Motorcycle boy, part II

You should probably ready part I first, if you haven't.



Our first night on E proved so wonderful we just had to do it again. Two pills each, two intertwined souls and a Tuesday night to share.
We talked of so many things. Your girlfriend. We really weren't very good to her, were we? She put up with so much for you. And in the end, she couldn't even save you, could she? Could I?
She waited for you while you spent that year in prison, slowly kicking the addiction. She deserved much more for how she kept you on the straight and narrow. As much as you bitched about her pissy stuck up ways, damnit, Soulmate, she was what you needed.
Remember the day you were leaving, headed down to DC and her, and you had to stop by my place to see me 'just one more time?' before you went away for the weekend? We both knew right then and there. You know, the whole soulmate shit. Tearing my body away from yours to send you on your way that night felt like swimming upstream against molasses.
But you owed her more than that. Even though you couldn't shut your mouth, could you? You made casual conversation about me.. telling her about the sticker I had on my car, or the funny joke I'd just told you.
Of course she knew. Who better to recognize a new love than the old one? She called you on it. You confessed our affair and somehow worked an arrangement with her to stay together. You owed her. You were right. I couldn't blame you.
It was easier not to talk. Talking only reminded us of how we got along. Those times when we'd talk we'd usually end up sneaking out of work for “LUNCH” - ravenous starving sensualities melding, sometimes before we even made it to my truck during our parkinglot rendez-vous.
The times between when you were behaving... Every loud muffler that went down my street perked my ears – wishing it was your bike arriving at my front door.
Remember my lunch hour of pleasure for my birthday? I wasn't kidding when I crowned you oral sex champion of the world. You know I think of you everytime someone sings the fucking birthday song. And I can't tell you how many times I've sly smiled, thinking of you as I hum someone a happy birthday with their cock down my throat or clit in my teeth.
Remember our crazy trip to San Fran? You were there for work and somehow I finagled a few extra days out of my business trip to hang out. We even talked GH into flying out to visit – bag of nuggs taped securely to his ballbag.. We smoked that hotel room out! The night we all went to that tranny bar will always be one of my most amusing memories. Watching GH play junglegym/dance partner to the two hottest Asian trannies in the place was a close second to being questioned about solicitation while i stood on the corner waiting for you to return from trying to strike a deal with that hooker to come back to our hotel room and do dirty things with us. I should have known when all the girls in tight skirts ducked behind cars and slunk away as the cop car pulled up to me...
I didn't get booked, GH didn't kiss a tranny (even a passable one) and you never did convince that whore to come back to the hotel with us... but I still remember that ride back, laying on your shoulder in the back of the cab.
That trip wasn't all fun and magic you know. The worst was watching your face and whole demeanor change when your girlfriend called. You would instantly stop any fun you might be having, and tensions would mount. You'd frown and I'd stop touching you.
I hated that. I decided then and there that what we were doing was not right, and couldn't continue. You went back to her and I thought we were through.
I met nofan. I thought I could turn him into your replacement. I thought I could be the perfect stepford wife – in love- with this man I couldn't stand half of the time and couldn't believe would choose me the other half. And things went relatively well.
I heard through the grapevine that you had broken up with Elise. I'll admit, there was a lot of whistfullness on my part. I wanted to find you – find out what we could be... Except I already knew what I was with nofan...

Our first night on E proved so wonderful we just had to do it again. Two pills each, two intertwined souls and a Tuesday night to share.
We talked of so many things. Your girlfriend. We really weren't very good to her, were we? She put up with so much for you. And in the end, she couldn't even save you, could she? Could I?
She waited for you while you spent that year in prison, slowly kicking the addiction. She deserved much more for how she kept you on the straight and narrow. As much as you bitched about her pissy stuck up ways, damnit, Soulmate, she was what you needed.
Remember the day you were leaving, headed down to DC and her, and you had to stop by my place to see me 'just one more time?' before you went away for the weekend? We both knew right then and there. You know, the whole soulmate shit. Tearing my body away from yours to send you on your way that night felt like swimming upstream against molasses.
But you owed her more than that. Even though you couldn't shut your mouth, could you? You made casual conversation about me.. telling her about the sticker I had on my car, or the funny joke I'd just told you.
Of course she knew. Who better to recognize a new love than the old one? She called you on it. You confessed our affair and somehow worked an arrangement with her to stay together. You owed her. You were right. I couldn't blame you.
It was easier not to talk. Talking only reminded us of how we got along. Those times when we'd talk we'd usually end up sneaking out of work for “LUNCH” - ravenous starving sensualities melding, sometimes before we even made it to my truck during our parkinglot rendez-vous.
The times between when you were behaving... Every loud muffler that went down my street perked my ears – wishing it was your bike arriving at my front door.
Remember my lunch hour of pleasure for my birthday? I wasn't kidding when I crowned you oral sex champion of the world. You know I think of you everytime someone sings the fucking birthday song. And I can't tell you how many times I've sly smiled, thinking of you as I hum someone a happy birthday with their cock down my throat or clit in my teeth.
Remember our crazy trip to San Fran? You were there for work and somehow I finagled a few extra days out of my business trip to hang out. We even talked GH into flying out to visit – bag of nuggs taped securely to his ballbag.. We smoked that hotel room out! The night we all went to that tranny bar will always be one of my most amusing memories. Watching GH play junglegym/dance partner to the two hottest Asian trannies in the place was a close second to being questioned about solicitation while i stood on the corner waiting for you to return from trying to strike a deal with that hooker to come back to our hotel room and do dirty things with us. I should have known when all the girls in tight skirts ducked behind cars and slunk away as the cop car pulled up to me...
I didn't get booked, GH didn't kiss a tranny (even a passable one) and you never did convince that whore to come back to the hotel with us... but I still remember that ride back, laying on your shoulder in the back of the cab.
That trip wasn't all fun and magic you know. The worst was watching your face and whole demeanor change when your girlfriend called. You would instantly stop any fun you might be having, and tensions would mount. You'd frown and I'd stop touching you.
I hated that. I decided then and there that what we were doing was not right, and couldn't continue. You went back to her and I thought we were through.
I met nofan. I thought I could turn him into your replacement. I thought I could be the perfect stepford wife – in love- with this man I couldn't stand half of the time and couldn't believe would choose me the other half. And things went relatively well.
I heard through the grapevine that you had broken up with Elise. I'll admit, there was a lot of whistfullness on my part. I wanted to find you – find out what we could be... Except I already knew what I was with nofan...