Watching Motorcycles

"You! I want you."

Alex had been watching the beautiful, confident woman from across the uncomfortably crowded room, hoping she hadn't noticed. He couldn't help it. She was just too attractive. It wasn't necessarily her physical features that made it impossible for him to look away, it was her extreme self-assurance, a feature he admired, as he lacked it completely.

"Wha... What?"

He would have given a lot to be able to come up with a more eloquent answer, but he was never good around women, even when he wasn't shocked and awestruck.

"You." She slowly repeated it, as if she was talking to a moron, while pointing a manicured finger at his huge chest. "I," she added, while pointing at herself. "Want you. Understood?"

Alex nodded. He felt somewhat relieved that he could actually move muscles to form a hopefully appropriate response, given the completely unexpected situation. It was a miracle he had been invited to a party. It was absurd to think any woman in her right mind might want him, let alone one who looked like her. He was painfully aware of his shortcomings. He was a freak, an abomination.

She hooked a perfectly styled forefinger in his belt and dragged him along like a toy, out of the loud crowded room he had loathed so much. He looked around, and as he had feared, everyone was looking at the two of them and smiling. Or laughing, or maybe snickering. He was like a fairground attraction. Was this a prank? Had she lost a bet? Maybe she was visually impaired.

Somewhere in his massive chest, there lingered the hope that this beautiful, confident woman might actually want him, Alex, despite his rugged looks (putting it kindly), his obvious inexperience, his complete social ineptitude. He focused on that slim hope and followed her. He had been trained to obediently follow confident women, his mother and his aunt had seen to that.

"I like you. I will take you," she said, casually informing him of her decision. Alex didn't mind her decisiveness; it made him comfortable. He did sort of wish he knew her name.

"I, ummm..." was Alex's brilliant reply. Her confidence hit all the right switches in his brain, disabling his own will.

"You live around here?" she replied, completely unfazed by his monosyllabic answers. He thought it wouldn't have mattered if he had replied in ancient Greek or not at all. She would inform him when she expected a substantive reply.

"Y... yes, over there." He pointed at his house, which was by far the biggest around and in plain view on top of a little hill.

"Good. That will do. Let's go there."

With that, she simply pulled him along again. While Alex was 130 kilos of almost pure muscle and physically could have resisted anything short of a freight train, he simply lacked the capacity to resist this woman. If this was a foretaste of what was to come, he was okay with it. It was a situation he was comfortable with and used to.

Alex had not drawn a winning ticket in the parental lottery. When his mother, father, and aunt weren't busy ignoring him, they isolated him from the world and trained him to blindly obey any directive from a confident woman: specifically, his mother and his aunt. Why they thought this was a good idea, he never thought to ask, or even wonder. However, they were at least thoughtful enough to leave him their complete fortune when they died in the crash of their private plane. He was financially set for life, but an emotionally crippled virgin with almost no social contact. The first thing he did after the dust settled was leave the isolated, bunker-like mansion in which he had grown up and purchase a nice, comfortable, but not over-the-top house.

"This one?" she asked as they approached his house.

"Yes. The white one." Alex squeaked out the confirmation in an entirely unmanly-sounding way.

"Even nicer up close. Yours?"

"Uh, huh."

"Brilliant. I'll like it there." She smiled happily as she pulled Alex up the hill by his belt buckle, as if he were a handy piece of luggage.

"You..." he started, but shut his mouth quickly again. Don't go spoiling this, Alex, he thought. This was the chance of a lifetime. In a willed haze, he let her pull him wordlessly towards his own house, wondering what she had in mind for him. He thought there was a decent chance he would enjoy it. Standing in front of his door, she looked around.

"The front yard clearly needs some attention," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Ahh... okay..." He wondered why was she talking about his front yard right then, but chose to remain silent.

"Okay, let's see the inside."

"Ah... yeah."

He let her in. What else could he do? She was not merely a woman; she was a force of nature. He was being eaten alive and he was enthusiastic about it. Someone wanted him. He felt comfortable with her, almost as if he were back with his mother and his aunt, though this woman was a lot better looking. And he was hoping that with her, maybe... well. He would see.

After a short tour through the house and a few comments ("We'll need a new kitchen"), they ended up in the master bedroom. To be precise, he ended up underneath her ("You're a big boy, I think it's better with me on top").

Alex had thoughts about what his First Time with a Woman might be like. It was always with capital letters. His ideas were a mélange of romantic bits from novels read in school, mixed up with his own imaginations--what was left of them after his female relatives had drummed most of them out of him. He had expected some tender and caring exploration of each other's bodies, lots of kissing and caressing, looking into each other's eyes lovingly. He had expected a kind of cosmic connection with another person, mind, body, and heart, unlike anything he had experienced before. What actually happened felt as if she was just using his body for her sexual gratification. Sure, it felt great, and he got his jollies, but he somehow sensed that for her, that was more like an unavoidable and unimportant side effect. He tried to hold her and cuddle her afterward--he'd read somewhere that women like that--but she didn't seem interested. Still, Alex had finally lost his virginity at the age of 25. It had always felt like a burden, a stigma, something that nobody could ever know of.

"I'm Lisa, by the way," she calmly remarked afterwards. He was to discover that Lisa dispensed information on a strict need-to-know basis. It seemed the fact that they'd just had sex meant that he should know her first name. Her knowing his name seemed unnecessary at this time.

* * * * *

The house generally benefited from Lisa's presence. She bought and installed a plethora of female-style knick-knacks at which Alex would never have looked twice. They were ridiculous on their own, but in their entirety, they had the magic ability to turn a house into a home. Of course, she got the new kitchen she wanted. Of course, Alex paid for everything, which didn't hurt him in the least. It was totally worth it. He was in a relationship, like a normal person. He had a girlfriend, which he proudly told anyone who would listen.

He was happy, completely and utterly happy, for the first time ever. He was also totally in love and trusted Lisa completely. Those were the good times, the walking on cloud nine days. He would always remember those times fondly.

* * * * *

He heard her key in the lock and jumped up. Lisa was back, just in time. Everything was set for one of the romantic evenings they both enjoyed so much.

"Lisa! I didn't know we were expecting a visitor," Alex said, as he approached her to offer his usual welcome-home kiss.

"This is Ralph, honey," she replied while avoiding the kiss. "He's a..."

"Friend," Ralph helped her out. "I'm a friend," he repeated unnecessarily.

"Friend... okay. How long have you known her?"

"I met her a few hours ago, buddy."

Alex might have been shy and inexperienced, but he wasn't dumb. Ralph was grinning arrogantly, straight at Alex. This guy obviously planned on having sex with his Lisa, and had good reasons for that assumption.

Alex took a good look at the guy. He was small compared to Alex, but then most guys were. Alex thought he was remarkably repulsive. If Lisa really had let this guy believe he'd get lucky, his looks were certainly not the reason. Maybe he had some success with insecure women, because of his brashness. Not with confident women like Lisa, though. Alex was thoroughly puzzled. Something was going on, he didn't understand what, and didn't want to act while still confused.

"Don't worry about any of this, honey," Lisa softly reassured him. She turned her brightest smile on him as she stroked his massive chest. "It has nothing to do with us. You know we aren't exclusive. We can both see others, as long as we are careful never to harm our love."

"So I could see other women too?" Alex asked, and they both knew it was as unrealistic as jumping to the moon.

"Of course you could," she gushed, almost laughing at the thought of Alex chatting up a woman. "Don't you worry, honey. If you don't want to join in, it won't last long and everything will be just as it was. You and I will still be the only ones who count."

Ralph confirmed his lack of class by grinning continuously and placing his hand on Lisa's butt. She smiled up at him and let him push her gently towards the bedrooms. Alex could hear them laughing later, and it hurt like hell. He was sure they were laughing at him, and he thought they had every reason to. He felt defeated, worthless, powerless. Being with Lisa had been the only good thing that had ever happened to him, and now it was gone. He had thought that with Lisa, he could build a normal life, live like a normal human being. With her, could leave the loneliness and ridicule of his old life behind. Now Lisa was shattering that dream, in his own bed, in his own house. He had to get out. He left the house to walk aimlessly through the cold biting air.

Hours later, in the early morning, he finally found the courage to return home, or perhaps he was just cold and tired. He had hoped to find the guy gone and Lisa asleep. He didn't know if he would ever confront Lisa: he avoided confrontation at almost any cost, especially with her. He certainly didn't want to do it that night. He walked quietly into his bedroom, hoping not to wake her.

"There you are, honey," Lisa greeted him. She was dressed (undressed, really) just the way he liked her, and she turned her brightest smile on him, with a hint of mischief in her eyes that promised untold delights. He loved seeing her like this, and she knew it. On the other hand, she had hurt him deeply, and he had no idea what he wanted to do about it.

"I've been waiting for you," she cooed. She placed sweet little kisses everywhere. Alex tried to resist, but it was impossible. She caressed him everywhere at once. It seemed she had three mouths and five hands, and undressed him in no time.

The sex was unlike anything they'd had before. She loved him slowly, caressing every inch of him, gazing into his eyes, pampering and romancing him just as he had imagined during all the lonely years. A brief thought danced through his mind: Lisa could make love slowly and gently, when she wanted to. Then that thought and all thoughts were gone, and he was immersed in his beautiful girlfriend. This was what he'd dreamed of! It almost felt like losing his virginity all over again. Amazingly, Lisa too seemed to have more and better orgasms this way.

Lisa remained extra loving for weeks. She was obviously determined to make Alex very happy, and she was successful. He managed to block out that one evening and returned to living his personal dream.

Alex thought that Lisa seemed very happy too, and he was right about that. He was just wrong about the reasons. She had won an important battle.

* * * * *

Michael was his name this time. Or was it Thomas? He couldn't remember too well and it didn't seem important anyway. They weren't exclusive, she always said.

"Not my fault," he always replied. "I'm ready for that." He had proposed to her three times. Her invariable reply had been that she wasn't ready yet, she would be someday, but she didn't know when.

"I know, my love, and I'm so grateful," she had replied. "But I'm not. Be patient, my love. I soon will be." As always when she was hurting him, her tone was extra soft and loving. Perhaps she thought it made the hurt easier for him to bear. Perhaps she wasn't thinking of him at all.

"Ready? How can you not be ready? Either you love me or you don't."

"It's not that simple, my dear Alex. You know how much I crave excitement, variety. I know that I'm hot..."

"Yeah, yeah, and I'm not."

"Alex, that's not what this is about. I need something different now and then, and one man, no matter how hot or wonderful, can't meet that need. Not even you. Anyway, as soon as I'm ready, I will stop my little meaningless dalliances."

"Aaand...?"

"And I'm not ready for that. Not yet. Be patient, my love. Those guys mean nothing to me. You are my number one man, and always will be."

It was always the same conversation, even if the words were slightly different. The result was the same, too: she was cheating on him, again, and would continue to do so until some indefinite someday when she would decide to stop. Yeah, right, the thirty-first of Never, he thought. It might not have been so bad if she didn't look so excited and happy when she announced that yet another Happy Harry was going to fuck her.

For a few weeks, Alex had the world by the tail. No longer. He was deeply unhappy and humiliated. Oh, he still got the "reward" phase after she'd fucked one of her lame-ass studs, complete with little touches and kisses and deep looks into her eyes, and romantic love-making. But those phases were getting shorter as her cheating became more frequent.

Alex had plenty of time for reflection while Lisa carried out her "meaningless dalliances." He suspected she was telling the truth, that they really were meaningless. The guys weren't prizes; he was sure she could attract better. Was it all about power and control? Is that what she wanted? That was a situation he'd been familiar with all his life. That didn't mean he had any idea what to do about it, or how to escape it. Or even if he wanted to.

Lisa had just announced another "meaningless dalliance." As usual, it hurt like hell, and gave more power to his already rampant insecurities. Alex couldn't be bothered to remember the name she mentioned; he just thought of them all as "Harry" and that was good enough for him. He employed his usual strategy of avoiding conflict by becoming absent. The gym was his first stop, but when he'd had all that his body could handle, it was still too early to go home. Unless, of course, he wanted a cozy chat with Happy Harry. He figured he could kill some more time at a motorcycle show he'd seen advertised in the paper. He'd never been to one, but he thought he could figure out how to act by watching the others after he got there. Unfortunately, all they were doing was wandering about some garage, staring at motorcycles. Seriously? Motorcycles? He supposed he could kill off some more time this way, if terminal boredom didn't kill him first.

Alex sighed as he turned around, trying to spot the differences between the motorcycles he'd stared at and the ones (if any) he hadn't. As he turned, he felt a small bump to his belly and heard an "ooompf" sound. He looked down just in time to see a tiny female bouncing off his gym hardened (and fortunately, freshly showered) midriff.

He barely felt the impact, but as he looked down, he saw a mane of long hair bouncing back rather violently. He hadn't seen her before she ran into him because she was so short she was below his field of vision. He looked down at her, only to see her stumbling around like a drunk actor in a bad comedy as she tried to regain her balance. Her discombobulated dance ended with her falling onto her tiny ass.

"Sorry," he said, which was what he always did. He just so big and clumsy, apologizing was completely automatic. She looked up at him, and the shock on her face was replaced by an honest, genuine, quite attractive smile. The surprise was now on Alex's face. He was not used to people, especially pretty women, seeming happy as they looked at him.

He looked at her more carefully. She was a woman of about his own age, she was tiny and very pretty. Just as he was absurdly large, she was way too tiny. It somehow gave him a sense of camaraderie. She looked up at him with eyes that seemed too big for her small face. He found himself thinking of Hobbits, but prettier. Seeing her made Alex feel good, and that was another thing he wasn't used to anymore.

"Thank you," she wheezed as he extended a hand to help her up. She was out of breath, so it seemed she had been running before colliding with him.

"For being the obstacle you could run into? Well, any time..." he grinned, trying to lighten the situation.

"No, no, I'm really sorry. I wasn't looking. I was just running."

"Towards something or away from..."

"Hey, I take care of her from here. Thanks for stopping her, buddy," someone rudely interrupted their pleasant conversation. The little woman immediately shied away from the guy, as if she wanted to hide behind the huge obstacle she had run into. Alex looked at the guy, then at her and noticed her split lip and the beginning of a shiner on her left eye. He wondered what the hell was happening.

The pursuer was a medium sized, mean looking unshaven guy with an unaesthetically protruding spare tire around his mid-section. His longish, black hair was gelled back, and his sunglasses were strategically positioned on top of his head. He wore a thick gold chain around his neck, a fake smile and an out of style cheap black leather jacket. Alex looked downward to see how his new acquaintance completed his ensemble. Sweatpants and sneakers, perhaps? Could he really be that much of a walking cliché? Well, yes, he could. He had nailed the cheap wannabe criminal look from top to bottom. The decision to dislike him was easy.

"Oh no," Alex heard the whispered voice from behind his right shoulder.

Alex had never been in a fight in his whole life. His size combined with his generally peaceful and shy nature made that unnecessary. People didn't want to offend him, and he wanted as little to do with confrontations as possible. But this was different. A small, weak female needed his help. It was impossible for him to just leave her to her fate. Still, he would much prefer to find a way to solve this peacefully.

"I think the lady should decide..."

"That's no lady, that's just Dani. She's my property, so just move on. Please." He added the last word in an absurdly exaggerated friendly tone, trying to sound like a smooth businessman. It didn't work. This guy was a bruiser, or at least wanted to be one, and normally, Alex would find several reasons to simply avoid him. But half-hidden behind him was a woman who shouldn't be next to such a brute. She was too small, too delicate, too frightened. Lisa would have handled this guy easily, he thought. A well-placed kick in the nuts, an imperative sentence or two, and things would be headed in the right direction. Namely, Mr. Greaser would be headed for the floor.

"Well, we better ask her."

"Listen, my friend..."

"I'm not your friend, okay?" Alex amazed himself by sounding assertive. Alex the Harmless had suddenly found an unknown confrontation mode. He felt a strong and surprising urge to protect her. Dani. That was what the ugly man said. He decided he needed to save Dani.

The greasy guy had obviously either classified him as "big, but harmless" or was aggressive all the time, regardless of who he was speaking with. In any case, he didn't shy away from a confrontation with the much bigger man.