Sedona Heat

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A ride through the desert turns hot and steamy.
1.3k words
3.86
21.5k
2

Part 1 of the 7 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 03/31/2009
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KdDiva
KdDiva
4 Followers

As I pull out of the Avis parking lot I lowered the top. What an extravagance! A brand new Ford Mustang, black on black, and hot as hell! I figured this was as close to riding my motorcycle through this strange countryside as I was likely to get. The drive from Phoenix to Sedona was about 2 hours give or take a cactus or two and boring but there's no mistaking the vivid red and orange mountains that rise out of the desert and I couldn't wait to get there. I enjoyed the feel of the sun on my bare shoulders, yes the tank top and shorts had definitely been a good idea, great thing about a convertible you can be transporting and tanning at the same time!

My spirits were soaring as I turned the radio all the way up and sang at the top of my lungs just cruising along all alone on that stretch of highway. At first I thought it was just a plant or tree off in the distance, waving and rippling in the arid heat but as I got closer I saw it was a lone biker out in the middle of nowhere leaning up against his hog. Stop or don't stop? I asked myself. I had seen the signs warning against picking up hitch hikers because there was a state prison very nearby so again I asked... stop or don't stop. It was hot, the desert sun was blistering and were at least an hour to the nearest town that I knew of so I had to stop... after all it was the right thing to do.

His white tank top was soaked and sticking to his tight abs and taut chest but his face seemed fresh despite the heat as he looked up. His hair was thick and pulled back in a long ponytail with glittering flecks of silver despite his youthful appearance. His eyes were blue, sky blue almost silver near the pupils and seemed out of place against his golden skin. He was obviously Native American and probably lived on the Navajo Reservation that made up this area of Arizona.

"Hey" I said as I pulled to a stop "Need some help?" you laughed and then stepped away from your bike. I didn't put the car in park, I wanted to be able to split ASAP should something go down.

"Yeah, but you know, you really shouldn't be stopping out here." your voice was deep and distinctly sexy, it reminded me of Sam Elliot in "Road House"

"Well, are you gonna kill me or something?" I asked lightly and you laughed again, that sexy, throaty laugh and then mine joined yours.

"No, I promise I won't kill your or something."

"Well, ok, now that we've gotten that out of the way, my names Katie and I'm heading towards Sedona can I give you a lift somewhere? I'd use this but I haven't had a signal since I left Phoenix." I held up my (thankfully) useless cell phone as I slid the stang into park and rose to sit on the door.

There was an aura about you that made me feel at ease and I allowed my naughty mind to wander. I shifted my legs pressing them wider to get a more secure placement of my rump on the door and I noticed that you noticed and that made me hot. I took a moment to stretch reaching up to the sky my full breast pressing against the tight cotton top. I saw you steal a glance at my wanton display and that kick started my naughty motor. Enjoying your eyes on me I kept my arch as I ran my fingers through my short auburn curls and then returned to a more composed position lest I become a filthy whore and rape you where you stood.

"So, what's your name or should I just be happy you said you wouldn't kill me?" you laughed again

"It's Hawk, ma'am, pleasure to meet you; quite fortuitous for me given my current predicament." With each word you said I fell under the spell of your sound. You stretched a long thick arm extending your hand out to me. I stood up, crossed over to the passenger side and while standing in the seat I was just above your eye level and took your large hand in mine in a firm shake. Did you feel that spark? Sliding out of the car I walked over to the bike. It was a true chopper, forks extended beyond the legal limit, shining chrome, and a dusty red color that blended perfectly with the colors of Sedona I love so much.

"She's a sweet panhead, Hawk" I whistled "Build her yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am" I didn't miss the surprised look on your face

"What year? '65 '66? " I knelt down to take a look at this beautifully restored antique Harley Davidson Panhead FHL with electric start.

You leaned over the bike and pointed down to the bottom of the tank where an inscription read "June 10, 1965 Niya-Yiya"

"You sure know a lot about bikes for a girl" you said folding your arms along the seat taking advantage of the ample cleavage you had from that vantage point

"Yeah, weird I know, but I grew up watching my brother build dirt bikes, Harleys, dune buggies and the like. I've got a '67 Triumph Trophy myself."

I ran my finger along the inscription and asked gently "What's it mean?" you cleared your throat and turned your strong face towards the brilliant sun. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." I said rising quickly and where your position had afforded a great view of my chest you were now eye level with my belly button. I leaned forward into the bike my left breast briefly making contact with your cheek as you stood.

"No, it's ok," clearing your throat again "It's Navajo and roughly translated it means: I came, he went." I looked up to see that you'd turned and were facing me once again and stepped closer to the bike... closer to me... I could feel the heat radiating from your body.

I didn't voice the next question but was rewarded when you spoke quietly "That's the day I was born and the day my father died." You swallowed "Never knew him, obviously, but from the time I can remember I was always fascinated with bikes. We didn't have much back then but my mom always fed my love of motorcycles. On my sixteenth birthday she took me out back to the old shed, no one had been in there for years and I was certain the locks would be rusted solid but the door opened without a sound. Dust was flying through the air, dancing in the sun rays breaking through the partially boarded window. There in the middle of the room was what could only be a motorcycle frame covered with an old tarp. Without a word she uncovered the bike slowly. She was all in parts and no motor but she was beautiful to me. She said it was my father's and he got it the day I was born... he wanted to build it with me. What she meant by "Got It" was that he'd worked for someone who knew someone and instead of paying him with cash so we could buy food, the jackass gave him parts he stole from work." You quickly turned away bringing your hand to the back of your neck surprised that you'd actually said that. "Sure is hot" was all you could manage at the moment.

"She's a beauty Hawk you've obviously put a lot of time and effort into her, your dad would be proud." Tapping the seat twice I added "So if you built her why can't you fix her?"

"Well, if I could piss gasoline I would have done that already." We both roared with laughter.

KdDiva
KdDiva
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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 15 years ago
A great start for a promising story.

I'll be happy when you finish it. So far, it shows a lot of attention has been paid to the art of writing. Thank you and please continue.

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