Friday, June 1, 2012
Oh the delicious delirium, the joyful rapture, the ecstasy, bliss, passion. To be deprived of my beloved Bob for two weeks, feeling achingly empty without his silent, steady, strong presence, was agony. I was bereft, lost, longing, pining, melancholy. Now, with his 1200cc's gripped firmly between my thighs, the vibrations of his loyal heart pounding through me, the warm wind caressing me, we dance through tight corners, rocketing out onto the straights, two as one, complete. The exhilaration is astounding, even after all these years, the fire and passion have not dimmed. My heart yearns for him as strongly, if not more so, than it did from our very beginning. He makes me feel more alive, more passionate, than should be legal. My heart races, my pulse pounds, I can taste a hint of oil in the air, and am perfumed by four-stroke exhaust. Afterwards, I can still smell his heady scent on my hands, my hair styled by helmet and sweat exudes the fragrance of the wind. If I could, I would lay next to him, caressing him in the afterglow, running hands over smooth lines, even his flaws seem as perfection in my eyes. Oh the bliss. Oh the delicious delirium.