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                                 Down 'n Dirty
                                    by FURR


     I like bikers.  Not the Yuppie in a suit scooting to work on a little
ricegrinder, but the kind of Bikers that scare and revolt straightlaced
citizens; dirty, leather-clad, Harley-riding "Outlaw" Bikers.  Of course, the
most "outlaw" thing most of them have done is to trade or sell a little grass
to their bros, something half the Yuppies on ricegrinders are guilty of as
well.  But, the Bikers have a different lifestyle that sends the "upstanding
citizens" into a tailspin.

     Of course, there's more than just admiration for individuality at work
here.  I'm unabashedly gay, and bikers just flat-out turn me on.  The sight of
a long-haired, long-bearded MAN in grease-stained 501's and worn leathers
straddling a big Hawg is enough to give me a hardon in a flash.  Some of my gay
friends buy gay skin rags to jerk off over; I buy the outlaw biker rags and
ignore the women.

     Part of the reason I'm into this breed of biker, I suppose, is that I love
grungy, greasy, sweaty men.  Some time ago, I practically stole a hot nearly-
new Low Rider with a flawless two-tone dark red paintjob from some silly fool
who was going to get a ricegrinder that wouldn't "vibrate" so much.  I've spent
the last couple years slowly customizing the bike, wearing in my leathers, and
letting one particular pair of jeans go unwashed....

     A couple months ago, I found the bar.  A run down little tavern on the
"bad" side of town, there was nothing in front of it but scoots -- most of them
Hawgs with a few Brit machines mixed in.  I was taking a roundabout putt to the
parts shop to pick up my new custom saddlebags.  As the silver-bearded bro
behind the counter rang up my purchase, I asked him if he knew of the place.

     "Sure do.  It's a nice little biker bar -- windows out front so you can
keep an eye on your scoot, though you hardly need to - any of the bros there
would yell if anyone started fuckin' with anyone's ride.  Gets good and rowdy,
but brawls are rare; just a real nice place to party.  But if you're looking
for scooter babes, forget it.  It's got a rep as the place to go when a brother
just wants to be with bros.  Here y'go... those bags'l look real fine on your
bike.  Y'all come back -- you're one of our best customers!"

     I grinned.  "Soon as I decide what I want to do next for the scoot that I
can afford, I'll be back!  Catch ya later!"

     I decided to stop in the bar on the way home and check the place out.  I
damn near popped a hardon just walking into the place.  The air was thick with
smells, the two most potent being man-sweat and well-worn leather.  Motor oil,
beer, and cigar smoke added spice to the mix.  Trying to look casual, I
surveyed the room.  The bar was small, but set up to be snug, not cramped.
Being this was a Saturday afternoon, the place was pretty busy.  I can tell you
that all the bikers there were the genuine article, and I would have gladly
taken most of them home to play with.

     I stepped up to the bar, and I got a better look at the bartender.  My
first impression was "Fuckin' huge!"  That didn't change.  The man had to be at
least 6'8 if he was an inch, and broad.  A beard that came down to about where
his nipples should be, and a long braid down his back, both of brown hair shot
with silver.  A half-smoked fat cigar between his teeth.  My second thought was
"No wonder this place has no problem with brawls....!"

     His threatening demeanor was softened when he pulled the stogie out of his
mouth, grinned like a bear who's just found a honey-hive with all the bees
gone, and rumbled "Hey, bro!  Never seen you in here before.  What can I get
ya?"  Disarming as the greeting was, I didn't miss the upper body muscles
rippling under his black t-shirt as he leaned forward so he could hear me over
the jukebox.

     "A draft, and a light if you've got one" I said, as I pulled one of my own
long cigars from my inner pocket.  The damn things are a bitch to carry without
breaking, but well worth the hassle.

     The bartender grinned even wider (if possible).  "Sure thing!  Nice to see
another bro who smokes like a man."  He passed me my beer, and pulled out a
lighter as I paid for the brew.  "Y'know, there's a whole bunch of bros who
like stogies who are in here every so often; when they get goin' and I get mine
fired up, I gotta turn off the damn smoke alarm."  The grin stayed after he put
the cigar back in his mouth and said "'Joy yer brew!" around it.

     I gradually started dropping in more often; the company was good, and it
was certainly nice to be with men who shared my interest in Harleys.  Most of
the time, I just sat at a table in the back, sipping my beer, smoking my
cigars, and enjoying the hardon that watching the other bikers gave me --
discreetly hidden under the tabletop.  I eventually noticed the group that the
bartender Teddy (as in Bear, as if anyone looking at the man couldn't guess,
and hence the groaner name of the place: The Teddy B'ar) had mentioned.  By
keeping my ears open, I eventually found out they all had rented a house
together to save on living expenses, and therefore be able to spend more on
their scoots and other pleasures.  Occasionally, they'd come to the bar and
damn near empty the joint with an announcement they were having a party.

     Finally, on a mellow evening, one of them came over to me and sat down at
my table.  He was one of my favorites to watch, what with his dark coppery
auburn hair and beard, both long but obviously well tended.  I began to worry
that perhaps my watching had become too obvious.

     "Hey, man.  The brothers and I were just wondering why you never show up
at any of our parties?"

     So that was it.  "Just didn't feel like the invitation included me; you
obviously knew everyone else in the place, and I don't force myself on people."

     He chuckled.  "That's for sure.  Well, all the other people you've been
talkin' to say you're good people, so you come to the next party, OK?"

     While the prospect of likely having to hang out with a bunch of biker
women as well as the men didn't thrill me, I didn't want to be rude.  "Sure
will, and thanks for the invitation."

     "Great!  See ya then, bro!"  As he stood up to shake my hand, I could
swear that first one of his booted feet slid over to nudge one of mine; and I
KNEW that when he stood up, he had a hardon - a nice one - behind his greasy
grey-black jeans that wasn't there when he sat down.  I couldn't help the
surprised look on my face; he caught it, grinned at me a little, and winked.

     It was a week or two before that group announced another party, and in
that time I still hadn't been able to figure out what was going on.  To say
that I was curious would be a strong contender for "Understatement Of The
Year." After my little encounter with the copper-bearded biker (whose name
turned out to be -- predictably -- Rusty), I worked on being a little more
outgoing, and wound up making the acquaintance of most of the group in the
house, but I still had no idea what was going on.

     So, one night when I was in the bar celebrating the fact that everyone
where I worked had been given a month off -- with pay -- while the place was
remodeled and refurbished, in came Rusty and a couple of his buddies to
announce another one of their parties.

     "Damnit, Rusty, you and your crew are gonna ruin me!" Teddy growled,
though he was smiling when he said it.

     "Give it a rest, Teddy.  I haven't known you to miss one of these parties
yet, after you close up here!"

     "Got me there, Rusty.  See you about 2:30, then!"

     The whole lot of us hopped on our bikes and followed Rusty and his buddies
back to their place.  It turned out to be a slightly run-down, but very large
house on the edge of town, with no nearby neighbors -- a perfect biker party
pad, with no neighbors to piss off.  Everyone else hustled inside, but Rusty's
sidestand had gotten jammed.  I pried it loose while he held the bike up, and
we walked up to the house.

     It was one of those older-style buildings with an actual enclosed porch in
front of the main door, and once we were on the porch, Rusty grabbed me behind
the neck and laid a wet tongue kiss on me that left me gasping for breath with
a full hard-on in my pants.

     "You just passed the final exam!" he said, grinning at me.  I picked the
little sucker up, as he was about six inches shorter than me, and shoved my
tongue back down his throat.  When I finished pumping my spit down his throat,
HE was the one gasping for breath.

     "Rusty, will you PLEASE tell me what the flyin' fuck is goin' on here??"
I could see all sorts of bikers doing all manner of sleazy things to each other
through a crack in the curtains.  "Half those bros in there have ol'ladies, and
most of 'em talk about nailin' pussy at the bar.  What gives?!?!?!"

     "Ya gotta understand; lots of ol'ladies won't give their men head, or get
into some of the raunchy or rough stuff their men like.  There's a lot of truth
to the saying that bikers will fuck anything with a hole.  There are some all-
gay bros, some that actively swing both ways, and some that just come here for
what they can't get at home.  But, because lots of these guys don't want their
women to find out, or whatever, no one talks about it outside the parties.  The
main rules are no fights, if someone comes on to you for something you aren't
into, turn 'em down politely, and if someone is too persistent, tell one of the
guys who lives here and we'll take care of it."

     "So the whole thing is kind of a private club that uses Teddy's as its
recruiting office?"

     He grinned.  "The whole thing was Teddy's idea, but it didn't really take
off until we got this house to use to throw the parties in.  Teddy said he
figured you were into men, so I administered the test."

     "So what are we waiting for?  Let's go!"

     Rusty led me into the house and showed me the layout.  The upstairs was
the bedrooms of all the men living there; you could use them for private
playing if the occupant of the room was part of the group or gave his
permission.  The kitchen was set up as the bar, the back porch as the place for
those into recreational chemicals to do their indulging, and most of the rest
of the ground floor was fuck space.  The basement was set up for some of the
kinkier (and messier) scenes.

     Filling all this were the men.  Big as the house was, there were enough
that the place felt crowded, and especially so when a particularly hot scene
would draw a lot of spectators into a particular area.  If you want to get an
idea what they looked like, flip through a copy of _In The Wind_, _Runnin'
Free_ or any of the other "outlaw" biker photo rags.  Big beards.  Wild
moustaches.  Long hair.  Leather.  Greasy, dirty Levis.  Sweat.

     I realized that I was unconsciously rubbing my hardon through my jeans, so
I popped my fly and pulled out my cock and balls.  No sooner had I started to
slip my long 'skin back and forth over my cockhead than Rusty's tongue was in
between my 'skin and cockhead.  Since on my job, no one gives a flyin' fuck
what you smell like -- and the previously mentioned fact that I love sweat -- I
was in the habit of bathing maybe twice a week.  Given the timing, Rusty had
plenty of dickcheese to lick out for me -- and he did it damn well.

     I remembered what he'd said about some of the bros being into rough sex,
so I shoved my cock down his throat without warning.  He just kind of closed
his eyes and hummed blissfully, so I gave him a couple good deep strokes before
pulling out.

     "I don't wanna get off before I see what all's going on here.  Maybe a
little later?"

     Rusty grinned.  "Later, or the next party... I want your dick, and I'm
willing to wait for it.  Enjoy yourself, and I'll catch ya later."

     I got myself a can of beer and started prowling the place, checkin' out
the action.  The beer I'd had at the bar had opened the floodgates, and I
needed to piss.  I started lookin' around for the can; what I found was a room
full of piss-soaked hunks.  I had just finished relieving myself into a
particularly well-built stud with a hot honey blonde beard when I felt a
familiar warmth spreading across the back of my pants and moving down my legs.
I looked back over my shoulder as my urinal started sucking my cock to see a
compact man, nicely built with a fairly short, midnight black beard against
pale skin pissing all over the back of my pants.  I recognized him as one of
the regulars at Teddy's, name of Mick.

     "I've waited a LONG time to do that, bro!"

     I pulled out of Honey-Beard's mouth.  "Shit, if I'd have known, you
wouldn't have had to wait!"  I dropped to my knees and started sucking his
cock.  He quickly grabbed my head in his hands and held it still.

     "Whoa, boy.  The tank's not anywhere near empty yet!"  He pulled back a
bit, and started pissing in my mouth.  After gulping down a couple mouthfuls of
his sweet, clear beer piss, I pulled back myself, and guided his piss stream
all over me.  Honey-Beard stood up behind me and started pouring it on as well,
so I took Mick's cock back in my mouth and drank him dry.

     Since by this point, only one of the three of us was still dry, Honey-
Beard (whose name turned out to be Reb) and I dragged Mick down into the pools
of fresh piss all over the floor, and wrestled him around enough to thoroughly
drench him.

     We finally crawled out of the piss parlor and collapsed together on a
funky old mattress that had clearly seen its share of piss-drenched bikers.  We
lay there a while, licking piss and sweat out of each other's beards and
getting to know each other.  In the meantime, the attention we were paying each
other got our dicks to rising, and before I knew it, Reb was sitting on my dick
and Mick was settling his furry ass down on my face.

     Now, I love fuckin' butt, especially one as tight and hairy as Reb's.  But
eating ass -- that's my specialty.  I pulled those black-furred buns apart and
planted my tongue right on Mick's hole; I was in no mood to be subtle.  My long
tongue slipped right up his hole, until my beard was grinding his butt while I
ate.  Mick and Reb were deep in a long, hot kiss of their own while they jerked
each other off and rode my body.

     Mick squirmed his butt all over my face, trying to get my tongue in
deeper; Reb amazed me with what he could do in what is, after all, a rather
difficult position for the dude gettin' plowed, 'specially since he has to do
all the work.  I could feel the rhythm of their hands as they beat off, and
hear the slurping sounds they made as they kissed; counterpointing those were
the viscous, liquid sounds of Reb shoving his tight, slick asshole down my cock
to my balls, and of course, MY ardent slurping around in Mick's shithole.

     Finally, Mick could take no more and set us all off by blasting off all
over Reb's chest; I could feel his cum dripping off of Reb onto my belly as his
hole spasmed shut, trapping my tongue inside.  Reb started fucking himself on
my cock even faster, and brought the two of us off as close to simultaneously
as makes no difference, him adding to the mess in my chest fur, me pumping his
butt full of my hot mancream.

     Mick slid off to one side as Reb covered me and started rubbing our cum-
slicked, furry chests together as we gently kissed.

     "I gotta find out what's put Mick in a daze.... Hope you don't mind a
juicy ass!"

     "Fuck, no!  Get that crack down here on this face!"

     My cum had already started leaking out of his abused butt, so I
immediately got to taste my jizz hot out of his ass; it rapidly blended with
the spit and Mick's buttslime that was already in my beard and 'stache.  By the
time I finished cleaning out his fuckpit, to my surprise, we both had roaring
hardons again.

     "Jeez, Reb... I'm usually a one-shot per night man!"

     He grinned at me.  "Go take that and get somebody off as good as you did
me.  I'm gonna wake Mick up and go get something to drink."

     I grinned back.  "Damn right!"

     As I moved away, the grunts and thumps behind me told me that Reb had
decided that the best way to wake Mick up was to give his butt a good hard
fucking.

     First stop was the kitchen for a cold can of beer; after all that
buttlicking, my mouth was dry.  The kitchen was kind of a "neutral" zone where
people could go to grab a brew and recover before diving back in.  After a
couple brews, I felt like seeing what was goin' on, and started prowling around
again.

     What I saw had my dick rock-hard again, tenting out my greasy jeans.  A
glassy-eyed Rusty had his legs locked around Teddy's waist, who was holding
Rusty under the armpits, and was bouncing him up and down on a cock that
belonged on a farm animal as he walked around the room!  Teddy's ever-present
stogie, clenched between his teeth, was bouncing in time with Rusty, the ashes
collecting in Rusty's fur, and Teddy was blowin' the smoke in Rusty's face.

     The ass end of Rusty's jeans had been ripped wide open to let Teddy get at
his fuckhole, and Rusty's cock was stickin' out through his fly.  All of a
sudden, Rusty's head dropped back, and he shot all over the red fur on his
chest, makin' a real mess with all the cigar ashes already there.  Teddy pulled
him off his cock and laid him down on a nearby chair to recover.

     "I still ain't got off yet!" Teddy bellowed around his stogie.  "I need me
another hole!"

     Before I really realized what I was doing, I was simultaneously working my
tongue under Teddy's foreskin while somehow managing to get one leg of my jeans
off over my boot.  I rapidly found myself on my back, legs hooked around
Teddy's waist as a jar of Vaseline materialized out of the crowd and Teddy
greased me up.

     Teddy took a last draw off his cigar butt, blew the smoke in my face and
smiled.  "Don't wanna bust that ass permanently... just want to bust into it
for a good fuck!  You ready, stud?"

     I must have grunted something that sounded affirmative, because Teddy
started a slow but purposeful slide up my hole.  Yeah, it hurt, but he went
slow enough that it never got unbearable.  Finally, I could feel his thick
crotchfur and lowhangin' balls against my ass.  His arms were supporting his
weight on either side of my head, and his open, wet armpits had filled the
space between us with thick male musk.

     "Like my smell, eh bro?  I ain't bathed in more 'n six months.  If you
don't get yer gun till I get mine, I might just let you give me a tongue bath
later."  And with that, he started to very slowly pump his dick back and forth
in my asshole.  Thinkin' back on it, it reminds me of a heavy freight train
starting up.  Takes it a while to get up to speed, but once it's rollin', it's
damn near unstoppable.

     With that massive fuckrod in me, my own eyes went glassy long before Teddy
hit his stride.  Someone put a full inhaler of amyl in my hand, and a couple
long hits on that sent my brain on vacation and my butt took over.  I stared
into Teddy's eyes and watched as he broke out in a heavy sweat, little
crystaldrops of musk forming on his beard, mustache and forehead, and big wet
stains spreading out from his pits and down the front of his shirt.  I was
pourin' sweat too, but I didn't notice till a lot later.  Nothin' mattered but
watchin' that hot stud, and buckin' my ass back to meet his strokes.  The look
of bliss on his face when I started meeting him halfway was fuckin' wild.

     I was so focussed on Teddy's eyes I didn't notice his tongue workin' in
his mouth until he hawked a big mouthful of spit all over my face.  I gasped,
and my mouth fell open to recieve the next three gobs of thick, almost cum-like
spit, which carried the pungent flavor of the cigar he had been smokin'.  After
blasting the last one full force into my mouth, Teddy followed it with his
tongue all the way to the back of my throat, or so it seemed.

     As I started sucking on Teddy's tongue, his fuck tempo picked up a little,
and he started growling deep in his throat.  As his growling reached a peak, he
pulled his tongue out of my mouth and said, "You better be ready to get your
butt pumped full, cause I'm 'bout to shoot!"  His thrusts started to get harder
instead of faster, and his breathing grew rough.

     "Oh, yeah, fuck, fuck, ohh, yeah, oh shit, yeah, Yeah, YEAAAHHHHHH!!!!"

     Whereas before I felt like I was having a telephone pole shoved up my ass,
now it felt like a firehose -- and his thrusts didn't stop.  In fact, he was
ramming his hardest as he came, and he let go with another mouthful of spit
into my face for good measure.  That was the last straw for me, and I sent my
load blasting up along his furry chest to splatter all over the beard on the
underside of his chin.

     He slowly lowered himself down onto my body, but kept his dick in my hole.
After giving me a long, gentle, tender tongue kiss, he whispered, "Gotta piss,
bro!" in my ear.

     "Is it rank?"

     "Should be.  I ain't pissed since early this mornin'.  You want it up your
butt or all over ya?"

     "How 'bout both, if ya got enough for both jobs?"

     He grinned.  "You're a sick fucker; I like that.  Both it is!"
Immediately, another sensation of spreading warmth started in my ass; it
continued until he whipped his pissing cock out of my asshole (which I quickly
clamped shut) and started soaking me down from head to toe.  Just as he
finished pissing some into each of my boots, I grabbed his cock and drank the
last few squirts of his incredibly dark piss; it was such a dark gold it was
almost brown.  I slowly rolled up onto my hands and knees, and as I started to
kiss Teddy once again, I felt a pressure and a warmth at my fuckhole.

     "Too fuckin' far to the can, bro.  Your butt's a lot more convenient!"
said the grey-bearded biker pissing in my ass.

     "Fuck, bro, that's what it's for!"  I told him, and got back to Teddy.
Instead of returning to his lips, I decided to take the "tongue tour" of his
sweaty bod that I'd earned.  As soon as he realized my purpose, he obliged me
by stripping off his sweat-drenched shirt to give me access to his fur-carpeted
torso.

     All that fur was soaking wet and stuck to his skin with pungent, tasty
bear-sweat.  I chewed my way down through his beard, then groomed his chest
with my teeth (discovering that his nipples were big and sensitive in the
process).  After that, I dove into those armpits that had been tantalizing me
for so long.  My eyes were watering, but my nose and my tongue were in ecstacy.
I wallowed my beard in his 'pits to pick up his scent, slurped from his elbow
halfway down the side of his chest, and just generally pigged out on his
sweaty, stinkin' bod, finally collapsing across his chest.

     "Ain't you forgot somethin', bro?"

     "What's that, Teddy?"

     "Well, y'all did a fuckin' killer job on half of me, but there's another
half that hasn't felt that fantastic tongue of yours yet!"

     "Oh...." (the third [or was it fourth?  I lost count!] dude to piss up my
ass while I was slurping Teddy finished up and pulled out.)  "Um, yeah.  Ted,
I'd never want it said I passed up a funky crotch, but my tongue feels like
it's been sandblasted after suckin' yer fur.  How about next time around?  I
gotta admit I'm lookin' forward to havin' you sit that hairy butt of yours down
on my face!"

     "Me too!  But then, this IS your first party, and I don't wanna burn ya
out before you work up your stamina.  Besides, right now I think you need to go
dump all that piss you've collected!"

     "Truer words were never spoken, bro.  Catch ya in a bit."

     Feeling the desire for just a tad of privacy, I slipped out into the
backyard, which was lightly populated with small groups fuckin' and suckin' and
gettin' sleazy out in the bushes.  Feelin' a lot like a wild animal, I took my
dump under a big tree, screened off by bushes, then went back to the house.

     I found Teddy where I had left him, and stretched out on a nearby couch.

     "Too bad these damn parties of yours are only once or twice a month, bro.
This is the best time I've had in a long time!"

     "Well... it's like this all the time for me and the other bros who live
here.  Somethin' new all the time, and good hot reliable fuckin' whenever ya
need it."

     "Sounds great, ya lucky fuck.  Ohhh, yeahhh...."

     At that point, a bro with a neatly short-trimmed reddish-blonde beard
walked up and let fly all over me with a stream of hot piss.  When he finished,
he slipped his cock into my mouth and down my throat.

     Teddy laughed.  "I can see you're gonna be busy, bro.  I'll talk at ya
later.  Enjoy!"

                                   * * * * *

     I lost count of how many cocks I sucked while layin' back on that couch...
I did wake up still damp, smellin' totally rank with piss, and with my beard
stiff with dried cum.  I just wasn't sure why I had awakened; the room was
still dark and quiet.  Then my mind focussed, and I realized I was gettin' an
expert blowjob.

     "Mmmm.... fuckin' great way to wake up, bro.... oh yeah, get it all...
take that fat fucker all the way, yeah, like that, bro."  I had my hands on the
back of his neck shoving his face into my crotch.  Before long, I let him up,
and his hot tongue swirling under my foreskin got him a big mouthful of my
jism.

     It was no surprise when I realized my cocksucker was Rusty.  I watched
with a grin as he spit my load out into his hand, and rubbed it into his beard,
wiping the last of it off in his chestfur.

     "Sleazy bastard!"

     "Damn right, and you love it!!  I told you I wanted your dick, and I got
it!"

     "The way you suck, bro, you can have it any time you want it!"

     I pulled him down on top of me and started suckin' his tongue, and
nibbling him from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck.  He started
doin' the same thing to me, and what with the spit flyin' every which way.... I
found I was rock-hard again.

     "You bastards are turnin' me into a fuckin' satyr!

     Rusty leered at me.  "I sure hope so!!  Now, to take care of THAT..."

     Rusty bent down and slobbered all over my still-wet dick, then quickly
turned and slammed his ass down on my tool, all the way to my furry balls, in
one fast move.

     "Ohhh, damn that's a good fit!" Rusty moaned.

     I rolled him off me onto the floor, then hooked his legs over my shoulders
and shoved back inside.  "You're gettin' *this* load on MY terms, bro!  Brace
yerself!"

     I started fuckin' the man's hot, tight hole hard and fast, and had just
hit a nice rhythm when the little bastard hocked a huge gob of spit right in my
face (he musta seen Teddy and me goin' at it earlier).  Not to be outdone, I
blasted him back, and the two of us kept on swappin' spit until I finally
pulled out of his ass, and blasted his spit-soaked beard with my jizz.  When
that hot stuff splattered up across his cheek, *he* let go and made a sticky
mess of all that red fur on his chest.

     I got back onto the couch and pulled Rusty over.  He snuggled up close
with his back to my chest, and the two of us went back to sleep that way,
spoon-fashion.

                                   * * * * *

     The next morning, I was awakened by the smell of breakfast being made in
the kitchen.  I noticed rather guiltily that all the other guests had departed.
I was just about to slip out the door and leave for home when I was grabbed
from behind.

     "Where the fuck do you think YOU'RE going??"  Rusty asked me.  "As a
first-timer here, breakfast is part of the package.  Now get your butt in there
and clean up for breakfast!"

     "Cleaning up" was limited to washing my hands and face, as the small
bathroom Rusty shoved me into didn't have a shower.  I was rather glad of that,
actually; I was enjoying the funky smell my body and my clothes were giving
off, and I wasn't in much of a hurry to get rid of it.

     The breakfast turned out to be "Logger Style" -- simple, but lots of it.
I was introduced to the other men who lived there, around mouthfulls of eggs,
bacon and pancakes.  After breakfast, Teddy pulled out one of his huge cigars
with a couple others following suit, and two pulling out pipes.  The thought
occurred to ask Teddy where the hell he bought his stogies; none of the tobacco
shops I knew of carried anything as huge as what he smoked.

     As if he'd known what I was thinking, Teddy handed me one of his stogies
and his lighter when he'd finished firing his up.  "That fucker's a full 64
ring gauge [one inch in diameter to the uninitiated], and nine full fuckin'
inches long.  I gotta get 'em mail order, 'cause the damn wimpy smoke shops
'round here won't carry 'em.  They say that no one wants to smoke somethin'
that big these days.  Fuck 'em!"

     I lit up cautiously, expecting something that big to taste awful; I got a
pleasant surprise.  It was very tasty, but mild.  The length of the thing made
it start out cool and light, and I decided that Teddy had excellent taste.

     Teddy chuckled around his cigar.  "I could tell you were 'spectin that to
taste like horse shit, but you obviously changed your mind!"

     "Damn right!  This is delicious!"

     "Well, that settles it.  Bro, we've talked about you and decided we'd be
stupid if we didn't offer a righteous brother with good taste in bikes, sex and
stogies like yourself the last free room in the house."

     "Huh?"  Never let it be said I'm ever at a loss for words.

     "Guess you aren't awake all the way yet after last night" Teddy grinned.
"What I'm askin' ya is whether you'd like to live in this house with all these
other raunchy fuckers.  Rent's real low, and I bet livin' with brothers would
be a lot easier than livin' 'round a bunch of citizen-types.  What do ya say??"

     What could I say??  Work was no further away, and I'd be away from that
bitch of a landlady who kept complaining about the way my Harley's rumble
"echoed" in the garage.  "Right on, brother!  I would be the stupid one to pass
up an offer like this!"

     With that, everyone stood up and I was soon surrounded by my new
housemates in a massive cluster hug, with myself and Teddy at the center.  He
pulled back a little after nearly crushing me to death in a bear hug, and said
"You sure smell good 'n funky, buddy.  Hope you aren't plannin' on washin' any
time soon!"

     "In point of fact, Teddy Bear, I'm not plannin' on bathin' until the end
of the month when I have to go back to work.  And I bet we're ALL gonna get
drippin' wet with sweat movin' my stuff over here, what with the weather we've
been havin'."

     One of the other bros, a brown-bearded stud with a handlebar 'stache spoke
up at that and said "Shit, we'll have to have another party just to celebrate
all the sweat!"