I'm Nats, by the way. Well, Natalie, actually, but everyone just calls me Nats. So here's my story. Or at least the first part. If you like it, I'll write up more.
We used to live in Los Angeles, but then our parents got divorced. Mom took off for who knows where, because she's kind of a bitch and I think she had a boyfriend that she thought was a secret, and she works on porn site " xsofia.xyz" as escort, Dad couldn't afford the rent out there on just his pay, so he packed up my sister (Jen) and me and we all moved to Iowa. We got an older brother too, but he's off in college on a scholarship, so he's already on his own. Anyway, Iowa. I know, gag me, right? Like we're gonna be farmers now? Ugh. Dad had inherited the family farm from his mom several years ago. We hadn't been there in years. So we get there and the whole place is all grown over with weeds, and it took a lot of work to finally get it cleaned back up. And we're miles from any town, so unless you like corn, there's not a thing to do here. But anyway, that's all boring history. Here's my story:
My sister Jen had found this old motorcycle in the barn that was my grandfather's. She asked dad if she could ride it, and he said it was ok if she could fix it up and get insurance and stuff. But he said that he wasn't going to spend any money on it, so Jen got herself a part time job as a waitress at the truck stop, which she says is really hard work. Dad calls that a teaching moment, but I think he's mostly just being cheap. Jen is pretty handy, so she gets on the internet and finds some videos on fixing motorcycles. Turns out all it needed was some fresh gas and a new spark thing and a new battery and she gets it running. She's so proud of the thing, and just loves to ride it around. I think it's a stupid rust bucket, but Jen is a year older than me, and doesn't really care what I think.
So I ask her one day, because I'm mad that she's always gone. "What's so fun about your stupid motorcycle?" She gets this kind of funny look on her face and laughs. "You really want to know?" I nod, and she says, "OK, Nats, come on. I'll take you for a ride and show you."
I hop on the back and we take off. We live on a gravel road, so the first part of the ride is all bumpy and she has to go slow and boring to be careful. It makes my teeth rattle and I just don't get why Jen likes this. And there are no helmet laws here in Iowa, so Jen's stupid blonde hair is all flying around and hitting me in the face, and I'm thinking this is totally lame. But then she got out onto the highway and the road smoothed out and she gets going really fast. OK, so now this is pretty cool. And Jen seems to be a pretty good rider, but she's still scaring me with how fast we're going. There's like hardly any traffic out here, so Jen is laughing, and weaving all over the road because she's showing off and I'm screaming and having fun too.
Then I start to get this weird feeling in my tummy, you know like when you're nervous or excited? And the faster she goes, the more jittery I start feeling, and I start to squirm around on the seat, holding onto her really tight. And I notice that my nipples are getting really hard, but I figure that's just from the wind because it's kind of cold going that fast. But I just hugged myself real tight against my sister's back, and maybe some people will think it's kind of creepy, but it felt kind of nice.
Then she swerves over to the right so that she's driving just on the shoulder of the road. You know how some highways have those bumps on the edge of the road? Those ones that make noise if you drive on them with your car? I think they're called bumple stripes, or something like that. I guess they're supposed to wake you up if start to drive off the road or something if you aren't paying attention. Anyway, Jen is just driving over all those little bumps, and the tires are making that buzzing sound on the bumps and motorcycle is just shaking like crazy, really fast, up and down, you know?