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A motorcycle
pulled up beside me
as I walked along
the Pacific Coast Highway.

“Want a ride?”
cooed a sweet, sexy voice.
“Sure,” I said.
I swung my leg over
I don’t mind riding bitch.

I slid my fingers
over her perfect hips
and joined them
over warm, toned abs.

The ocean breeze
caressed our faces;
my fingers
caressed as well.

We stopped
to watch the sunset.
Foaming waves lapped
our naked feet.
Gulls swooped
and squawked.

Our hands met,
I grasped her hair.
Her red, expectant lips
found mine.
The rest of her body
followed.

 

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