His bike gleamed as he rounded the corner. Polished, spotless, brutish… matching the rider. He was already grinning broadly before he even arrived a... the drive. He looked kind of boyish, devilish, full of hell, as she anxiously stood outside the door watching his every move and expert handling of that big bike. He pulled in, pulled up, leaned the heft of heavy metal over to the side and gracefully dismounted, all in one liquid motion, as was her impression at that moment. "Liquid motion", she. Those of you that have read African Adventure will notice a significant passage of time between that story and this one. There is another story that comes between these two and deals in detail with events that are alluded to or briefly referenced in this story. I have elected not to publish that particular story on Literotica because it’s mostly adventure. Frankly, there’s far too little sex to interest most Literotica readers. The story was largely character development for Sara, growing her. More

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