A man gets out of prison. He's walking around and he sees me. I am longingly looking at a motorcycle. It's a creamy brown color. He walks up to me and says, "Oh ya?" meaning little ol' you is interested in riding this powerful motorcycle? I just smile and walk away. He says, "You wait over there. I'll get you a motorcycle." I sit on a couch across the ornate hotel lobby room from a huge log fire. The flames are white. There is a small log fire with white flames on the couch next to me. I warm myself on it. I am tired, so I nod off for awhile as he goes to get me a motorcycle. A man comes by and puts a note in my hand. I am aware of it, even though I'm asleep. A couple loom large on my left, watching and then they leave. The man with a motorcycle comes. I am pleased and happy. I get on the seat behind him. I ask him where I should sit and, "How do I place my feet so I'll be safe?" He instructs me. I put my arms around him and lay my hands on the handle bars with his. He removes my hands and puts them on his chest. I think that makes sense; it could be dangerous with both of us in control. I think, "Later, I'll sit in front and drive and he can ride." I enjoy the sensual pleasure of curling around him as we ride along. It's like I "have to" put my arms around him for my safety, not that I'm putting my arms around him for pleasure and therefore I could enjoy the pleasure.