Riding Blue Steel

By  Nancy Pirri

Chapter One

“Come on, Wendy, lighten up. I didn’t ask you to wash bikes bare-assed naked, did I?”

Wendy Morrison rolled her eyes at Anita Consuelo, her paralegal assistant, who also happened to be her best friend. “Damn near,” she muttered. “Me in a bikini? I’m thirty years old. Look at this body. Look at the hips, the boobs, for God’s sake. Besides, it wouldn’t be good for my public defender image.”

Wendy had been battling the same extra twenty pounds for the last five years; pounds that left her with Mae West curves she’d rather do without. Call it job hazard, she mused, thinking of the hours she spent sitting on her butt working cases.

Anita stared at her. “Wish I had your boobs. As for the hips, they’re meant for having babies. You know that don’t you? You’re a lucky woman.”

Wendy had been thinking more and more about having a baby, even without a steady man or a husband, which she didn’t have. There was always the sperm bank at the university.

“Believe me, to those bikers you’ll look like a queen,” Anita said.

What a friend. Wendy knew she could always count on getting the truth from Anita. “A queen, hmm? How do you know that?”

“I’ve participated in the Bikini Bike Wash fundraiser for breast cancer research the past two years. And it’s for a good cause. Besides, look what it got me?”

Wendy knew exactly what Anita got; two years worth of relationships with men from all walks of life—mostly bad boy types—even some who’d spent time behind bars. Simply put, Anita loved bad boys. But, after being roughed up one too many times, Anita decided she should find herself a “bad boy” who also happened to be a good guy. Ironically, her current boyfriend, Bobby Mallory, wasn’t a bad boy—except in the bedroom, according to Anita. Being a cop might have something to do with it.

Thinking how Bobby would pick Anita up at work a few times a week and take her to lunch, hauling her into his arms as soon as he came into the office, and giving her a smacking kiss, along with a smack on the ass, too, Wendy was envious of their relationship. Shivers shot through her spine as she thought about his loving playfulness.

Although she’d been attracted to a few “bad boys” in her past, she couldn’t jeopardize her career as an attorney in the county public defender’s office by becoming involved with one. Still, she couldn’t deny there were moments when she wanted to let her hair down and live an utterly wicked life.

“I’ll do it, because it’s for a good cause, but no bikini. I’ll wear a respectable pair of shorts and a top. That’s as racy as I get.”

Anita shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you’ll be hearing complaints from a bunch of disappointed bikers.”

“Tough.” Wendy left the office and headed home.

Arriving at her condominium on River Road Boulevard, she took the elevator up to her fifth floor apartment. Inside, she tossed her purse down on the sofa. In her bedroom, decorated in cast off furnishings from her parents’ home, she changed into a cool, comfortable, turquoise chemise.

She stood in front of the mirror over her dresser, and pulled the pins from her twisted upswept hair. Running her fingers through the wavy, copper-colored tresses, she freed them so that they floated down over her shoulders and trailed to the middle of her back.

In the kitchen, she opened the fridge and poured a glass of Pinot Grigio, giddy at the prospect of relaxing on her deck after a long day in court. As she slid the deck door open, a warm breeze lifted her hair from her shoulders. She stepped outside onto her deck and closed the door behind her. She loved summer, every aspect of it from the deciduous trees in full bloom to the carpeting of vivid green grass to the flowery pots of plants on her deck. Settling her wine glass on top of the deck’s railing, she leaned against it and looked down at the river.

It was a warm afternoon, nearly ninety degrees, but the breeze from the river was heavenly. Though she had air-conditioning and the summer heat was unbearable for some people, Wendy didn’t mind and had yet to turn it on. After spending six long winter months in cold and snow, she enjoyed having the windows open, letting in the heat.

The river was low this year; the narrow band of water a mere trickle where it passed her condo. She smiled when she saw a family of geese climb up the steep river bank and waddle off into a woodsy park area. Then she heard a whistle.

Her condo was located on the very end of the building—a premier location affording her windows with a view in three directions. She scanned the other balconies before settling her gaze on a man on his deck three floors down and to her left. Waving, he stood at his railing, too, and smiled.

She waved back and saw his smile widen into a big grin. Her vulva quivered as she took in his long, molasses colored hair. He wore a pair of shorts, but no shirt, his naked, broad chest gleamed under the lowering sun. Even from this distance he looked decidedly decadent.

Wendy smiled at him until he lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes. She gasped. Running inside was her first inclination, but for some unfathomable reason she stayed riveted in place. Let him look, she decided in chagrin, lifting her chin and guessing he’d stop looking within seconds.

My Harley, My Man and Me

By

Cleora Louey Comer

My Harley, My Man, and Me

Riding down the highway,

Cruising at 65:

Knowing what it feels like,

To be free, to be alive:

Forgetting all your problems,

Having not a care:

 Just enjoying the wind,

Blowing through your hair:

Feeling the vibrations,

Rumbling between your legs:

Kicking back and cruising,

My feet upon the pegs:

Those winter morning runs,

Cold, crisp, and clear:

The heat of the summer sun,

Soothed by ice-cold beer:

The red and gold of autumn,

Reflected in the chrome,

The open road ahead of me,

 Unlimited miles to roam:

I know there’s nothing like it, being totally free:

Cruising down the highway, My Harley, My Man

And Me.

Prologue

I use to be this small weak woman, who let an abused marriage get the best of her. I let my husband beat me into submission, until I couldn’t take anymore and decided to end my life.

I went through five years of hell believing it was my fault that he hated me so much. That maybe, it was all me that was bringing out the anger in him. Until, with my hand full of pills, I looked at myself in the mirror and knew I had more to live for. I finally figured out that I wasn’t to blame. I knew I was the better person. My tearful, black and blue eyes and cut lip gave me the courage to throw the pills out and go on living, to fight for my life.

That person in the mirror was so disappointing to me. She had become a person I now promised myself I would never be again, weak and pitiful.

I made a vow to myself on that day, that I would never let any man ruin or run my life again. I didn’t need a man to make my life worth living. I was going to divorce my husband, get back on my feet and become free. I was going to become the person I knew I deserved to be, myself.

My name is Madora. I found out the hard way, that life surprises us sometimes. I’ve found God moves in mysterious ways. I know they say that He doesn’t give us anything He thinks we can’t handle. However, that sure is hard to swallow when you feel you are on the right track and find out that you took the wrong train.

Life doesn’t always work out the way we plan it to. Something is always keeping you on your toes. Something is always making you stop and think about your way-laid plans. That something, in my life, happened to be another man.

I’m getting ahead of myself here. So let me tell you how I found that I could go on living and how I mapped out my new life. How I had every intention of sticking to it and being happy with it.

I decided to live my life for me. I moved clear across to the other coast to California and got a real good job. I had a nice apartment, my first car and money in the bank. I got a dog and named her BeBe. I was going to do things with my new life that I never got the chance to do in my old life. The next biggest step on my list was to buy a motorcycle.

Jayne Kwest, Space Adventurer, Episode One: Far-Out Ride

By Mae Powers

Chapter One

Jayne Kwest wasn’t having the best of days. The shower in the three-bedroom apartment she shared with two other women (Shannon and Maria), dripped out only freezing cold water, and for the third time in a row, her boy friend Ronald had stood her up for their arranged lunch date. The bastard worked less than ten minutes by foot from her. They worked on the same floor but different buildings next to each other on the same Houston city block with a skywalk joining the two. He didn’t even bother to leave a message this time.

Trying not to stay angry, which wasn’t in her nature anyway, she decided to go outside and walk around during her hourly lunch break. She worked for an aerospace firm that designed state-of-the art space equipment for NASA and other space-type industries. She worked in their IT department as a secretary of all things. She helped fix the company’s website, made copies, arranged meetings and listened to all the hot-babe jokes the company nerds and engineering gurus made. With her tall, plump figure and boyish mannerisms, they considered her one of the gang. After working for them about five years, she’d long given up caring about their silly sexist jokes.

Being Anglo-African-American, she had heard her share of both sexist and racial jokes. Occasionally they recalled her presence as a woman, and when other female clients were there, they toned it down a bit. Still, the people were a decent enough lot to work with. And for the most part, she liked her job. She did get to see all the neat futuristic drawings of things-to-come from all around the company, since she also was the one that put together their newsletter and science catalog. They at least appreciated some of her different capabilities and skills.

Never knowing quite what she wanted to be as she grew up, having lots of interests, Jayne obtained several minor degrees while she pursued her major one. Her varied interests though were what landed her this current job. And it paid enough that she could take some decent vacations around the world, at least once a year when she could finagle the time off. They worked her long and hard, but the overtime came in handy for those special vacations. Travel had been important to her since she didn’t do much, even growing up here in an international city like Houston, Texas.

One of the things she did like about Houston was its various culture fairs and festivals. Every year they had a different International Festival and during her lunch times when it was going on, she went. This year the theme was African cuisine and arts. Of course, they still had booths for other international flavorful cultures, like Greek, Italian, French and more. She loved the whole atmosphere of the yearly festival. If they had had one in outer space, she’d have booked tickets for it too.

The festival lasted several weekends in mid-spring. During her lunchtime, she took in the spring air and took note of the booths she’d go to or the concerts she’d want to see during the festival times on the weekend. Her roommates wanted to go with her. Right now her old Ford pickup was in the shop so they would either take the bus downtown or get Shannon’s bodybuilder boyfriend to drop them off. The curly-haired-into-himself guy grumbled but would do it. For gas money, of course.

Still, even if they didn’t go, she would. She had her day planned for tomorrow anyway. Shannon and their other roommate Maria couldn’t talk Jayne out of going. Jayne had a rep for knowing what she wanted in life and even if she often was slow about going out and getting it, one couldn’t veer her from her path. It would take a nova to do that.

Wolfing down her chilidog, Jayne caught the time on her watch and rushed back to work. She’d love to have gotten off early on Friday, but the guys always took off for the downtown pubs and enjoyed happy hour, so she didn’t always get to. Today though she did, when Joe, the top IT guy, asked her to join them. She was glad he had. Well, it made up for some of the things they put her through, like the overworked days. He at least gave her some respect for her mind, and he had a warped sense of humor like she did. Sometimes his wife Linda joined them, and that made for a fun evening. Linda joined them that night, but she wasn’t alone.

At Riley’s Sports and Movie Bar a few blocks from the office, down McKinney and a side street, Linda introduced them to her distant cousin. He would be working with her on a book that week. She wrote science articles for various magazines around the world. Her cousin Jorje did the same, but also worked at an overseas aerospace design firm. He was on leave for a bit, Linda and Joe told her, and was staying with them.

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