The first part is a fib builder and beginning to a serial publication, it's filled with a few puerility dramas ; that build the reference of my posterior story 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 rogue elements of society.
Be it rogue motorbike gangs, Latin pack or African American mob ; silly I know.
Maybe these fetishes or phantasy stem from maltreatment at the workforce of my straightaway family or it was always there.

I grew up in a locality 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 beak and sit outside the home office, hoping one day to be ridden around the neighborhood on the backbone of one.

They were always favorable to me and my a lot former brother ; in fact my brother would do errands for them.
Like go to the shops, bring back a newspaper publisher bag of shopping and so forth
Thanks to my brother, my dream came true.
As I was small they had me perched on the army tank of the bicycle not the rear.
It was such a buzz ; I mentioned it the next day at schooling at appearance and tell.

It was my daily ritual as a five to six year old, to hang outside the clubhouse ; and hope to get a ride.
Some years I got my bid, but early Clarence Day I just got a wave.

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

At shoal, 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 know my brother was their ground squirrel, though.



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

She started work before I was due home from study and finished, when I was in bed.
Dad was getting overtime and would derive home until dark.

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


thing seemed to go down down for the succeeding few months.
Steve would watch Bugs bunny rabbit and cartoons with me, before starting to make our Tea.



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



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

I have vague memories of this metre, but I will never leave the pain and the pedigree of the first time he molested me.
Almost instantly I withdrew from hoi polloi and wasn't my normal self.
It didn't stop him, continually molested me daily during the school week.

This went on ; for well over a year.


Dad blamed my genial state on the fact I used to revere the bikers, and now I wasn't mixing with them.
Steve was still molesting me, throughout this time.
The schooling advised my mum to seek counsel, for me.
We couldn't afford it so, nil was done.


I don't remember too practically of those old age, only in fuzz and news bulletin ; maybe trauma.



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


Dad grabbed cargo area 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 force came.
The house was trashed.
Both Dad and Uncle Steve were arrested.



From then on, Dad stopped working over time ; and I had to seek pro counseling.
I was placed on anti-depressants for about three months ; as I was in a dark place mentally.


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


I had lost two years out of my puerility and now I was twelve ; with a few genial issues but on improving.
So now after shoal, I was told to go to a protagonist of mine's house ( Julie ) ; and wait for Dad to pick me up.

When matter in my head returned to normality and my smile returned, I was allowed to give back to my old function ; of hanging out near the Biker Clubhouse.

They were my new babysitters, Dad would honk his car horn and then I would undulate good-by to them.


line of reasoning returned to the home and by the time I was thirteen, my parents had separated and were divorced.


Unluckily, I was made to stay with Mum.

I was always a pa's little girl, before my recent trauma ; now Dad was gone.

Once Mum forced Dad out of the moving picture, she started doing her own thing ; and her intimate demon were finally released.
Her demons were called ; Vodka and time slot machines.



This is where my story begins.

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

I blamed myself at the time.


One weekends I stayed with Dad, but briefly as he moved into state of matter 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 result and times.


On a summation side or damaging side, I was taken of these meds after three months.
I was thirteen and suddenly I was out of my drug controlled like ; but I was always horny.

I couldn't beat the itch to constantly want to finger myself ; be it at home or in class or bed.
The penury to rub my clit was overwhelming for the first 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 rants, until I left her alone in the lounge.
At the meter I thought Mum gave me permission, to do it in my room.
deep down, my own demons were surfacing ; I thought there was something incorrectly with me.


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

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

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



I spent Sir Thomas More metre in social class with my fingers in my wet snatch, biting my lower lip to stop me from screaming out ; then schoolhouse studies ; and it showed in my failing grades.

My panty would always be wet and soiled, throughout the day.

Sometimes I would cum so hard, my legs would thumb straight and I would kick the chair in social movement of me.

It seemed because of my desire to get off ; I was the stub of everyone's jokes.
"Smell that, someone's pussy juices are mature ”.
"Something smells Fish around her ”.

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

After my starting time few fourth dimension of having orgasms ; I would smell out then taste my fingerbreadth afterwards.
Smelt a bit like a messy Anguilla sucklandii sandwich, but the taste was something extra and I had yet to figure out.


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


My house was dysfunctional and almost unbearable.
One on side there was me constantly playing with myself without care and then there was my Mother on the other ; constantly wasting money on slot political machine and drunk.

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


Mum's money job became an issue and we began to move around a lot ; almost every few months due to her problem.

We ended up settling in a unsmooth neighborhood, which was not a beneficial area for a fourteen 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 reply would be to storm off and out of the house, for long walks.
I can't wait 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 clothes, and sometimes didn't remember to do the washing.
At time I wore smelly and soiled clothes to school.

Over clip my urge to feel myself wasn't as neat but was still there.
After school I would still strip and walk the menage naked and eventually finger myself, in the lounge on our couch.
I would possess a small nap and then attire ; and search the neighborhood.


I had no booster nearby, so in this neighborhood I was a stranger.
So I would depend on 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 different to what I remembered, but it was the like club.
The flag flapping from the roof, gave it away.

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


I climbed a tree to see over the fence.
What I saw was, gobs of bust up motorcar around the yard and a biker doing some workplace on some motorbikes.


Wicked, I thought to myself, it was bringing back memory board of good times.
So my activities after school now for about a week was to, go domicile finger myself and the ride my bike to the club ; and watch from up this tree.

It was always the like 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 small rip in it.


I was on my hands and knees, and panicking.
Fearful of him, but I was more cautious of ; his out of control dog.

"So sorry,"I apologized softly.
The dog started snarling at me.

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

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

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


Max started to cool it down once we were both, inside.
I sat on the hood of a bust up car, drinking a Coke.
pearl went back to working on a motorcycle.

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

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

castanets was neat cut and in his XXX.
His jacket had no bandage but for one that said, ‘ Prospect ’.
All he seemed to do was fix motorbikes.


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

When it was black, Bones advised me to leave my bike here ; and he would ride me home on a bike.

I did as he said.


He passed me a helmet and I spread my legs apart and sat on the rear of his Harley.

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

With my kitty-cat and ass spread across the wide-cut saddle, I groaned with each blow we hit ; but I wasn't complaining.


It was a beginning of a new found kinship ; that was empty in my lifetime for so long.
Bones was both my brother and founding father ; and friend.

I spent the majority of my evenings, flirting and pestering with Bones.

Over the side by side three month, I became close booster with finger cymbals ; and I started learning about bike maintenance.


> > > JESSINTA 1B - Biker Girl