Duncan Cyrus, age 24, Biker
I was able to have a free night. My first semester and already I was exhausted from the first month. My life became: job, college lab, and papers. I didn't have time for projects I liked doing. My "social life", which was mainly I meet a nice big girl every once in a while dwindled to zero. I didn't get to see my parents all that much either and I only lived half an hour away from them; an hour depending on time of day and traffic. Which is funny, because of my hermit life away from people, other than co-workers and peers, my pops had set me up on a date with an old teacher of his granddaughter. I didn't mind, not like I was dating or trying to be with anyone.
I gave her a call and she sounded very tough. At least I didn't have to worry about games being played. She was very straightforward. Our conversation was just the usual: names, family, interests, likes and dislikes. She was in love with motorcycling. She was even part of a biker gang. She called it a biker group or association. It's an all-female group. I believe the name was Angels. I was told there was a literal fight over two names. Arc and Fallen were the names that were debated over.
We decided to meet at a bar. Not my scene, but it was where she felt comfortable. I had already gotten us a booth when I arrived. Even over the loud music and talking I could hear the bike rumble. She came in and the woman had to be close to my age or maybe a year or two older. She wore her leather, black jacket. It was unzipped and she was wearing a shirt showing off her exposed cleavage. That was a sight to behold. Her tight, hip hugging, dark blue jeans put on display her chubby ass prominently. She was very cute, in a hardcore chick way. Very dark skinned and a pearly smile. She was about an inch to two inches shorter than me.
So what do you think? Did she consider herself an arc angel or a fallen angel? On the back of the jacket they all have a picture of themselves either with a heaven background or a hell one. The woman acted like a fallen one but she swore she was the arc type. Didn't really matter to me because I was enjoying the view from the other side of the table. She tried to get on my case that I was paying more attention to her boobs than her, but she always made sure she plastered them in my view. Our hangout was cool. We even armed wrestled. She thought she was the strongest thing on two legs. It wasn't an exaggeration really, but I was no slouch myself. I do live by myself and I have nearly been in fights. Mostly I accepted defeat because to appease her. She liked challenging men to such things; especially dominating geeky nerds such as me.
She did like I was back in school, stating that it's sexy doing what I need to do to get ahead in life. I had to admit when she told she worked as an interior designer it threw me a loop. She first went to school as an engineer but found decorating homes more enjoyable.