Chapter 5
THE MAKING OF A "QUEEN"
"So what the hell is so different about me making it with some guys I know and like, from your squares taking on other men's wives at these goddamned 'swap parties'? Or sneaking around to motels or doing it in cars? You've got the rules all made up, baby, so they protect the so-called grownups, but I've got news for you -we ain't buying. We make our own rules. They suit us, and we keep pretty much to ourselves since all the rumbles up around Berdoo and those other horseshit towns.
"Sex is sex, and if you happen to belong to a bunch where that's about all the goddam fuzz can't mess up, it's got to be a big thing. And there ain't near enough females with the guts to break loose from the fucking silly, stupid life they live. Hell, most of them think they're really daring if they smoke a joint now and then, or if they let their boyfriend feel their pussy or even go all the way. Shit! All they'll end up doing is become drab, dull housewives, nailed down to' a crummy apartment and a flock of squalling brats. Not for me, Mac. I'm living, and I'm going to keep on living-our way!
"But I guess you're not interested in a lecture on the philosophy of a bike gang. You want to know 'how come a nice girl like you is mixed up with a bunch of filthy bums like the Saints?' Don't you? Well, maybe I can give you the straight poop-maybe not. I guess I began to want to be part of a group when I was about ten or eleven years old.
"My parents are like most of them-too goddamned busy to take any interest in what's happening to their kids. I've got two older brothers, and they just ran wild when they were kids, like I did. Nothing seemed to matter to my mother and father as long as they had those two fat paychecks coming in every week. My father is a truck driver-he hauls those long loads across county or anywhere he can get a run to. He owns his own semi-that's the cab part that hooks onto anybody's trailer. My mother is a cocktail waitress-at least she calls herself that, and she does sling drinks five nights a week in a crummy joint near our house. But, actually, she's a bigger whore than I am. With my father gone most of the time, she can run around all she pleases and he'd never know. I suppose he gets a piece of ass here and there on his runs, too, so it evens out. Lots of nights, after my mother finishes work at about two-thirty in the morning, she brings guys home. Sometimes she doesn't come home at all. Either way, she sleeps with a different guy almost every night. I don't think they give her money, but I know that some of them buy her clothes or cosmetics -even jewels.
"She just tells the old man, if he bothers to ask, that she bought them out of her wages. She makes pretty good in tips, so he doesn't question it.
"When he was seventeen, my brother Ed bought an old junkheap of a jalopy and souped it up. He used to enter drag races, and he did pretty good. I guess that's where I got my taste for speed, because he used to take me along sometimes. He even let me drive the junkheap once in a while.
"Then he got off the car kick and bought a motorcycle-a big mother that sounded like a jet plane when he took off. I was dying to ride with him, and after he put a passenger seat on it, he used to take me along. But he didn't belong to any gang or club. Ed was a loner, so I didn't hook up with the Saints through him.
"It was funny, in a way, how I did come to join.
"Ed used to run his wheels into a repair and doodad shop near our home. It was called Big Ben's, and it was run by a giant of a man. Ben was about forty, I guess, but he dressed real hippie style. He had a beard and moustache and long hair, and he always wore blue denims, with a death's head sewn on the back of the jacket. He also had a big block letter M on his sleeve, but I didn't know then that it meant he used marihuana. Anyhow, he was accepted by the motorcycle guys, both the regular clubbers and the Wild Ones. Ben rode a cycle, but he never belonged to a group. He always said he was way too busy, keeping the other guys' wheels running. He had gray hair in his beard, but his hair on his head was bright blond. He dyed it, and I suppose he had a lot of gray there, too, because later I found that he had a lot of gray pubic hairs, too.
"I was twelve when I began to hang around the shop-not to try to make it with Ben, but to latch onto one of the real hotshot riders. I always did like speed, and the cycles really turned me on-like a lot of girls can get turned on by rock music, or being felt up. I used to get hot in the crotch just watching and listening to the big mothers roar around a curve, or flat out and hit the top of the needle. That means to let it al! out and hit top speed.
"Most of the guys wouldn't have anything to do with me, because I was so young, but it was partly because my brother was known as a hothead, and he didn't care what he used to deck a guy with-a piece of chain, a wrench or a bottle, anything that was handy. And if he couldn't grab something, Ed would just wade in with feet, fists, and teeth. He'd already put one guy in the hospital, after the guy had said Ed cheated with his Mama. I didn't know what that meant, then, and I was mixed up because I knew that this guy, Ricky something, didn't even have any parents. But I know now what a Mama is, because I've been one for more than two years.
"But I didn't start out with the Saints. I told you before, they thought I was just jailbait and used to slough me off whenever I'd try make the scene with my brother or on my own. But then I got together with Ben. Funny, but that's how I started on kicks-with bennies-that means Benzedrine, and they drive you to talking jags. I think I react to them the same as everyone else does-they make me wide-awake and ready to go, but I've got to talk to somebody when I'm on 'em.
"Ben was different than the others. He paid some attention to me and treated me as if I was old enough to know my way around.
"I had begun to fill out when I turned twelve, and I started to have my monthlies, and to me that meant I was ready to really roll. I was a cherry, although I had had my pussy fingered and sucked by a couple of older joes. One of them was my uncle that I visited up in Salinas once in a while, and the others were guys that hung around with my brother, Ed. They weren't so old, and they didn't know a hell of a lot about sucking or fingering like my uncle did. I think my old lady got wise to what he was doing, though, because after I was eleven, she wouldn't let me go up there and visit anymore. My aunt never knew what was going on because she was sick most of her life and down in bed a lot.
"What I'm saying is, by the time I was beginning to feel like I had a woman's body, I began to get pretty horny, too. Oh, I masturbated a lot, but that wasn't much fun-not after having men suck me off and play with my cunt and asshole.
"I got in the habit of dropping in on Big Ben two or three times a week, and he used to fool around a little-just playing with my nipples and grabbing me by the cunt or the ass once in a while. But he was turning me on and getting me ready, I'll tell you. I wasn't hung up on him or anything, but he was a big motherfucker, and once in a while, when he'd feel my cunt, I could see his big dong shoving against his blue jeans, and it made me wonder just what it would be like to have it in me.
"Then Ben broke me in on, pot. We used to have some pretty high times, just him and me, and I was high on grass the first time I got fucked. Ben had closed up the shop and we went to his pad. He lived in a three-room joint up over the shop and he had it all fixed up groovy. Stereo, color TV, a little bar, couches all over the place, and a good supply of beer. He always bought beer a half-dozen cases at a time and kept it on hand for the Saints and a few others that ganged up at his joint once in a while.
"We went to his pad and he broke out some gin, but I didn't drink it. It made me sick to drink anything but beer in those days. So Ben got out a few sticks and asked me if I'd ever turned on with that. I told him I hadn't, but that this was as good a time as any. I'd talked to some of the kids that were on the weed, and they all said it didn't hurt you afterwards, and that when you floated on the grass it was real jivey, so I wasn't scared of it. Besides, I wanted to see what that cock of Big Ben's looked and felt like.
"I began smoking, inhaling deep, like he told me to, and in a little while everything began to get happy. Ben looked like Paul Newman to me then, and I began to get horny as hell. Ben belted down about three good shots of straight gin, then he began to fool around. He took off my blouse-I wasn't wearing a bra-and he sucked my tits awhile. He was running his hand over my thighs and letting his fingers touch my slit every once in a while, and I noticed that his cock was busting out the jeans, it was so goddamn hard.
"Ben stood up and told me to take off my skirt and panties. I was feeling frisky by then, and I told him, Take 'em off yourself, cocky.' He knew I was in the mood all right, because he didn't argue, and Ben was the kind of a guy that nobody-man or woman-ordered around. He had long ago shown the Saints and a lot of others that he didn't take any shit from anyone, so when he took my skirt and panties off, I knew he really was hooked on me.
"He stripped off his jeans and out popped the biggest cock I'd ever dreamed of! Ben then moved in close, so that his dick was almost under my nose when I sat on one of the couches. I was dragging on my third stick, and I just reached out and grabbed it and pulled him closer to me. I would take a drag of the weed, then a suck of his cock, and he got hot as hell. He pushed me back on the couch and took the stick away from me. He climbed aboard my chest and straddled me without letting his weight come down on me. He'd have crushed me to death if he had. He weighed over 300, and his dick looked like a baseball bat when he put it up close to my mouth.
"I wanted it bad, so I went to work on it with my lips and tongue and teeth, while I massaged his balls. He bent forward and leaned on his outstretched arms, and began to jab away, fucking me in the mouth. I knew what come was, and I expected him to shoot into my mouth, but not the goddamn load that he did! Christ, I almost gagged to death, trying to swallow it, and some of it dribbled out of the corners of my mouth.
"He pushed until I felt the throbbing of that giant cock stop and then took it out. My jaws ached, but I was hot as a firecracker, so I just laid back and told him it was my turn.
"I don't suck cunts, baby," he said. He wasn't nasty about it, but I knew he meant it. "But I'll give you the ride of your life, hot shit." He laughed when he called me that and spread my legs wide as he slid down on my body. He knelt on the floor beside the couch and pulled me over to him so that his cock was about even with my cunt. I could feel the wetness of it, and I propped myself up a little so I could see what he was doing.
"He put his hands under my ass and pulled me almost onto his prick. Then, with one hand, he guided that one-eyed monster into the lips of my pussy. It was my first time, but I was ready I'd masturbated enough, just imagining how it would feel to have a solid prick stabbing into me, and if ever there was a good one, Ben had it.
"It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I'd been fed a lot of shit about that when I used to listen to my aunt-the one in Salinas-spout off about keeping my 'virginity' for the man I married, and I guess I did believe some of it. But it didn't hurt, and when Ben got his cock all oiled up from my wet pussy, and it began to slip in and out pretty easily, I concentrated on the feeling that he was sending through me. Man, what a prong he had! It rubbed my clit on the way in, then caught it on the outstroke, and when the head of it penetrated all the way, he rammed it home into the inner walls of my cunt. I felt like I was bleeding a little, but it turned out that it was only my juices and a few drops that seeped from Ben's cock before he really shot his wad.
"He was a real slow starter-maybe because he was afraid of hurting me, but when he did get into the swing of it, he grabbed my ass and pulled me in to meet every stroke of his cock! He was driving me wild, and I guess I was doing him pretty good, too, because he was grunting and half-moaning, and when I locked my legs around his big hips as far as they would go, and began to spur him, like you would a horse, he really came on like a big daddy.
"I had one come about a minute after he started, and it was a good one, but nothing like the lightning that struck my cunt when he came! Man, he was really pumping, and I felt like his cock had to be coming out of my belly button, he was going so deep. I began to bounce my ass around, and he just let go with his whole lower body and swung it in and out of my cunt! When he shot into me, it felt like hot lead, but I was coming, too, and I didn't think much about what was happening until later. It was like I was going a thousand miles an hour in a plane, way up above the clouds. You know, a lot of girls can almost have an orgasm when they ride a set of wheels real fast, and I've heard that girls can really come when they make a sky dive, and that's what happened to me. I was way out of it, man, and I felt like I'd never come down.
"All this horseshit about it being painful when you have your cherry busted is a lot of bullshit. I loved every second of it and I wanted more. I kept on pumping, but Ben's cock went soft, so I pushed him away and went down on it. It was covered with sticky white goo, but I didn't care. I wanted to get it hot and hard again so he could drive me up to those clouds with it.
"He laid back while I sucked him hard again, and then he got up, rolled me over and told me to get on my hands and knees. I was afraid that he was going to try to shove that big mother up my asshole, but he didn't. He stuck it up inside my cunt, and it was an altogether different feeling than the straight fuck was. He went in a lot deeper, and the angle of his prick made it so that he missed hitting my clit. I just reached down and massaged it with my fingers, and when he began to speed it up, so did I. When he shot into my cunt again, I had another come, and then we both just rolled away from each other and laid there gasping, but feeling like we were high as a kite on something.
"Ben looked over at me and said, 'You're really something, doll. Where did you ever learn to fuck and suck like that?'
"I told him that that was my first fuck and also my first suck job, so I guess it came natural to me. He laughed at that and protested, 'You're shitting me, kid. Nobody naturally knows how to blow a guy and take a big cock like you did.'
"I told him that it was the truth, and now that he had broken the ice, we ought to have a ball together every so often.
"We made it often after that. Big Ben even sucked my cunt a couple of times-but only enough to get me warmed up-he never sucked it until I came.
"Then he got loaded one night and spread the word that I was an easy lay, and that I was a goddamn good one. I didn't find that out until later, of course, but it wasn't long after that that Duke came around and asked me if I wanted to go for a spin with him and some of the Saints. Duke is the leader, and he's a tough mother. He's put a few guys in the hospital with his fists and bottles and lengths of chain, and they say that he killed one guy in a chicken race. Duke was passing this guy on a curve and ran him over an embankment that had a drop of two hundred feet. That was out in the rugged mountains near Saugus, and I never heard if they found the guy's bike or his body. But after I got to know Duke for the mean mother he is, I believed the story.
"I had seen Duke around, but he never even noticed me until after Ben blew his mouth off. Not that I minded, because Duke is my old man. No, that doesn't mean we're married-it just means that when it comes to sex of any kind, Duke calls the shots. He gets me first if he wants to, and if he doesn't, he still has to okay it for some of the other guys.
"But you don't get to be a 'Queen,' or as some call it, a 'Mama,' overnight. You have to earn your place, even fight for it sometimes. I had to fight Gloria for my spot, but I wanted in so bad that I'd have cut her fucking throat if I had to. I was really hung up on Duke by then, and I wasn't about to let anyone outfuck or outmaneuver me to get him. I never was one to hang back and take what comes, and I wanted into the Saints, all the way in-to the top spot. That's the Mama or the Queen, and that's what I am today. But it wasn't as easy as I might make it sound. It took a lot of sucking and fucking, and some pretty wild actions to get there, but it was worth it to me."
The narrator is 15-year-old Goldie A. She is, as she claims, the Queen or Mama or Old Lady of one of California's many outlaw motorcycle gangs. It might be well to take an up-to-date look at these hoodlums on wheels who have been a thorn in the side of California's law officers and private citizens alike, as well as many unfortunate merchants whose places of business have been wrecked or looted by the leather-jacketed thugs.
In the fifties, a new element of undesirables appeared on the California scene. They rode motorcycles, stole or conned for a living, raided small towns, wrecked saloons and stores, terrorized citizens and defied lawmen. They wore black leather jackets and most wore beards and moustaches. All smelled to high heaven, and all were dedicated to a tight brotherhood. Their daring was almost beyond belief, as was their cruel and utter disrespect for law or decency.
They thundered into sleepy California towns from San Francisco to San Diego, and they trigged a host of similar clubs all across the nation. None, however, ever attained the power by sheer numbers that the California parent group did. They called themselves, aptly enough, "Hell's Angels," though there was nothing angelic about demons on wheels who wreaked havoc wherever they rode.
They were a tight-knit group, as Goldie has indicated, and their ultimate weapon was shock, whether in physical acts of terror, or of conduct in the sexual area. To be a member in good standing, and to gain the respect of the gang members, a cyclist had to prove himself by performing several "mind-blowers"-acts that defied reason and sanity for sheer wanton cruelty and filth.
In their wake came the "camp followers"-girls who willingly or unwillingly joined the thrill-a-minute gangs and who often provided sex for an entire group. When a girl became a "Mama" or a "Queen" as Goldie did, it signified that she was wide open to sex encounters with any member of the gang-provided the leader (to whom she nominally belonged) gave his okay. If she was detected having sexual encounters with other than a gang member-and especially with a member of a rival gang-she was usually beaten, scarred with knives or acid, and hospitalized by the gang.
The menace became so great that a special commission was appointed to study the phenomenon and to make recommendations to the Attorney General's office as to what steps could be taken to rid the countryside of the raiders on cycles. The report is much too detailed to quote here, but it documented several "raids" on small towns, as well as attacks on individuals. However, the gangs were like will-o'-the-wisps. They would disappear into some of the dry desert areas for a time, then sweep down in a lightning raid. Or they would head for the arid mountain fastnesses of the southern California area. They plundered and maimed. They defied lawmen when they did encounter them, and they lived like old-time outlaws-off the land, foraging food, beer, parts of their bikes, materials for shelter, and, on occasion, even girls to service their sexual needs.
They were written about in national magazines and in local newspapers, and films were even made extolling their nefarious activities. Graphic as these were they did not divulge the real viciousness of the groups-particularly in the field of sex-and the utter depravity of the sex appetites of both male and female members.
Members of such outlaw motorcycle clubs are usually very willing to talk to newsmen and writers of other media; however, it's absurd to try to make any sense of their spouting, for they take advantage of any opportunity to whine and plead their case. They come through, in their own words, as truly persecuted "angels" who just happen to like speed. They refuse to acknowledge that they are lawbreakers, and always insist that when trouble starts it is always the other party who is the instigator and aggressor.
They have diminished somewhat in numbers, largely due to the fine efforts of California law enforcement officers and the cooperation of a large segment of motorcycle enthusiasts who have formed legitimate clubs that are counseled by highway patrolmen and the Department of Motor Vehicles brass. They abide by all traffic rules, including those that call for respecting the rights of others, and they have "siphoned off a great many motorcyclists who might have been coerced into joining the outlaws, had not the authorities provided places where they might hold meets, races, and exhibitions of skill under well-supervised instruction.
Still, there is a hard-core element of cyclists who will never submit themselves to rules of law and order. They are as rebellious as are the hard-core "protest groups" at our universities, or the Black Panthers. They have, however, been unable to penetrate the so-called Hippie groups, primarily because they do not settle in one area long. They are sometimes driven out by the very members they seek to emulate, as happened in Berkeley at the height of the protest movements.
Since we are primarily interested here in the sex activities of young girls who seduce older men, we shall return to Goldie's account, for, in its sheer frankness, it may bring the shocking and nauseating acts of such individuals into clearer focus. This, in itself, may be a step toward understanding the motivation of these almost animal-like creatures and their female counterparts, and with understanding, hopefully, there may one day evolve a suitable and effective antidote.
"At first, when Duke came right out and told me that Big Ben said he'd been making it with me, I thought he'd make a pitch for me himself, but I had a lot to learn about Duke and the rest of the bunch.
"First, he had an old lady, and that meant that I'd have to really battle her if I wanted to take her place. I would also have to pull a mind-blower that would make Duke want me as his Mama. Ben filled me in on a lot of the things that a girl had to do to even make it into the gang, let alone become top fuck.
"And I kept making it with Ben, too, to show Duke that I was for real. Ben played along with me, once I told him what I wanted to do. He fixed it so that I took on him and two of his older friends, while Duke and Animal and Hot-nuts were watching. And I mean I really took them to town. I sucked one of their cocks, while Ben got me from the rear, and I jerked the third one off at the same time.
"Duke came around later on and told me that he just might give me a ride sometime, if I wanted to show him how I made love to a real man. He made his point clear by adding, 'Not some fat old fucker that has to get his rocks off inside of two minutes, but a real man that can go for hours.'
"I sure hoped he was talking about himself, because I couldn't think of anything else now, but getting to be Duke's Mama. He is a good-looking sonofabitch, with black hair and brown eyes, and he has a scar that runs across his nose and cheek, from a motorcycle pileup he was in a while back. And was he built!
"That was all I needed-a chance at a hunk of man like him. I was flippant when I told him, 'Any time, big boy,' but I meant it.
"I thought it would be just him and me, but a didn't turn out that way. He came by school one day on his wheels and told me to jump on. I got on the passenger's seat and grabbed him around the waist. Did he ever give me a ride! He headed for the open country out towards the desert, and he left the road and headed over a bumpy trail that seemed to lead to nowhere. But finally we came to a ramshackle place that seemed to be falling down. Somebody had patched the wall with some corrugated sheet metal, but I wouldn't have bet that the whole heap wouldn't fall down at any minute. I saw a lot of big cycles parked outside, and I guess I knew then that I wasn't going to make it with Duke alone.
"We parked his bike and went in. The place was a mess. There was hundreds of empty beer cans on the floor, a couple of torn mattresses, an old oil stove, and a few lanterns. That was it. But they all gave a big hello to Duke when he came in. One dirty-looking broad ran forward and hugged Duke, but he pushed her away and told her to cool it, and she looked daggers at me and went to a dark corner and sulked.
"Duke introduced me, saying, 'This is Goldie. If she can make it, she's gonna be your next Mama. He glared over at the girl who had hugged him, as if to dare her to say a word or make a move. I could see most of the guys eyeing me up and down, and I thought I saw some real yen for me showing in most of their eyes, I knew I was filling out good, and I wore extra-tight clothes to show off what I had. But I wasn't interested in them-I wanted to make it with Duke-so bad I could taste it.
"Somebody tossed him a can of beer, and he pulled the top off and took a good swig. Then he pointed to one of the girls sitting between two guys that were feeling the hell out of her tits and her crotch. She had blue jeans on and she didn't look as if she'd had a bath in a month. Duke said loudly to her: 'You got the rag on, Sue?' The girl nodded. She seemed almost proud that she was menstruating, even though she looked plenty old enough. Duke nodded and swigged some more beer.
"Take off your jeans." He ordered the girl. She got up and quickly took off her blue jeans, standing there bare from the waist down. I could see a bloodstained Kotex showing between the lips of her pussy, and the sanitary belt she wore to support it.
"Lay down," Duke commanded, and she laid down on one of the filthy mattresses, her legs spread wide so that everybody could see that awful-looking sanitary napkin with all the blood showing clearly. Duke turned to me. "I hear you want to make it with us," he said. I didn't really want to make it with us-I wanted to make it with him, but I managed a smile and said, "That's right, man."
"You got the guts to do whatever any one of us tells you?" he asked me. I just nodded, thinking that he would make me suck him off, or maybe even one of the others. Or maybe he wanted to see if I'd take it up the ass if he told me to. Whatever he wanted, I was ready-I knew that. I just wanted to get down to the nitty-gritty with Duke, fuck him until his prick was sore.
"Okay, baby," he sneered at me. "Go over and take that cunt pad out of Sue's fuckbox-" He paused a minute and looked at all the smiling faces around him. They were all watching me closely. "--with your teeth!"
"I think I must have turned pale, because I felt a cold chill go over me. I've never fucked around with dames. I don't go for that lesbian shit. I like cocks. But I knew that this was the real test, and I had to pass it or I was out on my ear-no Duke-no anybody.
"I went over and knelt between her outstretched legs. I could smell the odor of blood and sweat coming from her crummy body, and it almost gagged me. I closed my eyes and started to unpin the sanitary napkin, but Duke roared, 'I said with your teeth, you dumb cunt!'
"I closed my eyes and held my breath and leaned forward and took a good bite of the goddamned soggy rag and yanked back with all my might. The pad tore away from the safety pins and I fell back, the bloody Kotex in my teeth!
"A big shout went up from all the guys except Duke. He walked over to me and took the napkin out of my mouth and tossed it aside.
"Okay, cunt-now suck that bleeding snatch!" he said.
"I didn't think I could do it, bad as I wanted to get in good with him. I put my hands to my mouth, in an unconscious gesture, and I think I gasped. Looking down into that wide-spread cunt with the dark blotches of blood showing on the lips and in the hair that was close to the slit, I didn't think I could do it without fainting. The smell alone was enough to make me puke.
"I started to appeal to Duke, but he cut me short. 'Suck it-and then spit out some blood, so I know that you really did suck it!' he snarled.
"I took a deep breath and put my lips to her cunt. I tried not to think of what I was doing, and it helped a little. Finally, I fastened my lips to her cunt lips and sucked as hard as I could. I could taste the brassy taste of blood in my mouth, and I tore my lips away and spat a mouthful of spit at Duke's feet. It was flecked with blood, and I could hardly keep from vomiting when I looked at it.
"But Duke was laughing, and he slapped me on the back and said, 'Good going, baby. You're okay. You're in.' He took my arm and helped me up and then he began undressing while all the others clapped, applauding my performance.
"Duke looked over at me and said, 'Come on, babe-I said you're in. You're my old lady now. Let's get with it and show these guys how you can fuck and suck!'
"I stripped in nothing flat. I got a kick out of the low whistles when the gang saw my pert saucy tits and my nice flat stomach and curvy hips. I could see that they admired me and envied Duke, and it gave me a real glow on.
"When we were naked, Duke laid down and told me to 'give him a trip around the world.' I knew what he meant, and I got down and licked and sucked his flesh from his ears down to his toes, then back up the other side. I even rolled him over a little and reamed out his asshole with my tongue. I could hear 'ohs' from the guys, and once in a while they would make a remark that told me that I was doing all right.
"Duke was rolling and groaning in pleasure when I finally closed my mouth over his beautiful prick and began to really suck it. It didn't take him two minutes to shoot his load, and I kept on sucking it until it was hard as nails again, then I just climbed on top of him, straddling his cock. He helped me guide his prong in, and then I laid down flat on his body, sucking tongues with him.
"He reached down and took both my ass cheeks and used them to pull me up and down on his prong, and was I ever turned on! To this day, it's my favorite fucking position, with me on top of the guy. It makes you feel as if you're the boss, and that always did give me a kick.
"I came twice while Duke was coming once, and my second one was a real peachy one. I tingled all over as I felt Duke's cock gradually slowing in the throbbing and bucking. He pushed me off and turned to the girl who was still sulking in the corner. 'Wipe me off, cunt!' he called to her. She came out with a handkerchief. She looked as sour as a lemon, but she wiped his cock clean.
"Duke turned to the gang and said loudly, 'Goldie is my old lady. Anybody wants seconds, they have to see me first.' He turned to me, and his eyes were hard and cold. 'I catch you fucking or sucking anyone that I don't okay, and you get the living shit beat out of you and you get tossed out on your ass! Got that?' I just nodded and he began to get dressed.
"I was just Duke's girl for about three months. Then he brought in a new little snot named Colleen. She was even younger than I am, and it burned my ass to see him go through that old routine with the bloody rag, but I was already too far gone on him to risk being thrown out, so I just sat and burned.
"Afterwards, he told the gang that I was a Mama, and that I was up for grabs. It wasn't so bad, because there were several of the guys that I knew were already after my ass, and we had a real ball from there on. It's the rule that once a leader turns you over to the gang, and you become a Mama, he can't do anything about who you fuck or suck. I didn't have Duke very often, but I found that there were a lot of good stiff pricks in that wild bunch, and I balled it with all of them. I finally settled down with Big Pete-a tall, broad-shouldered blond guy about thirty. He was solid-I mean, he took care of me. I stayed at his place over a garage in San Berdoo, and for most of the week it was just me and him. On weekends, we would all meet, and then anybody could have a go at me.
"I've been busted twice for lewd and indecent conduct-once when Big Pete fucked me in a little beer bar in Rialto-that's a little burg outside of Pomona. He laid me right on the goddamned counter, and the yokels that were in the joint at the time almost blew their minds. I doubt if some of the silly bastards had ever seen a naked cunt before, but nobody tried to stop us, after Duke rapped the bartender across the mouth with a pair of brass knuckles.
"We always have trouble with the fucking cops, so we try to hit the smaller burgs, where there aren't any local fuzz--just the Highway Patrol-and they stick pretty close to the freeways, while we head for the sticks.
"I went back home a couple of times, but they didn't want me around, so now I'm one of the Saints. I make out good. Pete sees that I eat good, have a place to stay and plenty of pot or beer. What with ail different kinds of guys to ball me in a dozen different ways, what more could I ask? Kicksville, man, that's where I live and that's how it's going to be from here on.
"If we get busted, we just hang loose, and when we get out we head for a different part of the state. We try to stick close to the Berdoo and L.A. area though, because it's warm enough there most of the year to sleep outside with just a blanket if you have to.
"I don't think about tomorrow. Who knows if there will be any? I don't. You don't. Pete might make a wrong move at sixty miles an hour, with me on the back seat, and that's that. So, while I can, I'm getting mine-everything I ever wanted. Who the fuck wants a dirty house full of kids and a dragged-out husband every day? Not this sister. I want live ones, like I live with now. It's the name of the game, baby -fuck today, and if you're still around-fuck tomorrow, too-and I mean that both ways."
The outlaw motorcycle clubs represent a more obvious extension of many of the youths' philosophy of today. They live for "kicks" and they obey no one. They respect no one-not even themselves and, surely, not one another. They conceive the vilest of actions-"mind-blowers"-yet, in the few instances where such persons run afoul of the law and are sentenced to prison, where psychiatric care can be given, it is obvious that this credo is a boomerang. Most of the members of such gangs are extremely illiterate, most are atheists and unpatriotic to the point of treason. It would seem that, somewhere along the way, these unfortunate youngsters have stepped on a land mine of their own making-an explosive that shatters their emotions and, in truth, "blows their mind."
They come from nowhere and yet everywhere. Their roaring motors travel countless roads, each one leading to nowhere. What their ultimate end will be is impossible to predict, even by expert sociologists and psychiatrists. They seem impelled by a demonic inner force to defy the very world they live in, while, at the same time, they seem bent on their own destruction via their metallic mounts.
It is only hoped that a look at such individuals may prompt some older, wiser heads to guard against the recruitment of one of their own children into one of the bike gangs, for they are truly no angels, and they are surely doing their best to make a wide road to hell.