The Ducati.

<BODY BGCOLOR="#000000" TEXT="#F7F7FF" LINK="#FFFFFF" ALINK="#000400" VLINK="#FFFFFF"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#CC3300" FACE="Arial" ><B>Starved's Fantasy</B></FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#FFCC99" FACE="Arial" >   </FONT> |   <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Starveds Fantasy"><U><B>home</B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id19.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Elevator."><U>The Elevator.</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id20.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Jacuzzi"><U>The Jacuzzi</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id21.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="California Coast"><U>California Coast</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id22.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Crowne"><U>The Crowne</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id23.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Heartbreaker"><U>The Heartbreaker</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id30.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Gettin My Hair Done"><U>Gettin' My Hair Done</U></A>   |   <B>The Ducati.</B>   |   <A HREF="id32.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Park"><U>The Park</U></A></div> <div> <IMG SRC="04758020.png" border=0 width="600" height="2" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> <I>The Ducati.</I></div> <div> <I><B>I know just what I want to get him for his birthday </B></I><I><B>next </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>month...a Ducati. A Ducati is an Italian Motorcycle. My </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>brother has wanted </B></I><I><B>one as long as I can remember. When we </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>were kids, he was always zooming around on his imaginary </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>motorcycle. Now that I'm out of college, and have a little </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>money. I want to do this for him. Even though he was my </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>little brother, he was always there for me. He would hold my </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>hand after a bad date, or hit me on the head when I said </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>something crazy. Most importantly, he always thought I could </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>do anything. I searched the online want ads. Until I found </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>just the right bike. A Black Ducati 900SS. I called the number </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>listed, a man answered after several rings. "Hello." "Hi, my </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>name is Danielle Donovan, I'm calling about the Ducati </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>motorcycle. Is it still available?" "Yes I've still got it." "Can </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>you tell me about it?" "Well, I'm really busy right now. Can </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>I email the specs and a picture to you? And talk with you </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>after you've had a chance to look at it?" His voice gave me </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>chills, so deep and smooth, I can tell he's a brother. I gave </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>him my email address. After our initial conversation, we </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>started exchanging emails, and talking on the phone almost </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>daily. He really seems like a nice guy, kind of serious..but </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>nice. He told me that he has several other motorcycles for </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>sale. He calls them his babies. He also told me that he's a </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>painter. And no, I'm not talking about a house painter, an </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>artist...like Picasso. He's not doing it professionally yet, but </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>he does have dreams. I can't believe that I actually told him </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>about my writing. I write....Ummm..ummm well...erotic </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>fantasies, and I post them on the internet. I haven't told </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>many people about this side of me. Mainly, because I don't </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>want the questions, or the looks about writing dirty stories. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>He asked for the site address and said that he'd like to read </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>them. After giving him the address, regret settled in. I guess </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>I'm too shy for someone to actually read my inner most </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>sexual fantasies and then have to look them in the eye. He </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>went to the site, and read ALL of my stories. HE LOVED </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>THEM!. A part of me wonders if they excited him. If he felt </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>the stirrings of passion building. I wonder what he looks like. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>My imagination has started to run wild. We have decided to </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>meet on Thursday, at his home. Before we started talking, I </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>didn't think twice about going to his home to look at the </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>bike, but now I don't know. We've become friends, and </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>we've talked about everything, and I do mean everything. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>I wanted to make sure that I wasn't getting in over my head, </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>so I emailed my thoughts to him. </B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>Eric, </B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>After talking with you so many times, I'm </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>sure that I'm stating the obvious. Just bear </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>with me. I am coming to your home to look </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>at the motorcycles that you have for sale. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>You've asked me to read one of my fantasies </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>to you. I've agreed, but I don't want there </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>to be any misconceptions about our meeting. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>I enjoy your words, and your thoughts. I </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>have no preconceived notions as to where </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>this will lead, and I do not like pressure. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>I don't want my coming to your home to </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>be misconstrued as an invitation for sexual </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>advances.</B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>Danni</B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>He responded quickly, and rather curtly. </B></I></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I><B>Danni, </B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>Your email took me totally off guard. The </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>things that you stated WERE obvious to me. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>If you are feeling uncomfortable, I can bring </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>the Ducati to a restaurant, or anyplace that </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>you choose. I thought that we could talk in </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>a nice quiet setting, and my home is ideal. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>Which ever you prefer is fine. </B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>Eric</B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>I decided to phone him, this thing was getting out of hand. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>After talking with him, we both decided that it just made </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>more sense to meet at his house. This way, I could take a </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>look at the other bikes. I hope my instincts are right about </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>him. I don't think he's dangerous, but you never know. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>Somehow the motorcycle, has become secondary. He gave </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>me his address, and we are scheduled to meet at 4:30pm. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>As I pull up to his address, I see a BAD motorcycle. It's </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>a black Ducati, with lots of chrome. From the pictures I've </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>received, I know this isn't the motorcycle that I'm here to </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>see. This must be what he's riding....mmm nice. As I approach </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>the door, it opens. I find myself staring at a very handsome </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>man. He's just under 6ft, chocolate skin, goatee, with a great </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>smile. He has on a smock, with little bits of paint all over it. Underneath, I see black slack, and a grey silk turtleneck. He </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>takes a step toward me, taking my hands in his. "I'm really </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>glad that you made it. Please come in. Make yourself at home. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>Let me clean up, and I'll be right with you". I stepped into </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>his living room, enjoying the roominess, I immediately </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>gravitate toward the fireplace. The fire is burning bright, and </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>soft jazz fills the room. When he returns, the smock has </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>been removed, and he is drying his hands. I make a </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>conscious effort to not stare at his chest. I can see the </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>impression of his chest through his turtleneck. My hands </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>are itching to touch the spot in the center of his chest. My </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>eyes scan across the room, and I notice several beautiful </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>paintings. After closer inspection, I see his name signed at </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>the bottom. "These are really good. I mean REALLY GOOD. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>Do you have more throughout the house, or in storage?" </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>"Well I do have a few sprinkled here and there. Would you </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>like to see them?" "Definitely." We start the tour with the </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>master bedroom. It exudes masculinity. His bed is huge, the </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>kind that says "come play on me". I notice a huge painting </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>of a man and a woman, embracing over the bed. I would love </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>a print of that. Looking over the room, I notice a chaise </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>lounge. I've always love them. I sit on it for just a few minutes, enjoying the view of his pool. I peek into the bathroom, </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>nice and big. Now the tour takes us upstairs. I must admit </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>the hairs on the back of my neck are starting to rise. I'm </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>getting a little uneasy. I guess, I'm afraid that he might be </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>having some of the thoughts that I've been having since I walked </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>through his door. As I see room after room, and painting after painting. I'm impressed, and at ease. He has a nice friendly </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>quality about him. The last stop on the tour was the Garage. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>"Now, here are my babies. I know this is strange, but let me </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>tell you their names. First there is Samson, my Harley fatboy. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>He was the first motorcycle that I ever owned. Next, we have </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>my girls, the Black Ducati is Talia, the blue BMW is Pandora </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>and the fire-red BMW is Natalia." "Pandora?" I ask. "Yes, I </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>never know what I'll get from her until I open her up. She </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>always surprises me..." He said..smiling. "Now my powerhouses, </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>The Harley is Napoleon, he gets attention where every he goes. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>The bright red Ducati is Donato, it means gift in Italian, and </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>that's what it was a gift. Samson and Donato are the only ones </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>that I'll never sell. Bruno is the Black Ducati out front, he is </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>definitely my current favorite. The ones that are for sale are </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>Napoleon, Talia, and Natalia. Napoleon is a 1998, fatboy </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>95-anniversary edition, Talia is a 1998 Ducati 900SS, the one </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>that you were interested in. Natalia is 1997 BMW R1100 RT, </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>fast as hell, with great control. So what do you think?" As I </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>stood looking at these beautiful machines, I was blown away. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>I thought the BMW was tha' bomb, but I know Michael would </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>really enjoy the Ducati. "I really like them all, but I guess I'll </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>have to stick with the Ducati" "Would you like to go for a ride?" </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>mmm girlfriends you know what I was thinking right? Ride? Hell </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>Yes! And we both knew what kind of a ride I wanted. I look </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>down at my black dress and heels, I shake my head. "mmm </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>well not right now, I'm really not dressed for it. But I will </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>want to take her out before I buy her". "That's fine". "What </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>do I need to do to hold it, for a few days?" "No problem, </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>I'm not in that big a rush to sell her, so I'll hold her for a </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>week for you" "Great. That will give me enough time to get my </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>brother here, so he can take a look at her". As we stepped back </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>into his living room, he directs me to the sofa. "Are you ready </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>to read to me?" As I look into his eyes..I knew the moment of </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>truth was upon me. In my mind, I'm thinking, I can't do this. "If you're ready, so am I" I answer. That's me, all bravado. "It's </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>called THE HEARTBREAKER</B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>..I relax, as I listen to the pitter-patter of the raindrops </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>being tossed against my bedroom window. As I lay, </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>in the glow of a single candle, the shadows from the </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>moonlight dance across my bed..." </B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>I watch him, as I read, enjoying his expressions, the way he </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>holds his lips while he's concentrating. After I completed the </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>fantasy, all that could be heard, was the crackling of the fire. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>"That was really nice. I really like how you ended it" </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>"Thank you." was all I could say. The mood is a little warmer, </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>but still light. No pressure, just 2 friends talking. "Can I </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>paint you?" "I'd like that." As I look up at his clock, I realize </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>that I've been here for almost 2 hours. "Eric, I really have </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>to go." "I understand. When will I hear from you?" "Within </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>the next few days" As he escorts me outside, we embrace. It </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>was nice. If we had been inside, I would have wanted more. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>I must admit, I was a little disappointed, but I did set the </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>ground rules. As I drove away, I think "mmm a new fantasy…a honorable man…I will definitely have to call him again SOON. </B></I></div> <div> <I><B>I'd like to meet him again, with no rules. </B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>He owes me a ride....</B></I><I><B> </B></I></div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> 03/31/2001</div> <bR> </BODY>