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The beast roared to life between her legs and Eve grinned to herself. A mass of aluminum, steel, and chrome churned and frothed at the lips ready to take off down the road. Eve pulled the throttle and the motorcycle responded with a low guttural yell. She checked her mirrors quickly and looked out onto the road. Empty. Deserted. Open. Waiting for her. Another grin crossed her face. She dropped the clutch and the animal took off, pulling away from her like a runaway steed. She gripped the handlebars tightly, pulled in the clutch and clicked up one gear, and then another and another. In no time at all she was nearly flying. Heaven had a competitor, and it was riding.

 

Eve sometimes thought she was cursed with her frame. She was taller than average, thin, and lanky. Her limbs felt out of place and out of proportion. She felt herself the target of attention and it wasn’t the type of attention a woman would like to receive. It was the kind any out of the norm human gets. You’re different. You’re weird. I must stare at you to see how the hell you even function you mutant. Eve had a horrendous time finding clothes that fit. Nothing hugged her curves or her lines correctly. Nothing fit right. Nothing looked right. She always felt awkward, and out of place. The focal point of snide remarks and sniggers. She was the butt of many a joke and the saving grace of many a depressed girl. “Well at least I don’t look as beastly as Eve.” one might say, well within earshot.

 

But all of that didn’t matter now. Her legs wrapped around this metal machine she was at home. No little girls bike for her. No waiting for some leather clad, beer guzzling grunter of a man to ask her to ride on the back. No sissy bars for her. She ran the throttle. She decided which way to go. And her bigger than average frame allowed her to do it in the meanest, nastiest, most beautiful maniacal machines possible.

 

The rush of the wind roared in her ears now. It’s constant push kept her ever mindful of the power she held between her legs. It was, as much as Eve didn’t want to admit it, quite erotic. The thrill of the speed, the sound of the motorcycle, it’s varying vibrations tuned to her touch. If this machine could take human form Eve would have had her way with it. She giggled to herself at the thought, before biting her lip a little and thinking gloriously dirty thoughts.

 

As she came up to a chicane her mind wandered and imagined titillating scenarios only possible in fantasy and fiction. Her machine growing metal arms and legs as she held on to it. It rearing up, making her hold on for dear life. The adrenaline coursed through her and she pulled the throttle again. The metal man in her mind taking complete form now bending her to his will. Taking her where he wanted to go. She felt herself relinquishing control to him. His power. His beastly and delicious power. She wanted him to savage her. To show her a world of all consuming lust and frivolity. She wanted to be taken. To be used for all the right reasons. She could imagine it so freely in her mind, shuddering and convulsing under the weight and power of her metal man. His strength never subsiding, he would take her screaming into orgasmic bliss. Her body becoming a cocoon of desire for him. She could feel herself melting away into his metal beastly passion. His mechanistic precision so perfect, so astute, so deliciously tuned to her needs. She could feel herself lost in his embrace, flying, floating in a wave of orgasmic bliss.

 

She closed her eyes and absorbed the warmth of his heavy metal body. She took in a deep breath, and the thought was gone. All was black. Eve slipped away. A smile on her face.

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