“Let’s head on to the Motel, we can always come back with a gas can tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? You’re okay leaving the bike out here over night?”

“Huh. Not really. But once we get to the Motel,” I pause, smiling, all mischief and presumption. “Well, I’m not going to want to leave in a hurry, am I?”

I open the passenger door and climb in, your eyes climb up over those same old cracked leather boots, low slung fitted jeans and road worn biker jacket.

Your eyes meet again with mine. Their trusting smile, their familiar inner light, their intimacy and energy, as potent as the first time, as certain and sincere as the last time, and every time in between.

I’m just drinking you in, savoring a halo of energy I see glowing all around you, I’m lost in this moment, oblivious, I could likely wait all day!

You’re growing anxious, wondering why doesn’t he just kiss me? “Well, give us a kiss then!” you blurt out, frustrated with always having to tell me to make the first approach.

I twist in my seat, reaching my arm across your chest, easing you toward me, and me to you. Our eyes closing as our lips connect, a gentle press, tender and tentative.

It’s been so long. You feel my energy, melting, soothing, flowing. I pull away, my bright hazel eyes, wet with wanting, my voice bone dry: “I want you fox”


My pace is measured, steady and even. I’ve walked 12 miles before, but it’s been a while and it wasn’t in this heat.

My senses take in the surroundings, aware of how uncluttered and unchanging they are, the low rhythmic sound of insects in the grassland, the haze on the horizon, the cloudless sky, the clean scent of life without man.

Unencumbered my imagination drifts. Thinking how much she reminded me of you. Her outline, the light in her eyes, the wave in her long brunette hair, her smile, and the curve to her lips.

Daydreaming I conjure the moment, recalling the details, vividly reassembling the pieces. I can hear the rumble of her car, the sunlight reflecting off the windshield. Her pulling up beside me. The passenger window rolling down, her eyes connecting with mine, and mine interwoven with hers.

“Hey” she’s saying, her eyes climbing over the leather and denim of my biker clothing, and with a glint in her eye that says, what’s yours is mine!

“Hey” I’m saying, my eyes daring to leave hers, drawn down below her loose and half buttoned blouse, to the tight lines of her A-line skirt, and the toned stretch of her yoga fit thighs. The long, slender line of her legs, stretching down into the footwell.

“Need a ride?” she’s asking, and my eyes begin climbing back up over her body, drawn toward the source of the sound, to her lips and her eyes, their look loaded with secrets and promises.