It all started when Bandit 86’d his long-bed Ford F-150 with the extended cab. It was getting long in the tooth with over 160,000 miles on the odometer. The lowered monster with rally wheels and stripped body never blinked, only requiring brake pads every 50,000 miles. The truck was a mechanical dream, but he sold it to one of the waitress’s kids, who gave him a hearty down payment then lost his job and never made payments again. The Bandit was way too patient with these brats.
So he went in search of a new four-wheeled adventure. Nyla studied step vans and reported to the big man. Marko looked into Sprinters, since he had a worldly bent, and Mercedes Benz designed the tall vans. Franky roamed the streets of San Pedro looking for a deal and came back with a plan.
“I spoke to a hot rod nut,” Frankie said. “He said if you’re tired of loading bikes in pickups, try pulling a trailer.”
Bandit filed the info, and the search continued. Mandy, who started to date a local biker came up with another option.
“I heard that Buick Road Master station wagons were the shit for pulling trailers.” She danced around the bar to check out Nyla’s bubbly cleavage and give her a hug.
The next thing ya know, Bandit was in search of a Buick Road Master station wagon. They were built from 1992 to 1996, but built hearty like trucks, with tough transmissions and Corvette engines. Bandit researched Auto Trader locally, then expanded his search, since he was involved with a group of custom bike builders called the Hamsters. They were kicked off in the drunken ’70s on the shores of Daytona when a group of builders including Arlen Fatland, Arlen Ness, and Barry Cooney decided to launch a no-rule group of riders who lived by the code of twisted steel and metalflake paints. The group grew and spread from shop to shop all over the country.
Bandit expanded his station wagon search until he discovered an all-black 1994 Buick Road Master hearse in Pennsylvania, on the outskirts of Pittsburg in Yankton. The high-gloss black beauty with a vinyl top only clocked just over 28,000 miles and Bandit worked a deal with the mortuary owner and called a Hamster in Ohio. Soon the bargain was done and the hearse was transported to Chillicothe, Ohio to be lowered, the chrome removed, a trailer hitch added, and the coffin carriage replaced with leather station wagon interior by Mike Cole’s Customs. It wasn’t long before Bandit drove a hearse along the coast, but he still needed a trailer.
That’s when the mood in the Cantina got interesting. It was an ordinary Friday night on the warm fall coast. The Cantina was full of locals and more and more riders were putting to the bar on custom touring bikes. One particular rider rolled up to the bike-only parking and kicked out his chromed kickstand, and leaned his two-toned and pinstriped metallic orange and pearl white FLH on its sidestand. Once off the bike, he removed a soft white cloth from his extended saddlebags and wiped the kickstand clean of any boot debris.
Jacob wasn’t a big man, or tall, about 5’9″ but well-adorned with a Rolex watch, polished ostrich boots, gold rings, a leather-engraved belt, designer denims and Von Dutch limited shades. He had narrow angular features, a short goatee and salt and pepper black hair. The blonde who slid off the dresser was equally adorned to the max with rhinestones, diamonds, and bling from her engraved boots to her glistening belt and giant bolt-on boobs. Together, they shimmered into the dining room and up to the bar. They bristled the union town patrons, who eyed the Hollywood type customers with distain.
“What would you like to drink?” Nyla asked, checking the blonde’s curves from her dainty ankles to her optimum cleavage.
Nyla licked her lips and so did the blonde, a very good sign. The blonde was taller than her boyfriend and her breath quickened as she studied the voluptuous brunette bartender.
“I have something for Bandit,” Jacob said and turned to the blond, who handed him a bottle of Mad Housewife Cabernet Sauvignon.
“He’s not in,” Marko said stepping up. He could tell immediately, from the glitz and the body language that Jacob expected to be treated to back stage VIP hospitality. “But I’ll make sure he receives any message. We have a special guest banquet room, if you would like to follow me.”
Marko guided Jacob, the blonde, and the bottle of wine into a private dining area and Mandy delivered a pitcher of Gold Cadillac margaritas with a plate of nachos and steaming jalapeno poppers . She also set the table with five adobe containers filled with various salsas ranging from mild to mayhem.
“The chow’s on Bandit,” Mandy gleamed, eyeing the blonde.
“Would you make sure Bandit gets the bottle of wine?” Jacob said and handed the dark bottle of Mad Housewife to Marko.
Marko recognized the blonde as the hot model pictured on the bottle of wine. Jacob poured three margaritas, handed one to the blonde, leaned back in his chair and took a deep swig of the other one. He rocked the hearty wooden chair back on its hind legs and kicked his slick boots onto the table. Marko began to step forward and tell the slick sonuvabitch to get his boots off the table, but remembered Bandit’s instructions and backed away. Then he heard someone, another female’s shrill voice in the dining room.
Just then, in popped another set of natural big tits wrapped around a petite olive Italian mistress. She was another knockout, but short and tight. She immediately embraced the blonde and they French kissed deeply, for long moments.
Mandy almost dropped her tray.
Marko took the bottle of wine and extended his hand to Jacob, who reciprocated.
“I’m Jacob and this is Shirley and Toni.”
Shirley, the blonde, continued to hold the little Italian bombshell close, but extended her hand to Marko.
“I’m Marko, Bandit’s manager,” he said.
“I need to talk to the big man,” Jacob said, as Toni pulled one of Shirley’s tits free and started to lick and suck her massive mammary.
“He’s not here right now,” Marko said, “but I’ll try to reach him. We will leave you, but press this buzzer anytime you need anything.”
Toni’s bright dark eyes twinkled as she broke free from the reddening tit and grabbed her margarita.
“Thank you for pouring me a margarita, darling,” she said to Jacob and downed half of it. She was beginning to hump the blonde’s thigh as she pulled the other tit free and buried her face between the two creamy mounds. They acted as if they hadn’t seen each other in a decade, or maybe it was the doing-it-in-public circumstances.
Toni finally came up for air and a swallow of her strong margarita.
“Let’s hit the head,” she said to Shirley and they bounced out of the private banquet room, across the tiled dining room and into the woman’s restroom.
Toni came from the old country as a teenager in search of adventure, and Shirley was a SoCal beach bunny who was hitting her last swab at landing a secure home. She just turned 38 and still looked damn good, but on the brink of aging. The constant Hollywood party atmosphere didn’t help. Toni was still in her late 20s and as bubbly as a fresh uncorked bottle of champagne.
Jacob was in his mid 50s and recently divorced. When the girls departed, he hit the buzzer and Marko returned.
“Can I help you?” Marko asked.
“Here’s the deal,” Jacob said in almost a whisper. “I heard Bandit was looking for a trailer.”
“That’s correct,” Marko said.
“I have one,” Jacob said, “It’s a custom built job with two interchangeable rails, a ramp, an adjustable axle and custom fenders.”
Marko nodded.
“It’s at my ex’s place,” Jacob went on, “and I need to get it out of there. Can Bandit store it? It comes with a cover, and it’s a stand-up unit.”
“Sure,” Marko said. “Bring it over. We’ll take care of it.”
“I can’t do that,” Jacob said. “And Toni can’t know about this move. She’s extremely temperamental and jealous.”
“I’m sure we can get someone to pick it up,” Marko said.
“It has polished diamond plate on the face, mag wheels and new tires,” Jacob continued, “but we need to grab it tomorrow, when my ex is out of town.”
Marko backed up. He knew Bandit didn’t like deals with barbs, hooks, and extra luggage, but he also knew Bandit had a soft spot for Hamsters.
“Let me check,” he said and backed out of the adobe banquet room.
The two bombshells hit the head like a tornado, tearing at each other’s clothes and into Toni’s purse for her vial of cocaine. Toni snatched the stubby glass container and the silver spoon. She snorted two nostrils full and screeched like a 16-year-old who was just handed keys to a new Mustang.
She packed the spoon with a hearty load and held it up to Shirley’s pert nose.
“I don’t think so,” Shirley said.
“Oh, come on,” Toni spat, her brain beginning to whirl with sensual delights. “I can’t wait to lick you from head to toe.”
“Okay, maybe just one,” Shirley said and packed her nose.
This action had been riding the wave of bright lights and night scenes for six months. At first, it was a sexual paradise. Shirley stumbled into Toni and Jacob at a Beverly Hills antique show. Jacob was harmless and Toni was an Italian delight. For the first time in her life, she hooked up with a woman, and it was a blast, but then she sorta liked Jacob, but knew she couldn’t go there with Toni in the picture.
It all boiled into a complicated ménage a trois. Shirley needed something, a man, a woman, and a place in life. She was reaching the point of desperation. She worked in a nail salon, pampering some of the richest women in the world. It was a decent living if she planned to live in a single apartment for the rest of her life. She needed to break out and give herself a chance to hook up with something meaningful.
The two danced back to the banquet room, high as two kites on nitrous. When they bounced into the room, little Jacob had dimmed the lights and Mandy lit candles around the room. The two girls closed the door behind them and stripped. They were a sexual banquet laid before Jacob on the big wooden table.
***
The next morning Jacob awoke in his massive Hollywood king-sized bed with his two women intertwined. His cell phone vibrated on his she-she, black lacquered bedside counter. He snatched it up. It was supposed to be on a protective coaster.
“Hello,” he whispered into the phone.
“I spoke to Bandit,” Marko said. “We have someone lined up to pick up the trailer. What ball size do we need?”
“I’ll call you back in a half hour,” Jacob said.
Shirley crawled out of the bed nude and disappeared into the shower. Toni continued to sleep as Jacob crept out of bed and across the apartment to make a pot of coffee and polish the kitchen counters. He was a neat freak. He called Marko back.
“That’s cool. I have a 2-inch receiver with a 2-inch ball attached,” Jacob said, and started to rattle directions.
“No need,” Marko said. “Gimme the address and I’ll Mapquest it.”
“It’s at 218 Doheny,” Jacob said. “What time will you be there and I’ll meet you.”
“Eleven o’clock,” Marko said.
“That’s perfect,” Jacob said and hung up.
Over coffee and croissants, Jacob planned his day aloud with Toni.
“I have some business this morning,” Jacob said. “How about we meet at Bandit’s Cantina this evening for the Pre-Love Ride Party?”
Shirley looked distant, but nodded. “I have some errands, too,” she said.
“Wait?” Toni snapped, still edgy from the drugs and the morning coffee didn’t help. “What’s going on?”
Shirley was up and out of sight.
“I don’t know what’s up with her,” Toni said
“What do you mean?” Jacob said.
“I got a bad vibe from her last night,” Toni said and sipped her coffee, staring at the shiny melamine surface of Jacob’s ’50s dining room table. “I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her. She’s been sorta distant.”
“We will find out tonight at the Cantina,” Jacob said, but his mind was on the trailer operation. He needed to move it while the pushy ex was out of town on business, but if Toni found out he had any contact with his ex, there would be hell to pay. Jacob stirred his coffee like a prisoner waiting while the jury deliberated his fate.
