Riding a Motorcycle With Your Man

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There is nothing like riding behind your man on a motorcycle… the exhilarating speed as everything whirs past in a blur, the roar of the engine, your arms and legs wrapped around him in complete trust. Your body presses flush against his, and you want to snuggle closer, lay your head on his back, but your helmet prevents the contact. So you settle for sliding your hands into the pockets of his jacket, so they can stay warm while you hold on to him. He’s strong and brave and he’s accepted the responsibility of keeping you safe. When he stops at the traffic light, he reaches back and caresses your leg – lovingly, but possessively. The guy in the car next to you looks over with envy… and the girl in the seat next to him looks over with envy… and a little lust.

When he’s riding alone, you experience a mix of emotions. You’re turned on because… hot guy on a hot motorcycle, yet you worry about his safety. And when you’re waiting for him – when he’s coming to pick you up, or coming home to you, you wait in what seems like a deafening silence. Until you hear it… in the far distance. The rumble of 750 cc’s… or 1100. The sexy sound of a motorcycle engine that accelerates your breathing, not unlike Pavlov’s experiment. But it’s not just any motorcycle approaching, it’s his. Somehow, you can differentiate the sound of your man’s bike from any others. And although he’s traveling responsibly, within the posted speed limits, it sounds supersonic. Your pulse rate increases, as the sound gets louder. Holy shit! He’s almost here! The thunderous roar is right outside… and then quiets.

While he removes the key from the ignition and his helmet from his head, you picture thick, denim-clad legs balancing the heavy bike while he dismounts. You know just how heavy the bike is. When it broke down, he told you to take a ride home in the car with your friends when they stopped to offer help. But you refused. You stayed behind and helped him push his bike to safety.

You feel like a puppy waiting for its master at the door, but you don’t care. He’s home, he’s safe and he’s yours.

Heal quickly, DB.

 

Sha Renée

Creating stories on the pages where duty, honor and passion unite. 

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