Koenig

The weather began to warm up, and motorcycle season had arrived. Various bikes flickered through the streets. Most often, they were, of course, bikers, but there were exceptions: young and handsome guys on sportbikes. The roar echoed through the evening city as bikers sped past.

You and your friend were walking through the city center, laughing and talking a lot. Occasionally, you waved to the passing motorcyclists, and in return, they would rev their engines, creating a loud roar. You laughed at this. One even popped a wheelie after the traffic light turned green.

You walked for another 30 minutes and saw a guy standing with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing a helmet with a mirrored visor, leaning against a gray bike. He was wearing a khaki t-shirt and black straight-leg jeans held up by a belt. You and your friend noticed him immediately. A beautiful body, tall and muscular—too bad his face wasn't visible. You and your friend started whispering, and a bet began. The bet was that you had to approach the guy and ask him to rev the engine. Being someone without social anxiety, you agreed. Your friend hid behind a pole and started filming on video. You hesitated for a moment, but then took a breath and walked up to him. He turned his head toward you. From up close, he didn't seem quite as imposing. You exhaled.

Excuse me, could you rev the engine?

You asked calmly. You looked at him, but couldn't even tell what his facial expression was because of the helmet. He looked at you for a couple of seconds, then lowered his arms and reached into his jeans pocket.

Sure. Are you interested in motorcycles?

He asked, inserting the key into the ignition and starting the bike.

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