What follows is my answer to the Trifecta challenge: to submit a piece of writing, any style, any subject, that is between 333 and 3,333 words. This comes in at just over 1800 words. This is probably R rated – likely not something you would let your kiddos read. With that warning, I give you Sweet Cheeks.

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Laci paid for the taxi, then walked into the noisy bar. Her eyes swept the room and she felt annoyed with how quickly they began to smart and tear in the hazy smokiness.

THWACK! A group of 3 men circled a tall barroom table. They burst into loud laughter while one massaged his shoulder which had a beefy hand clasped upon it. Laci nodded briefly and continued into the room.

A typical small town bar, this place had all the mixed ambience of an ashtray and an outhouse. The walls were painted in a flat, matte black – covered with the tattered remnants of posters nearly as old as her parents.

There were several rocking, off-kilter tables around the room, each set up with mismatched chairs. There were more of the tall, round barroom tables with brass foot rests also. Only the tallest of men or the most limber of young women would attempt to climb up onto the barstools without the aid of those foot rests.

Since she could only claim 5 foot 2 in heeled boots, Laci passed up the taller tables and made her way over to a chair that was in questionable state of repair. Gray duck tape had been liberally applied, covering the worst of the tears, but even it was beginning to peel up on the edges. All the chairs had seen better days, and she resigned herself to the fact that some of the adhesive would go home with her in patchy stripes across her backside.

Settling into her seat, she took a sip of the club soda with a twist the blowsy waitress set in front of her with a wink and tip of burning cigarette.

“Two bucks, Sweet Cheeks. Anything else you need, ol Madge’ll take care of ya.”

Laci fanned away the smoke streaming from the other woman’s nostrils, handed her a ten and returned the wink. “Keep ‘em coming,” she said, and continued checking out the room with feigned disinterest.

There was a mixed crowd at the bar. A long-legged beauty of indiscernible age was draped across one end, rhinestones glinting off her peep-toed “do me like a dog” black pumps. Spaghetti straps of her form-fitting red dress had slipped down over her shoulders. Her long, bleached blonde hair needed a good session with the barber shears. Laci watched as Blondie fumbled with her Zippo until the bartender took pity and lit her cigarette.

Madge refilled her drink as Laci eyed the other end of the bar where a couple was sharing a not so private moment with the entire bar. Laci shifted in her seat.

“There’s nothing like a bawdy display of tongue and roaming hands to set one up for the weekend, is there, Sweetness?”

“Yeah, Madge. Makes me tingle just watching ‘em.” Madge’s throaty laugh carried across the bar as she left Laci’s table again.

There was an overwhelming presence of leather and chains in the room. It didn’t come as a shock – she had seen the sleek machinery in the parking lot when she came in. Most were the Milwaukee band of bike, and many were as old, if not older, than her own rattletrap truck. The bikes were in much better condition than that truck.

Her view was blocked by a shadow. Laci looked up over her right shoulder to see what had to be the biggest and greasiest individual she had seen in a month of Sundays.

“Mind if I set a spell, girlie?” he asked even as he threw his beefy thigh over the cane-back chair next to her. “Madge!” he bellowed. “I’ll take my Bud over here. And get Sweet Cheeks here another of whatever she’s drinking.”

Laci nodded to the waitress, resigning herself to a bit of mauling in order to get what she had come to find. He grinned and waved to the group he had deserted for her company.

She checked him over – black t-shirt, leather vest, tats, shaved head and a fu-manchu mustache. There looked to be a pound of gold in his mouth, glinting from in between smoke stained and crooked teeth. Good Lord! she thought to herself. Picture perfect grunge biker, anyone?

He grunted, shifted closer and gave her his best line: “Say, what’s a little bitty slip of a thing like you doing in a place like this? If you’re looking for a ride, honey, you’ve come to the right place and I’m your man. You can call me Big Boy.”

Laci found it hard not to smile. She knew he didn’t just mean a ride on a Hog. Oh, you bet, sugar – like I’m going THERE with you, she thought to herself even as she turned on all the southern charm she could muster. Mama would be so proud.

“Really, Big Boy? Is one of those machines out front yours?” Laci batted blue eyes at him, as he turned to grin at the two men still at his table. He gave her a wink and circled his tongue over his lips in what he apparently thought was a turn-on manner.

She forced herself not to recoil when one massive forearm was thrust over the back of her chair as the biker pulled her into a one-sided embrace.

“Can I see your ride, Big Boy?” She had to shout over the juke box that Blondie had fed quarters. He thrust out his chest with pride. The chair hit the floor with a crash as Big Boy quickly stood, took her tiny hand into his huge paw and pulled Laci to her feet. She grabbed her backpack as he tugged her toward the door.

“Come on sugar, I’ll show ya what a REAL bike ride is.” He glanced again at his buddies and grinned. Bottles around the room were raised in salute and Laci saw several barely hidden obscene gestures. At the door biker and bouncer exchanged looks and she pretended not to see the quick package pass between them as they shared a fist bump.

The silence of the parking lot was deafening after the assault of the fevered rock and roll from inside the bar. Laci’s skull pulsed with a dull thud, Thud, THUD! The building’s walls seemed to bulge with each beat of the bass.

Big Boy swept Laci up with little effort and turned her toward the shiniest Hog in the lot. She didn’t need to pretend to be impressed. She’d felt an almost sexual tug toward the chrome and gleaming paint when she’d entered the bar.

I’ve hit the jackpot with this guy – this is a cherry machine! she thought to herself. Time for some more southern charm. Laci turned and gushed:

“Wow! She’s a beauty! Can I sit on her, please?”

“Why sure, Sugar. I’ll even take you for a ride. I know a place down a ways where we can have ourselves a quiet time.”

With that the biker picked Laci up and plopped her onto the “bitch seat” of his bike. Her bare arms erupted into goose bumps and her nipples hardened against the silky fabric of her summer dress. Big Boy settled himself onto the seat in front of her.

Reaching around behind, he grabbed her legs and pulled her forward. The passenger pegs were so high her knees were bent at a sharp angle. Laci’s skirt left little to the imagination of any interested onlookers.

“Are ya ready, Sweet Cheeks?” he asked. Thrusting one hand back and down the front of her dress, he kneaded her nipples and growled, “Oh, you’re ready, aren’t ya, sugar?”

He grabbed both of Laci’s hands, used them to adjust his manhood, then placed them at his sides. With a grin over his shoulder, he kicked the Hog into life.

Laci gripped with both hands and knees when the machine squealed out of the driveway, the big machine trying to kick up the front tire. This bike was a screamer.

Brush and trees – people and houses – street lights and cars – all rushed by in a blur. Laci didn’t even try to conceal a grin at the vibration of the huge machine thrumming under her. Careful, girl – remember why you’re here.

The bike slowed and they turned into a grassy lot next to the riverbank. There was nobody there, but they could see the light of a campfire almost directly across the river. A noisy group was enjoying a summer party.

Big Boy brought the Hog to a stop and Laci tilted to the left as he set the kickstand. She started to get off the bike, but the biker’s big hands grabbed her by the waist. Suddenly she found herself straddling the gas tank facing backwards and staring into the man’s gold-capped mouth. She was pulled toward him as ten grimy fingers cupped her breasts and teased her wind-hardened nipples.

Come on girl, time to get out of this.

Laci leaned forward – closer to his ear – and whispered, “I need to go to the little girls’ bush, Big Boy. I want to be fresh for you.”

He growled his impatience, but lifted her off the tank. Then he dismounted and pointed her away from the riverbank. He turned his back and settled onto a boulder as she rustled through the brush and made water loud enough for him to hear.

“Come on, Sweet Cheeks,” he called out. “I’ve got some good shit for us.”

Laci’s nose wrinkled as the cloying and familiar smell made its way into the brush to tickle her nose hairs.

Picking up a baseball sized rock, she stood up, tugging at bikini panties. “On my way, Big Boy. I’m coming.”

It wasn’t the weed that she wanted. Bending over Big Boy’s back she caressed his cheek. Just as he reached back for her, and began to turn toward her, Laci brought the rock down onto his temple.

“What do you know,” she whispered, “It’s true. The bigger they are, the harder they DO fall!” Checking to make sure he was still breathing and finding that he was alive, Laci walked back to the bike. The noise across the river hadn’t changed. Nobody had noticed the commotion.

“I HATE being called sweet cheeks,” she grumbled as she dug through her pack. “And I don’t much care for sugar or girlie, either” she continued, grabbing a pair of Levis and a leather jacket and gloves.

“You biker dudes are all alike – take the bitty broad for a ride – then ride her like the stallion you think you are – you never think that I might want the FRONT seat! You don’t even think I CAN! I’ll have you know I’m the best damned repo agent in this county.”

Her mental tone took a sarcastic twist. “The guys at the garage are gonna love that I got in one night what they’ve been trying to get for months.”

Then, with a toss of her hair Laci put on her riding goggles, kicked the starter, and roared off into the night.