Black beauty on wheels
Perfection between my thighs
High speed ecstasy.
Inspired by my first ride on my road bike last night. I forget how good that bike feels. It just fits me perfectly and to pedal it, even up hills, is almost effortless. Really, folks, you think I’m fast? It’s all my bike. Going up Truxell Road on Black Beauty was much, much easier than slogging it on the Beast. I can’t even explain it. Don’t get me wrong; hills are still painful. It just feels like my road bike allows me to put the effort where it’s needed in getting up the hill rather than weighting me down. I’m forever devoted to road bikes.
It’s so weird how as soon as I got on the Beauty, everything felt right. It was literally like a high. I couldn’t stop focusing on how everything just clicked. Maybe the sexual suggestion in the poem is because the bike and I seem to gel together in perfect symmetry like lifelong lovers.
Okay. I think I need to get a life now.