So, I know what kind of moto I want...next.
The weather is warmer, and my crotch is tingling with excitement. For fuck's sakes, I'm just looking forward to having my metal boyfriend in between my legs. No need to assume I am alluding to sexual spring tinglings. Oh, well, maybe I am. But really, the snow is melting, I've busted out some shoes that are not boots, and all I can think about is riding a powerful machine. And my motorcycle too.
A coworker and I are within 'lean back to see' shot of each other and we both are... (motorcycle pun coming...) ...gearing up to the new riding season. He leans back, and one name call, gets my attention, and I know I am going to go over to his desk to see a helmet, a jacket or a custom seat. Or really, anything fuckin' awesome.
So, on Thursday, he says, at 10:30am, "wanna go over to MotoSport?" ....and I say, "Fuck ya, I was literally staring at my computer deciding what to do..."
And off we went to visit a client. I mean, look at motos and helmets.
Gawd dammit, my mac crashed, and I have to re-write some awesome. At least what's under this sentence should exceed my own hopes, as I am always trying to out do myself. What a stupid hobby to take up...self out-doing. ....I wonder what happens when I try to give myself a haircut, or better yet, a self-tattoo? .....tangent bitch.
Introduce Barry from MotoSport. Barry took me in the back. Fuck. He took me in the back door. Fuck off, english language. Barry took my coworker in the back, and I came and watched. There. That sounds better.
So, we went into the back, to see a custom moto, as Barry noticed I was practically grinding on the Sportsters in the showroom (I was just trying to get a discount - Helllooo discount for a stain on it!). Ew, I'm gross sometimes.
...Back on track here. ...There he sat. A custom Sportster Iron. Cafed. Blacked out. Roland Sands pipes and bits. Engine wrap, custom seat, shocks, bars. Fuck me. I was more excited to see this, then the feeling anyone gets the moment before you know you are going to have sex, after an eight month hiatus. That's pretty damn exciting, but this bike was perfect. I'd skip sex to hop on this moto. Sorry boys, your cocks are nice, but this moto does things to my insides, makes my heart beat, and can vibrate longer.
He was beautiful, and if Barry and me pal weren't looking, I would have probably licked it's ass end. I want to know, when it roars past me in Ktown, I'll know my saliva got on it.
Meh, I'll just make sure that, when I have my own, it'll have much of me alllll over it.
Fuck yes, that moto. A dream, but a reasonable reality. He'll be mine. .....I think I have a motorcycle crush, and am adding to the list of reasons why I am still single.
But, single, and mostly happy.
Until later, Mr. Iron.