Big Boobs on Pavement

"How'd that look?" she asked, though it sounded more like a demand. The singular question came only after a string of expletive-laced, embarrassment-fueled, rage-disguised yelps, had relieved some of the pent up tension. 

"Painful" was the response. Simple and inadequate as it was, in that instant, painful was the only thing he could think to say.

"Alright, good answer. I can accept that. Anything but lame. It would have been a waste of a good crash if you had said lame."

Little did she know that for anyone else the answer would most certainly have been lame. But, she was his girl and, after all, this pre-Valentine's Day ride was his idea. Showing off, riding with no hands. Riding slow enough for a gust of wind to upset everything. First the swerve to the right when the wind pushed that direction, then the counter-shift of weight back to the left. When the feet came off the pedals, knees locking her legs diagonally straight out from her body, he knew what was coming. Down she went, on her side then rolling onto her belly, those big boobs pressed down onto the hot asphalt.

It really was pretty lame, as far as crashes go. He almost laughed, but he wouldn't admit it until later. Later she would be able to laugh about it too. Not now though. As she angrily snatched the proffered water bottles he had picked up, the warning had flashed through his mind - Not Now. And so he stood by, silently, unsure if words would add fuel to the fire he saw burning in her eyes. Her sunglasses still in the gravel beside the path.

That's about the time I came along, stitching together a bit of story from the evidence I saw scattered about.


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