It was exciting. I had big plans; none of which involved leaving the bed. The hotel was as beautiful as it was expensive. Everything was perfectly set for my first dirty weekend. Sure that I’d found my perfect man, I pulled us into the bed. Unfortunately, sitting astride the bike proved to be was the only time I had anything large and throbbing between my legs. It turned out Matt had problems with his starter motor. And when I did finally get him going, he began leaking juices straight away.
Putting it down to nervous excitement, I tried kick-starting him again but using a little less throttle and we did get going but I somehow managed to flood the engine almost straight away and it proved impossible to start him up again. Forget about taking me to the red line – Matt could barely get it out of first gear and when he did, he often slipped the clutch, and we spent most of the time waiting for him to cool down before going through the whole start-up procedure again. I wouldn’t have minded so much if he’d taken me to my rev-limiter even once…
The truth was, although he looked gorgeous sitting on the drive he was the worst ride I’d ever experienced and sadly, it looked as though I was going to have to let him find a new owner.
Of course, I didn’t tell Matt about my decision – I didn’t want to miss-out on my ride home. Filled with disappointment, sexual frustration and guilt, I spread my legs around the saddle. As Matt wound-up the throttle, the disappointment of the weekend was gone in an instant. The speed thrilled me; I was free – flying as I clung to him, the dry stone walls blurring into grey lines. Could I compromise in the bedroom to accommodate this thrill?
Shifting position through a corner, something unexpected happened. I squirmed around in the seat, trying to find it again.
There.
My breath came in a sharp gasp as something clenched inside me. For the first time during the weekend, something hard and uncompromising was being pressed into my crotch. Finally. It felt good. No: it felt great. The vibrations of the bike were being applied directly to my… Wow!! As Matt threw the throttle wide open, he gave me genuine sexual pleasure for the first time. Or was it the bike? As the engine note rose through the octaves, I finally hit my limiter.
Hiding inside the helmet, the decision to dump Matt was carefully filed away, the bike having more than earned him a stay of execution.
I’m glad that it did. There was a reason for Matt’ lack of performance – I was the first entry in his service catalogue. I went through my manual with him and gave him a few pointers. Turns out he’s more than capable of giving me the ride of my life both on the road and in the bedroom.