Page 1 of Thorsten Wisely Dicey MC

CHAPTER ONE

– THORSTEN –

The fake moan filling the air doesn’t draw my attention. It does, however spike annoyance inside me. There was a time where my cock got hard from the mere thought of fucking a woman with a few of my brothers. Either taking turns or having her take a cock in every hole she has. Now? Repulsion comes close to what I feel.

“Thor,” the bitch moans. “Come take me.”

Hatred seeps into my veins. I hate my damn name when it’s shortened this way, and even more when it’s coming from a sweetbutt who only wants cock. Any cock for that matter.

I keep leaning against the wall and don’t spare her a glance when I grunt, “Bodie. Shut her up with your cock.”

The fifty-four-year-old man grins with his yellow chewing stones and pushes his beer belly slightly up to unbuckle his belt. Bodie whips out his limp, wrinkly dick and feeds the sweetbutt the tip. He has to squeeze it at the root to fire it up. The sweetbutt slobbers like a dog drinking from its bowl after a walk on a hot day.

Repulsion is definitely making bile rise up in my throat. I barely manage to swallow it down until a new wave hits me when Rainer, my father, steps inside the room. His pants are already at his damn ankles.

He takes his cock in hand and rumbles, “Dillard, reverse positions. I’m taking the cunt’s ass. Kayden, get in here, prospect. You need to suck the bitch’s tits ’cause she squeezes her ass damn fine if she gets those nipples sucked.”

Pushing off the wall, I take a step forward to leave the room.

“Not joining us, VP? I’m sure she’ll suck you off first. Ol’ Bodie here is still firing up his dynamite stick.” My father chuckles and then spits in his hand to wet his cock.

“I’m meeting Lenz in five,” I grunt. “Then I’m heading out for the night.”

The fucker is still stroking his cock, eyes set on pussy when he sneers, “Stop overthinking and start living. This deal I made is going to fill our pockets with cash the way my cock is going to stuff this ass full of cum.”

Nice visual, asshole. Great fatherly advice too. Respect, the little I had for the man, evaporated the day he shot my mother in cold blood right before my eyes, traumatizing and fucking-up my younger brother for life.

“I am gonna start living,” I tell him, and manage to throw out the words in a casual way instead of snarling. “It’s why me and the boys are heading into town for some fresh pussy instead of this unattractive cum-bucket you guys are using.”

It’s a lie. One he eats up ’cause the fucker only thinks about handling the two Cs. Cock and cash. There’s never enough of both Cs if you ask him. Not enough cash and not enough pussy to keep his cock wet, even if he has to use his own spit.

“Bring some back here,” he grunts, and I regret throwing a glance over my shoulder to see him thrusting his hips.

Without another word I walk out of the room and look for Lenz. I find our computer expert behind his laptop, sitting at the bar in the corner of the main room. Weirdly enough his fingers aren’t rattling the keyboard due to the bottles of beer he’s holding in each hand.

“You typing with your nose or what?” I grunt, earning me a grin from the fucker.

Macsen, our secretary, grabs one of the beers Lenz is holding, and rumbles, “He was watching mine ’cause I don’t trust Mercer.”

I snicker and shake my head. “Need I remind you he’s our treasurer?”

Macsen and I go way back. We went to kindergarten together and have been best friends ever since.

The fucker shrugs. “A position he gained ’cause Harry had a heart attack when he took a piss four weeks ago. Besides, one can’t fuck up shit for the club when there’s less than nothing.”

Mercer, who is standing behind the bar, flips him off while aggravation hits me. You might think my father made a fucked-up deal with the cartel to save this club, but sadly the asshole is only in it to fill his own pockets. He doesn’t hold a single ounce of loyalty or respect for the brotherhood my grandfather founded.

Club money earned is split into parts where the president gets the biggest cut, and each member gets a share of the rest along with the club. Tiny drops of water hit the club’s pocket while Rainer’s has been filled to the brim. Expenses are coming from the club money, which means there’s more money bleeding out than going in.

It’s just a tiny piece of what the hell is wrong with the club ever since my father took the gavel. The way he’s pulling this club down the drain these past few years has pushed me to leave this chapter while I still can.

I mean, there might come a day when I’ll step up to become the president…but as long as my father’s still breathing…he won’t ever give it up voluntarily. Like Harry, our former treasurer, seventy years old and still wasn’t willing to pass the function over to a younger member…until he dropped dead while taking a piss.

There are more than a handful of brothers who are fed up with Rainer’s leadership and want a change. It’s why we’ve been having regular meetings to discuss the possibility of founding our own chapter. Our current president is self-destructing and pulling the club, along with its members, to hell with him.

“Where are we meeting tonight?” I question.

Lenz places his empty bottle of beer on the counter. “Atteo is expecting us. Elric and Midas are already there.”

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