Motorcycle Stories Novels & Stories

No rogue should either. “Why?” He didn’t answer. Instead, the heavy gates slowly began to open. The motorcycle rolled through. The first thing I noticed was how many people were inside. Motorcycles were parked in neat rows outside old stone buildings. Some wolves were repairing engines. Others carried crates between warehouses. Several were sparring in an open yard. It didn’t look anything like the stories I’d been told about rogue camps.

There are only two things in this fucked up world I give a damn about, motorcycles and women. ​I ride them both the same way with a heavy hand and zero mercy. I like easing into the stroke, feeling the machine warm up beneath me, then manhandling them around tight corners until the metal screams. I want them redlining, vibrating through my bones until they’re begging me to let off the gas. I don't do gentle. I do control. ​Sup, Boss.

They are also shocks when Duan said the motorbike can be keep in their space with the bicycle and they might used them in the jungle also the motorbike didn't need the gasoline . But none of them ask where the motorbike came from or the mountain bike came from too . Few of them came from the countrysife so for them to get the expensive and new motorbike also the mountain bike are already makes them greatly happy and grateful. There is also the bicycle already in their space when they got their space yesterday . The sounds then stop at eleven as they need to pack their things in their bagpack for the mission tomorrow . Luckily they had their space so they only need to bring few clothes for co

“Um… No?” Nancy looks around to make sure no one is listening and leans toward me to whisper. “He was in a huge motorcycle accident on Monday night. Broke several bones. Got a serious concussion, too. No one knows who the other biker was that caused the accident. Just someone who went by the name ‘Black Wolf’.” I’m shocked. That means that my vision came true… But… The image of Atwood driving away on a motorcycle on Monday night flashes across my mind. Did he have something to do with this? No, I think to myself, Atwood wouldn’t get involved in things like that.

she added. “Boys, can you show Xavier your motorcycle game on your tablets? I think he would love to see it. Especially since he drove me here on his motorcycle,” Rei grinned, clearly knowing that both of her boys’ faces would light up as they had. As they eagerly crowded around, they excitedly displayed their tablets and bombarded me with questions. The boys were curious about my motorcycle – they wanted to know its make and model, its top speed, how many years I had been riding, the design of my helmet, and whether their mother felt nervous riding on the back of it.

I told him and laughed. Motorcycle racing is so much fun, this helps me relieve stress whenever I have a lot on my plate. Especially being an heiress of the Valler House, it's just so tiring sometimes. Whenever I get on my motorcycle and let the breeze take my course, I feel so free. So free that it reminds of a certain anime that only swims free. Just kidding! But seriously, I don't give a care of the expectations and duties whenever I drive. All I see is an outside movie and I'm the only audience.

The above sentences are the thoughts of the author about what he thinks, but it is my duty to tell all the things he has in his mind. The space science and the beginning of the human era, why I always talk about the past, why I'm interested in the dead stories, why I tell a tale of another time, why I don't like the present and, also why I'm not narrating about those dumbasses who were about to close the mysterious case of random killing by an unidentified criminal (creature)? You might have so many questions and confusions about the fact that I puzzle a simple story in what we call a Riddle…? But you can still believe in me that I'll give you a gift tomorrow.

"This good-for-nothing can't drive his motorcycle safely to the end of the street. There is a distance of four or five hundred meters between us!" Someone sneered. Someone said sarcastically, "Is there even a need to think about it? No matter how powerful a motorcycle may be, it can only fit one hundred and forty-four people. It is simply impossible to move forward." "As far as I remember, the last motorcycle king used to carry more than 100 people on his motorcycle. But in the end, he didn't even drive one meter! How can this good-for-nothing do that? Because he is trash?"

I had my own bad childhood, but I'm not going to hold that against Jordan. "He's a wolf. Why does he have to be a wolf?" She asks sadly. "Yes, he's a wolf, and if he does anything to hurt you, we're all here to support you. However, he may be able to help you, Syd. Just talk to him." We pull up to a narrow paved road. When we reach the end, there's a large house with a few smaller houses nearby. Several bikers run outside when we come to a stop. I swear their eyes are about ready to pop out of their heads when we remove our helmets, and they see we're women.

James closed his helmet again and got onto a special edition Ducati Panigale V4 Superleggera motorcycle powered by a Superhart Tech engine. He drove his motorbike from the park onto the highway and back to the Ritz. A CAFE After Nicole gave an interview on a talk show, some magazines are now gathering to ask for an exclusive interview with her. And she is happy about it. She knew she could get James' attention in the end. "Tell me how you and James Belgenza met and started dating?" the woman's magazine reporter asked Nicole. Nicole smirked and answered the question on the tape recorder she held close to her.