She was fast.
She was fierce.
She gleamed like a wish come true.
He cleaned and polished her.
He revved her engine just to hear her orgasmic sounds drown out the world.
He often got hard while riding her.
Feeling her throb between his legs until he too was throbbing, even leaking a bit.
The ride became a hot tryst they shared like a secret.
One night he had a terrible nightmare.
He had dreamed he walked outside and she was gone.
He woke in a cold sweat and ran down the stairs, out the side door and to his panting
relief, she was there.
“ No one could ride you like I do, baby,” he whispered hoarsely to her.
He loved his motorcycle perhaps more than anyone or anything else.
He felt she understood him and his need for the wanton pleasure of escape, more and more a luxury in
a callous and cruel world where no one noticed him without her.
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