This is the story of my first fight with Dallas and the resulting make up sex.
--------------------------------------------------------------
It was a beautiful day for a motorcycle ride. It was a brisk day in early winter along the Sea of Japan coast, some wispy clouds decorating an otherwise beautiful blue sky that stretched to the horizon beyond the water. My first short story had just been published on an online sci-fi literary magazine (you can probably find it if you look hard enough), and in celebration, I spent the night at Dallas's apartment again. After a night of celebration in the form of slippery debauchery, Dallas let me borrow his motorcycle and riding jacket for the day and I was riding along a long coastal road.
I turned into a rest stop parking lot overlooking the sea. It was filled with motorcycles and cars coming and going for the weekend. Looking for an open spot, I scanned left and right for a place to park while riding along slowly in first gear. Once I found a place under some wisteria shade on the far side of the lot, I pulled in and then used my foot to pull the gear shifter into neutral. The bike's V-twin engine continued to rumble loudly under me, its now inhibited torque vibrating my whole body. I let off both the brake and clutch levers, and then switched the bike off. It shuddered under me to a stop.
The engine was still hot after a long ride, the air around it wavering visibly. I put my gloved hands directly against one of the rocker boxes. The heat from the V-twin engine transferred to my hands, warming them after being cooled to a frigid coldness during my ride.
After I warmed my hands, I kicked the kickstand down and then, with my helmet still on and my tinted visor down, I stood up off my bike and fished my phone out of my pocket, stepping a few feet away from Dallas's bike.
"Where the hell is this place?" I thought to myself as I pulled one of my gloves off so that I could keypad open my phone. I was looking for a tonkatsu restaurant that I had a found online, and it was supposed to be around here somewhere. Either I hadn't seen it and had passed it already or it was just down the street.
"Dallas! Dallas!" I heard a feminine voice behind me shout, and I turned partially around, looking for the source.
A Japanese woman in her 30s was skipping over toward me from the other side of the lot, weaving between cars and bikes along the way, waving one lithe arm the whole time. She was wearing tight black riding leather pants and boots, which revealed the outline of nice long thin legs. A leather jacket zipped diagonally up to her neck covered her from her wrists to her throat, but it was obvious that she was thin at her waist and large at her chest. Her shining dark hair, folded into one plait braid bounced back and forth behind her in time with each long stride of her legs across the parking lot. As she approached, I could see better and better, dark almond eyes and thin eyebrows decorating a beautiful face. I was getting a serious "Nanako Matsushima in tight biking gear" vibe, and it was awe-inspiring. (Go ahead and look up "Nanako Matsushima". It's easily worth thirty seconds of your time.)
Yup. I just stood there, holding my phone in one hand as this gorgeous biker babe just walked right up to me.
"Dallas?" she asked again a few steps away from me, this time more quizzically, her head titling slightly to one side, the sides of her eyebrows curving up at the edges.
"Nope. Not Dallas. Sorry," I finally said, simultaneously raising my face shield to reveal my face and stuffing my phone back into my pocket. She instantly took a step back, recognizing that I wasn't who she thought I was.
"Oh I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I thought you were someone I know," she said, first jutting her hands palms out and then taking a step back, followed by some quick bowing in minor contrition a few times.
"Did you think I was Dallas ******?" I asked, smiling widely and pointing one finger at myself as I did so.
"YES! Your bike looks just like his!" she said excitedly, the index fingers on both of her hands pointing toward Dallas's bike next to me and stepping one pace back toward me. She returned my smile, her face radiating warmth.
"Oh, it's his bike. It's his bike. I'm just borrowing it for a day," I said, turning along with her to look at Dallas's bike next to us. It was distinctive looking even though it hadn't been customized very much. The make and model (and the rumble) were both fairly rare among Japanese motorcycles.
"Oh, so do you know Dallas?" she asked me earnestly, both of her hands resting on each side of her thin waist.
Since my first date with Dallas a month ago, I had spent the night at his apartment a few times each week, taking his fat cock up my ass and down my throat more times than I could count. Dallas was twenty years older than me, but he had quickly learned exactly where my g-spot was, and became a master at sliding his giant fuckrod right along it in just the perfect way, bringing me to some of the strongest orgasms I've ever had. He had done things to me that no man had ever done to me, and I always tried to reciprocate with my youthful lust, blowing his behemoth repeatedly and swallowing its impressively large load each time until he moaned his pleasure loud enough to notify the neighbors as to exactly what we were doing.
"Yeah, I know Dallas pretty well," I replied, smiling broadly while unclasping the chin strap under my helmet and giggling at the question.
"Oh, are you two friends?" she asked me again, stepping closer to me again and under the shade of the wisteria.
"Yeah, you could say that. I only met him a month ago, but we're close now," I said as I removed my full face helmet, my dirty blonde hair spilling down out of it. I wiped my hair back past my eyes with one gloved hand.
Her eyes suddenly narrowed and her head titled slightly to the right. Then she took one stride toward me with her long legs and lightly touched my arm with one hand.
"You're wearing his jacket," she said flatly, gripping the wrist of the leather of Dallas's riding jacket around my arm with one hand.
"Yeah, he let me borrow it," I replied.
"Oh. You're his new boyfriend!" she said excitedly, her hand on my wrist darting up to her lips, her lithe fingers partially obscuring her smile.
"Well, we're just dating now. He's not my boyfriend," I said after a moment, holding my helmet in one hand, blushing slightly.
"Oh wow. I can see why he likes you. You're really cute!" she said excitedly again, smiling widely and bobbing her body a little as she spoke.
"Thanks. You're quite attractive yourself," I replied.
She took one large step toward me and darted one hand out to shake.
"Hi, I'm Ruri by the way. I go touring together with Dallas a few times a year," Ruri said, beaming her stunning smile again as I extended my own hand to shake hers.
"Nice to meet you Ruri. I'm Tesh," I said, shaking her small hand.
"Nice to meet you too," she said, shaking my hand back.
"You wanna get some lunch?" I asked her curiously.
---------------------
I don't know if there's a bisexual version of the Bechdel test, but if there is, Ruri and I definitely failed it during lunch. While we ate tonkatsu at the restaurant that I had been looking for, we talked about Dallas, how I met Dallas, and how she met Dallas. I told Ruri that I met Dallas when I tried to buy his bike and that we'd been dating for about a month. Every time I went over to his apartment to talk about buying his bike, we'd get distracted with other things like Dallas's extremely high libido.
Ruri said she met Dallas at a wedding. She'd already heard about Dallas from one of her friends, and she was struck by how attractive he was. From the stories that she'd heard, Ruri assumed that Dallas was only into guys, but he kept flirting with her throughout the whole ceremony. They discretely exchanged numbers. They were together for a year or so, and this is when she started getting into motorcycling. Things feel apart between them, however, when Ruri learned that Dallas had constantly stepped out of their relationship, with both boyfriends and girlfriends. According to rumors, Dallas had even seduced the wedding couple. She wasn't threatened by the bisexuality, but she was angry about what she saw as infidelity.
I learned quite a bit about Dallas over lunch. Ruri said that Dallas had a lot of boyfriends, and that Ruri and Dallas had actually shared a couple of the younger ones. Ruri said that she'd never seen Dallas lend his riding jacket to anyone, not even her. Ruri also inadvertently revealed that they'd had sex recently. That pissed me off, but I contained my anger and we parted amicably.
