unreasonable,” I speak evenly, chewing my inner cheek.

To keep my temper down to a minimum I tilt my head to the side, resting it on Gunz’s shoulder. I take in a deep cleansing breath, closing my eyes and centering myself before I create a massive scene. I don’t need this today. Today, I just need him to calm down, eat my pussy like he did this morning before this started, and let me help him pack for his two-week stint away from me and Harley. From the looks of it, I’m not going to get any of my wishes. He’s passed the pissed off stage and into the one that makes him look like he wants to dismember me and hide my body in the woods.

“Why are you so angry?” Gunz finally speaks in a calm, soothing tone.

How in the world this man has put up with Big for thirty years is beyond me. I’ve got to hand it to Gunz; he can evaporate the steam out of most heated situations. He’s the perfect mediator.

BOOK: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3)
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