The first role is a news report builder and beginning to a series, it's filled with a few childhood dramas ; that build the character of my later narration profile.
It may not be to everyone's liking, but each story needs a start.
Bare with it, the sex scenarios begin after this chapter.


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From my early childhood, I had been fascinated with the rascal elements of society.
Be it rogue Motorbike work party, Latin pack or African American language gangs ; silly I know.
Maybe these fetich or fantasies stem from contumely at the manus of my immediate family or it was always there.

I grew up in a region that had a Biker pack and as long as I can think of, they never did anything wrong.
As five year old I used to sticky bill and sit outside the main office, hoping one day to be ridden around the vicinity on the back of one.

They were always friendly to me and my lots older pal ; in fact my brother would do errands for them.
Like go to the shops, bring back a paper bag of shopping etcetera
Thanks to my blood brother, my dream came true.
As I was small they had me perched on the tankful of the bike not the rear.
It was such a bombilation ; I mentioned it the future day at shoal at display and tell.

It was my day by day rite as a five to six year old, to hang up outside the clubhouse ; and desire to get a ride.
Some days I got my compliments, but other days I just got a wave.

By the time I was eight I was getting rides on the posterior of the bike and hugging my rider as we cruised around the block.
I was on cloud nine, the tyke at school reckoned I was telling lies ; until one day we cruised by a few of them.

At school, no one messed with after that ; even though they did n't anyway.
My Dad did n't mind nor cared, as long as I did n't get hurt or they did n't ride to fast.
He did n't get laid my brother was their Gopher, though.



At nursing home things weren't so good.
Mum and Dad started arguing, it was about finances I think.
My brother moved out when I was nine, and Mum went and found herself a half-time job at a local Clothing factory.
The arguments stopped ; at least I couldn't hear any.

She started work before I was due home from work and finished, when I was in bed.
Dad was getting extra time and would come home until dark.

So with my pal out of the motion picture, they asked my Uncle ( Steve ) to wait after me.
Up until then, I rarely saw my Uncle ; and now I was seeing him after school each day.
He would last out and have Tea with Dad, then leave for his home.


affair seemed to square off down for the next few months.
Steve would keep an eye on microbe bunny girl and animated cartoon with me, before starting to spend a penny our Tea.



Dad was coming home totally bushed and would happen out sometimes on the couch ; after his XII hour shift.



It was sometime during the next year, that affair went pear-shaped.
I was ten close to eleven, when Uncle Steve finally tricked then forced himself on me.
With no one to facilitate me, I was at his mercy.

I have vague memories of this time, but I will never forget the pain and the stemma of the first time he molested me.
Almost instantly I withdrew from multitude and wasn't my normal self.
It didn't stop him, continually molested me day-to-day during the shoal week.

This went on ; for well over a year.


Dad blamed my genial province on the fact I used to worship the bikers, and now I wasn't mixing with them.
Steve was still molesting me, throughout this time.
The school advised my mum to assay counseling, for me.
We couldn't afford it so, nothing was done.


I don't commend too much of those twelvemonth, only in blurs and flashes ; maybe trauma.



thing didn't change until one day when ; Dad came home early from work.
He stood shocked, as he witnessed me knack over the couch arm and Steve fucking me.


Dad grabbed hold of him, and threw him against the wall.
Things smashed.
Steve tried to blame me but Dad wasn't having any of that, and beat him senseless.

They fought all over the house, until the police came.
The home was trashed.
Both Dad and Uncle Steve were arrested.



From then on, Dad stopped working over fourth dimension ; and I had to seek professional person counseling.
I was placed on anti-depressants for about three month ; as I was in a dreary topographic point mentally.


Uncle Steve was not welcomed in our house from then on.


I had lost two years out of my childhood and now I was twelve ; with a few genial issues but on improving.
So now after school, I was told to go to a friend of mine's house ( Julie ) ; and hold back for Dad to plunk me up.

When things in my psyche returned to normality and my smile returned, I was allowed to return to my old number ; of hanging out near the Biker Clubhouse.

They were my new sitter, Dad would honk his car cornet and then I would wave goodbye to them.


Arguments returned to the household and by the clip I was long dozen, my parents had separated and were divorced.


Unluckily, I was made to bide with Mum.

I was always a dad's missy, before my recent trauma ; now Dad was gone.

Once Mum forced Dad out of the picture, she started doing her own thing ; and her inner demons were finally released.
Her demons were called ; Vodka and one-armed bandit machines.



This is where my story begins.

One offspring wasn't the reason my parent divorced, be it my molestation at the hand of my uncle, which resulted in my mother drinking vodka or the constant money problems, which weren't helped by her addiction to slot automobile ; probably both don't help.

I blamed myself at the time.


One weekends I stayed with Dad, but briefly as he moved into state and I contact with him.

The meds I was prescribed to battle my hurt and depression ; made me zombie like and helped me mix up consequence and times.


On a summation side or minus side, I was taken of these meds after three months.
I was baker's dozen and suddenly I was out of my drug controlled like ; but I was always horny.

I couldn't beat the urge to constantly want to feel myself ; be it at home or in class or bed.
The need to rub my clit was overwhelming for the first base few months ; after I came of my meds.

Mum was disgusted in me, and told me to do that in my room.
She would then go on one of her usual drunk rant, until I left her alone in the lounge.
At the time I thought Mum gave me license, to do it in my room.
Deep down, my own demons were surfacing ; I thought there was something damage with me.


In course of study, I didn't see anyone else doing what I couldn't help doing.
I'd be arching my neck backwards with my eyes closed ; as I fingered myself and moaning as I cum.
My fellow class fellow would snicker amongst themselves ; as they knew what I was getting up too.

I would finger so embarrassed so after, as I could see them staring at me and giggling.

"Gee does she need a swain badly ”, I heard someone say, one time.
They giggled even more amongst themselves.



I spent more time in class with my finger's breadth in my wet snatch, biting my lower lip to block up me from screaming out ; then school cogitation ; and it showed in my failing grades.

My step-in would always be wet and soiled, throughout the day.

Sometimes I would cum so hard, my leg would click straight and I would recoil the chair in front end of me.

It seemed because of my desire to get off ; I was the rear end of everyone's jokes.
"Smell that, someone's pussycat juice are ripe ”.
"Something smells fish around her ”.

It seemed the only sentence I wasn't fingering myself was in classes I liked.

After my first few times of having orgasms ; I would smell then taste my finger afterwards.
Smelt a bit like a messy Opuntia tuna sandwich, but the taste sensation was something exceptional and I had yet to fancy out.


I was eventually was busted in class one day doing exactly that, by one of the bitchiest girls.
"Ew, yuck ”, She, howled out.
That girl got me detention and a warning from my year co-coordinator.


My household was dysfunctional and almost unbearable.
One on slope there was me constantly playing with myself without concern and then there was my female parent on the early ; constantly wasting money on slot simple machine and drunk.

I was happiest after school, she was at work and I could disinvest off and do whatever I wanted ; and I did.


Mum's money trouble became an issue and we began to act around a lot ; almost every few month due to her problem.

We ended up settling in a rough neighborhood, which was not a good expanse for a 14 year old ; to walk the streets alone.

Mum didn't care, she only cared for herself ; and some weeknights I never saw her.
When I did we would fight as she was drunk and always argumentative.

This is probably, how my Mum and Dad were like before ; but Dad wasn't here now to soak up her rubbish.

My response would be to storm off and out of the household, for tenacious walks.
I can't hold to move to out.


We had no TV now, as Mum hocked it off ; so it was boring at home.
Mum also rarely bought me new apparel, and sometimes didn't remember to do the washing.
At clip I wore smelly and soiled wearing apparel to school.

Over sentence my itch to finger myself wasn't as dandy but was still there.
After school I would still despoil and walk the house naked and eventually fingerbreadth myself, in the waiting area on our couch.
I would experience a little nap and then frock ; and explore the neighborhood.


I had no friends nearby, so in this vicinity I was a stranger.
So I would ride my push-bike around, checking out a gym, some old factories and then a big fortified fenced building.

It was the old Motorcycle Club, my brother used to run errands for.
It looked slightly unlike to what I remembered, but it was the Same club.
The flag flapping from the roof, gave it away.

It had been a few yr since I bumped into anyone there.


I climbed a tree to see over the fence.
What I saw was, slews of wrecked machine around the cubic yard and a biker doing some work on some motorbikes.


Wicked, I thought to myself, it was bringing back memory of better times.
So my activeness after school now for about a week was to, go home finger myself and the drive my bike to the night club ; and watch from up this tree.

It was always the Saami biker repairing bikes.
He spotted me and yelled out.
"Hey you, get down from there,"he yelled, and walked out and confronted me ; with a big dog.

I almost crapped my pants and fell out of the tree, in fear.

The dog barked and barked at me, as I tentatively climbed down from the tree.
My skirt caught on twig and it made me fall, and it made a pocket-sized rip in it.


I was on my custody and knee joint, and panicking.
Fearful of him, but I was more cautious of ; his out of control dog.

"So good-for-nothing,"I apologized softly.
The dog started snarling at me.

The man smirked as I dropped my gaze.
He ruffled my haircloth and presented me with his hand, and helped me to my feet.

"I'm castanets and this is Max ”, the biker said.
"Jessinta or Jess ”, I said.

"Would you like a nose candy ?"He asked, and he led me into the yard.
I followed and wheeled my biker into the yard.


Max started to calm down once we were both, inside.
I sat on the hood of a bust up car, drinking a Coke.
Bones went back to working on a bike.

"What are you doing ?"I asked.
"Tuning the carburetor,"he replied.

I showed some interest in what he was doing and hung around him like glue, that day.

os was clean cut and in his 1930s.
His jacket had no plot of ground but for one that said, ‘ Prospect ’.
All he seemed to do was fix motorbikes.


When it started to get dark, more bikers turned up.
I smile at them but dropped my gaze.

When it was non-white, osseous tissue advised me to leave my bike here ; and he would hinge upon me home on a bike.

I did as he said.


He passed me a helmet and I spread my wooden leg apart and sat on the spine of his Harley.

It almost felt like dwelling house, being back on the seat of a Harley and hugging a Biker ; as we rode the road.

With my pussy and ass spread across the blanket saddle, I groaned with each excrescence we hit ; but I wasn't complaining.


It was a origin of a new found relationship ; that was empty in my life for so long.
bone was both my blood brother and father ; and friend.

I spent the bulk of my eventide, flirting and pestering with Bones.

Over the next three months, I became stopping point booster with Bones ; and I started learning about bike maintenance.


> > > JESSINTA 1B - Biker young lady