I'm not bragging but as a biker I've had some hot biker babe ass atop my Harley--chicks with their size 2 or 4 Levi's so tight they could've been painted on. Camel toes galore. Not to mention the sexy halters, bare stomachs, chokers and enough leather on them to make a dead cow roll over in its grave.
I like my women thin but shapely. And there's nothing sexier to me than a pretty biker babe that dresses the part to the hilt and likes to show off her tight little ass. It's funny how biker chicks get a bad rap. These biker chicks are really just women who have jobs. They like bikes but most are secretaries, teachers, lawyers, accountants, nurses or whatever. They're not skanks. Okay, maybe some of the strippers.
I've talked to a few girlfriends in the past about some of the lop-sided fights I've witnessed. They all seem interested but admit that they'd rather get their teeth pulled than fight some cocky-ass high school girl. Even an average-sized girl. Most would be afraid to fight them. And they all admitted that some fat or ultra-big teen girl would probably tear the shreds out of them. Some even know Tae Bo or karate but that wouldn't matter, according to them.
There was this one hot biker babe named Bev. She had a twin sister Barb. Both were 28 and had pretty, long, auburn hair; and were thin. I'm talking 5'5" and 105 pounds thin.
Bev had the best ass I've ever seen. She liked to huddle close when we rode around on my bike. And I won't even talk about our intimate moments. But one thing about Bev was that she had never been in a fight before. This was about to change in a big way.
Bev was a little wild. She often wore these rebel flag bandanas or T-shirts with the rebel flag imprinted on them. She was a University of Texas graduate who happened to be in pharmaceutical sales. After we broke up I heard from her sister that she had gotten drunk and walked home from a bar alone. Crazy, I know. But at least she didn't drive. It was a three-mile hike.
The bar was downtown and Bev had to go through a mini ghetto area to get home. The problem was that she was covered to the hilt in bikerwear--tight jeans, leather, halter, frilly boots, etc. Other girls hate biker chicks but no one hates them more than black girls. I'll share some of these fights sometime. None of them ever turn out in the biker chick's favor. But enough said on that.
One big mistake Bev made was to walk through this Afro-American neighborhood wearing a halter top and rebel bandana. The halter top had a small Georgia flag on it as well. Bev might as well have sashayed around town calling all the girls the "N" word.
I'll tell you something about these black girls in that area. They are all tough as blazes. I used to play softball down there and had girlfriends go to games with me. More than one, biker chicks included, said some of these young girls asked them if they wanted to fight while in the stands. And this was without provocation.
Needless to say, and without too much pother, Bev was approached by a group of black high school girls. As her sister Barb told it, there were at least five of them. But it was the leader of the gang who cut off her path and said, "Hey you honky slut, whatch ya thank yur doin' prancin' around with that rebel flag on your head. You gotta a deathwish or somethin'?"
Naturally, the leader was also the biggest girl which is an understatement. She was downright huge, as wide as a barnyard door--with a lapping belly-and over six feet tall. From what Barb told me, the fat girl yanked the rebel bandana off Bev's head, threw it on the ground and stomped on it. She then spit on it.
Bev was drunk but also scared shitless. She made her biggest mistake when she tried to grab for the bandana after it was ripped off her head. Her hand tapped the girl's huge belly in the process and the girl took offense to it. She called Bev a "White Biker Whore" and immediately punched her in the gut, sending Bev to her knees. I would imagine Bev had the wind knocked out of her at this point as huge as the girl was. I don't think Bev remembered much after that. Afterall, how long could a 105-pound white woman stay conscious after taking a punch from a 400-pound black teenage girl in her bare mid-section. It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out.
Bev was beaten up pretty badly in her first fight, to say the least. She vaguely remembers the huge black girl holding her by the ankles upside down on a small bridge. And she remembers getting laughed at each time the behemoth girl socked her.
Bev was found shirtless and face-down--in just her jeans and boots--between the rails of some old railroad tracks. Fortunately, no trains passed by in the night or she would've been toast. The huge black high school girl had probably intended to kill her; and nearly had with just her fat fists. Bev had internal injuries, a broken nose and fractured ribs. Her face looked as if it had been put through a meat grinder. She still has scars from the fight and is now afraid to death to go out at night alone. She is also scared to death of black girls--any black girl. She also has nightmares about the traumatic beating and has seen shrinks because of it.
