Manga Moto Novels & Stories

"So beautiful!" "Ms. Thompson... You couldn't see her face with the helmet on," Tom said, somewhat exasperated. "I was talking about the motorcycle! It's a Yamaha Sr400 classic edition. You should know your bikes!" Diana's eyes gleamed. Tom:... He realized he was not well-informed in this area. In the passenger seat, Mitbahl propped up his chin, gazing at the disappearing figure of the motorcycle. A faint hint of coldness flickered in his eyes.

Ditto buddy! “What? You can fly over the river as a wolf?” I shot. “Almost, I am one of the fastest wolves in Astoria,” Kent said. Not bragging but just like it was a fact. “Why don’t you transform and I hop on your back? I can hold on pretty tight.” I suggested. Kent turned to me slowly. He looked beyond angry. “How dare you!” “What?” I asked, confused. “How dare you ask an Alpha to be your mule? I have never, will never, let anyone ride my back.” He explained further.

All would have the club logo or insignia. For just a minute, Jo toyed with the idea of picking up a motorcycle man… she briefly indulged in a fantasy of peeling off layers of leather, of running her fingers over the inevitable tattoos on his body, of moaning a sexy road name (like Chains, or Rider, or Brute) as he took her trembling body over and over.

"Your flying magical weapon is very unique." Riding on the black motorcycle, Golden Cicada propped up the unconscious Sweet Sound, with one hand on Ding Hao's shoulder. Fathomless darkness whistled past them on their sides. There was a strange vrooming noise as Ding Hao revved up his magic motorcycle, the Black Whirlwind. It really appeared like a black whirlwind, advancing at top speed into the vast wilderness.

Wendy glanced at me, looking a bit worried. I smiled faintly, "Don't worry. He wouldn't dare to harm me." But right after I said that, I heard a loud revving engine in the distance. When I got out of the car, I saw three or four motorcycles coming from behind. One of them stopped right in front of me. "Hey, gorgeous, need any help?" said the man. He was wearing baggy jeans and a hoodie, his exposed skin covered in tattoos. All of the motorcycles sported the same logo.

His deep forest scent invades my nose, and I feel myself drown in him, in everything that is Kai. “So, what is this beast called?” I ask, meaning the motorcycle. “Kawasaki Ninja H2 SX, luckily this one is street legal. I knew I would get you today, so I chose this one.” He says and moves to start the bike, but I place my hand on his arm. “Street legal? What does that mean?” I ask, too afraid to know, but he lets out a chuckle as the beast growls to life. “You’ll see,” is all that he promised before we sped away.

I panted hard, ecstasy and the orgasmic glow still rushing in my blood, and made my entire skin tingle--- and that's when I heard it! Motorcycles! “What’s that?” I frowned, getting to my elbows, and looked down at Steel, who smugly licked his lips. His entire face glistening with my juices. “My friends,” he replied as a matter-of-fact. “They also know when to fuck off!” Still panting, I tried to make sense of his words. My heart was hammering in my chest, and nervously, I glanced at the door, more or less expecting it to burst open and a bunch of rowdy men to enter. But the sounds of the motorcycles were slowly dying…

Tokyo, Japan. Shibuya District. Rain slickened the neon-lit streets. The air vibrated with the roar of modified engines. "Entrance to Sector 4 is behind that barricade," Kian pointed to a tunnel entrance guarded by armed men with dragon tattoos. "The Red Dragon Clan. They don't let anyone pass unless you pay... or unless you race." "I hate paying," Mia adjusted her gloves. She straddled a sleek, matte-black Ducati superbike they had "borrowed" from the local black market.

His jaw tightened, but his eyes softened just a fraction. He didn't make empty promises. He didn't tell me everything was going to be fine. Instead, he turned and dragged me by the hand toward the mouth of the alley. Parked under the dim streetlamp sat a massive, matte-black motorcycle. It looked like a beast resting in the dark, heavy and custom-built, the Iron Fang symbol painted subtly across the gas tank. The night air bit at my cheeks, but my blood was burning with pure terror. Zane stepped up to the machine, swung his long leg over the seat, and brought the engine to life.

"It's preferable to go home." Afterwards, we put our shoes and immediately head to his bike. We came to the beach on his big sleek motorcycle. It's an amazing black Kawasaki Ninja with some prominent white outlines. I was afraid to have a ride on this beast at first, but I trusted Eren though he tried to scare the hell out of me by burning up the road like grease lightning.