A New Day, A New You part 8 - Sex Stories

A New Day, A New You part 8

... me with cold fire in his voice. My phone call ended I’m back out the door passing Richard as I head to my vehicle. Stores don’t really understand what I’m looking for until I track down a few places that deal in more durable clothing. The two pairs of jeans I get are loose but fit well and the leather vest and gloves help a bit. When I try on a few shirts I see a couple of the locals note my tattoo and one or two give me a double take. I get my new clothes and figure I’ll go shirtless with the vest if possible and head back to my room. I’ve never waited to get into a fight before but most of my day I keep my brain distracted by doing class work and avoiding questions about what is bothering me. It’s Friday afternoon and I’m sitting in my room when I hear a pounding on the door in the living room. I step out in my new clothes, jeans, chain belt, construction boots, leather vest, sunglasses and my unkempt brown hair covered by a red rag. I pull the door open to see Jamal standing there. “Holy shit man you look scary as fuck,” Jamal informs me stepping in dress a hell of a lot better than I am. “You’re backing me up dressed like this,” I ask pointing out the silk shirt and slacks. “I’m a lover not a fighter,” He jokes. “You’re driving your car, I’ll have a ride but it looks like it’s just you and me tonight,” I state as nobody I asked to show is showing. “I’m going,” Richard says stepping out from his room in a tight t shirt and jeans. “I forgot I asked you since you didn’t say ...

... whether you would come or not,” I tell him a little aggressive. “Hey we’re friends and I don’t care if you forgot asking, I remember you asked me and I plan to be there for a change instead of leaving you hanging,” Richard states turning up his own anger. “Good, it’s about time we actually did something that means shit,” I state and he nods in agreement. Yeah we’re friends but looks like tonight we find out how real it is. I’ll take anyone I can honestly but at least Richard can fight. I step out of the dorm room with my two compatriots in tow as we head out to the parking lot. As dramatic as it starts there is nothing for it until about fifteen minutes when Kit comes up on her bike and stops in the middle of the lane. “Stuart hop on,” Kit yells at me and I look to my friends and Jamal nods leading Richard to his car,” Better keep up boys.” I hop on the back and Kit shows me where my hands allowed to roam before pulling away on her heavy motorcycle. Guy driving was insane but I had a door and didn’t see the ground if I looked down, now I can and I’m holding onto Kit a little tighter than I should as she stops and reminds me she needs to breathe to drive. We continue down the road and out to a park, a kind of isolated and abandoned park that has not a couple, hell not even a few. Try dozens of large metal bikes with more than a small amount of leather clad bikers roaming around. There is loud music and a few speed bike groups but most of this is the traditional biker fare and ...