-Hell on High Heels (She's got 8" stilettos and she isn't afraid to use them!)

by Bear

In the early morning hours

the almost silent shift

of a tight leather mini

is nearly missed

with an inaudible sigh.

Heads turn

to watch

the statuesque


and marvel

at the careful balance

between the terror

of falling

and the confidence of knowing

she won't.

It's the subtle swish of

hide against

the fishnets

that ratchets

the tension of the moment -

so minute,

it becomes ingrained


into the psyche.

Every step

becomes a moment

forever remembered

as eyes travel

from the rough stone edges,

wandering left,

then right...

high heels never slipping

on the uneven ground.

The curve of the ankle

is where I linger -


by the simple

beauty of the moment

inches away from the ground.


the gaze shifts

ever upwards -

gliding past

smooth calves,

to strong thighs -

all lovingly wrapped

in the softest

of dark silks.

An inner purr begins,

as the vision becomes clear -

sleek curves

and strength --

barely restrained

in a shiny

new jacket.

As the day peeks

over the horizon,

the sunlight plays

across black shades,

and reflects from

the bright chrome

that surrounds us.

Even as I let go on the throttle,

and ease onto harsh pavement,

I can feel both arms

and thighs


around me -

carefully shifting

the rider (and bike)

into a higher gear

even as we ride

into the sunrise.


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