I think I'm falling for a skinhead. It's a dirty fling, I tell myself. One where I'm forced to stay with a hot guy, clean up his and his gang's s**t, and have nasty s*x with him. Sounds sick when I think of it that way. The kind of sick that turns me on.
I'm beginning to enjoy riding on the back of his bike too. It's strange the things I think of while sitting behind him with my arms around his waist and my breasts pushing into his back. It's a sense of freedom I've never had before, and as stupid as it seems, I feel safe.
We have helmets on again and it's not quite as wonderful as the freedom of going without one that I had the first time I rode with Dagger. Safety first. That's a joke. I've never played it safe in my life and now that I'm more comfortable on the bike, I want my hair bl
