Motorcycle mama has returned!

I called him, left a message, and felt sure I was being blown off--because as I said before, I am neurotic. But, he was outside doing yard work and was planning on still going, but was just waiting to see if it was going to warm up. Yeah!

It was only our second date, so I was really happy when he invited me to his place, then proceeded to show me around, introduce me to a very sweet, though very spoiled dog he refers to as his son, and tell me about various pictures he had displayed (no chicks! Whew) and pointed out family members.

It was a very sweet, basically uneventful date--and I say that in a good way. Even when we stopped at a Harley bar, because he wanted to look at the bikes, it was uneventful, which was, in a weird way, disappointing. But let's dive in to my twisted mind, shall we?

First off, my own body is conspiring against me. I am sure of this. I had full-blown PMS all last week. I even has a crying fit in the hallway in front of my class Friday when the transmission on my car went out (although, knowing how much a new transmission costs, and that I was going to get rid of the car once summer was here, that may be justified!). It was baaaad. Backache, headache, and even heartache that I made up in my mind. I suffered through this for a complete week. Then Aunt Flo decides to make her visit the day I am riding a motorcycle with a hunky man. As I am sitting on the back of the bike, with my legs wide apart and sort of around him, and vibrating down a windy highway, I was scared to death of what could be happening. "Please oh please oh please don't leak and stain the seat of the bike!!! But it is black. Would he notice? Would he notice?! Ummm...yeah...When he cleans the bike with the tender-loving care he obviously has for it, you idiot!" I am happy to report--no leakage--but the bottom of my bright orange tennis shoes DID melt all over the pipe. OOPS! He was very sweet about it and offered to buy me new shoes if they were bad--which it really isn't. I was worried I ruined the chrome, but he assured me it would be fine with some chrome polish.

I was ping-ponging back and forth between euphoria--(My thighs are squeezing his rock-hard boo-tay!) to panic--(Is that rock-hard boo-tay picking up that my thighs look as if they were crudely carved out of a block lard???)--too the musical--"I'm gonna wrap my legs around his velvet rims and strap my hands across his engine!"--to the pensive--"Would he freak if I really did wrap my hands across his 'engine'? Would it be okay to nuzzle the back of his neck? Would my tongue in his ear distract him and possibly cause an accident?" And this was BEFORE I had any wine! I am normally not overtly sexual. Really. I am the sort of girl who needs to be wooed, ask any of the sexually frustrated men I have dated! Well, except for that one...

Anyway, it was a good date. He is huge, and manly and muscular, yet soft spoken and sweet and nurturing. He was all about making sure I was fine and happy. Still no good night kiss, (Thank GOD he isn't psychic and couldn't read my mind and know what I was thinking on the back of that bike!) but another hug--which somehow topped the first one. I didn't know a hug could be so satisfying. Seriously. Still, I better get a little kissy-facey next time--and he did say there would be a next time! Whoo-Hoo!