The people that hang out on youtube stream chatrooms are 100% bots. I refuse to believe otherwise. They legit communicate as if they are moderately complex rpg NPC characters.
Nasty people. I avoid them whenever I can.
Talk to us instead. Visit my site at www.supergreatadditivebicyclekitchenware4free.com
This link took me to a Time Warner Cable search where the first result was "Bike porn" on Pornhub. It disappeared from the results the next time I tried it.
H-how would that work?
The supple polymer flexed under his rough hands as he kneaded the delicate surface of the bike's handlegrips, each motion eliciting the barely perceptible cry of skin sliding against the cool, hard rubber. Slowly, gently, he mounted the bike- positioning his body over the elegant frame and lowering himself to take best advantage of all that it had to offer. The soft leather of the seat cupped towards him as he positioned his body; inviting him, beckoning him, calling him to action. Calling him to ride.
Anticipation flaring within him, breath already quickened by a yearning for deeper motion. He shifted back, settling himself to the pedals, enjoying the enticing half-resistance they offered when at rest, then pushed forward in smooth action. The world spun into motion. Soft and silken sounds were constant as the bike's well lubricated chain was repeatedly and fully penetrated by the steely spokes of the sprocket, harsher and more longing sounds intermittent as the man's breath rose to match his exertions and gave power to his ever increasing speed. The moaning rising up from the whirling sprocket reached its peak, the shear speed of the lubricated penetrations giving voice to ardent cry- and yet the speed continued to rise, driven by the ceaseless pumping of the man's legs against the bike's cupped pedals.
Time lost its meaning as the bike's husky moan continued, accompanied by the man's paced breathing and tireless rhythm. Sweat slicked his brow, dripping down onto the bike's lithe frame as they moved together, marking them both with the same fluids. The purity of the moment, the blaze of motion, the brightness of his salt on bike's chrome, all drove the man as he climbed the final hill- maintaining speed before plunging down into a rush that they both knew meant the end. Wind rose as a roar as he finished peddling, letting the momentum of the moment and the grade of the hill carry the bike into furious climax that only slowed as the hill abated and the two came to rest together.
Even in stillness, the man stayed locked with the bike, his breath fogging the chrome as he collected himself with head bent between the luscious curves between the bike's handlebars. A few errant drops of sweat mixed between them, a reminder of what they'd done together. After an eternity in the afterglow, the man rose from the bike and gave the pleasurable leather of the bike's seat a final playful squeeze. He had work, but he'd be back in a few hours- and then it would be time to do it all again.
Always remember to use GreenTree urban rental bikes for your travel needs, it's just 50 cents for a ride you won't forget.