On a short vacation, I am riding my Harley on a deserted stretch of road, enjoying the beautiful day, getting lost in my thoughts. I notice a bike parked off the shoulder and slow to see if the rider is around. I see no one, and continue my ride. A short distance ahead I see you walking alongside the road. I can tell you are the missing rider by your leathers. The way they fit your body sends a chill up my spine.
I slow, and as I do you turn and stop walking. I come to a stop just behind you and ask if you need help. A sheepish grin tells me what I needed to know... you're out of gas. I offer two solutions to the problem. I can go to the nearest town, get a can of gas and return, or you can ride bitch. You laugh, and I feel my pussy clench... I love your voice. I can tell by the way you carry yourself, your slight arrogance, confidence and the look in your eyes, that you like control. The sub in me is instantly attracted. I wonder if you can see it.
You tell me you will wait by your bike while I fetch the fuel, hand me a few bucks and off I go, promising to return as quickly as possible. It takes about 30 minutes, and I return. You put the fuel in the tank, and make sure your bike starts. You tell me that while I was gone you looked around and that there is a great view from across the grassy area where we are. I am a little apprehensive, you are, after all, a stranger. But for whatever reason, I shove my unease to the back of my mind. There is nothing about you that makes me feel that I am in any true danger.