I was scared to death, I held onto his body for dear life. What the hell was I thinking? Sure I sat on a motorcycle before, but I never rode bitch on the highway. The most I ever rode was a few short city blocks on a friend's bike.
I grabbed his waist at tight as I could, and hung on for dear life. I could barely see in front of us. The wind blew his long jet black hair all over my ghost white face. He tried to turn back and say something to me but I couldn't hear him over the loud engine. At least I could hear his smooth 70's rock blaring over his speakers.
We slowed down and headed off the highway. He turned into a small dirt road and we drove about a mile, with just the motorcycle light illuminated the tiny dirt road. The sun was just about to set as we reached a cabin at the edge of a tiny isolated lake. If he knew I was a cop he would have killed me hours ago.
He wasn't just any small time dealer. He ran things up and down the county. If someone disappeared he knew where to find them. If he was the reason they disappeared, they were probably floating in a river a few hundred miles away.
Well, you're probably wondering why I'm riding bitch with meanest, toughest and most dangerous criminal in the county.
It started a few months ago. Our unit set up a small task force to follow his movements. There was something different about him. Most of the other criminals around him had tons of women all the time. 'Moto Mike' was never seen with a woman, girlfriend or anything like it. After months of sleuthing I finally figured out why.
It took me night after night of tailing him. He most have noticed the black 98 Crown Vic' always parked nearby. I mean he wasn't stupid. He was an experienced escapee. He escaped jail many times, and we wanted to catch him before more bodies went missing.
I parked nearby and watched him go in. He nodded up and down at some massive black dude. His huge arms were folded against his body outside the club. His left earpiece clearly indicating he was a bouncer.
I took a good luck at the clientele going in. If this was a nightclub, how come I hadn't seen any women? We didn't have too many clubs in or around our county, so it all seemed a bit odd. I waited in my car and slowly sipped my coffee. It didn't take a super sleuth to discover what 'Moto Mike' was really about. I needed to catch him, but how? I slowly put down my coffee, if my wife found out what I was up to she'd kill me. I'll leave the next three hours to your imagination, but let's just say he definitely wasn't into women.
He parked his Motorcycle in the garage attached to his cabin. He cut the motor and leaned back against the handle bars. He slowly removed his helmet. His long black hair hung over the handle bars as he leaned backwards. I wonder if he knew how my partner was killed. It was the night of the clubhouse raid. It was the night he got that big scar on his left cheek. 'Moto Mike' lit a cigarette and took a long drag. I popped off my helmet and handed it to him.
He slowly undid his belt buckle and pulled his jean zipper down. He was so relaxed, and I was trying not to shake. I didn't have my badge or gun on me. My phone was hidden deep in my car and was on silent. I could easily disappear at his cabin and never be seen again. Maybe I'd end up floating in a river or something. But I was way more distracted by what Magic Mike had between his legs.
It was insanely big. Not just long. I was as wide as small tree branch. It was the biggest circumcised cock I'd ever seen. He opened up his pants all the way and pushed them down. His cock popped up like a small snake looking for prey. He was clean shaven everywhere and his balls were massive.
He finally broke the awkward silence.
