By ChrisTheHiker
Chapter 3: The House by the Sea
The motorbike weaves through the bends of the narrow Swedish roads. Fortunately, the rain has stopped, but the storm continues to rage. The bike wobbles with every gust of wind, yet Finn maintains complete control over the trajectory. I have actually never been on a motorbike in my life. I have thought about getting my licence several times—it would save me a lot of time getting into the centre of Milan—but in the end, the opportunity never arose. And I must admit that ever since a friend of mine from school had a serious accident, the after-effects of which he still suffers from, I have been quite anxious about motorbikes.
But not behind Finn. I can tell he is in complete control of his bike. And I can tell he is not riding to impress me. And yet I am impressed. Everything about him impresses me. Overwhelms me. Captivates me. On the back of this motorbike, my arms clinging to this tall, blue-eyed bloke in all leather, my legs spread and my crotch pressed against him, against the leather of his trousers, I think back to how I ended up here. On this motorbike heading towards an unknown destination, a chain padlocked around my neck. I don’t really have an explanation, other than that I felt the need to accept his offer to put me up and that I felt the need to get down on my knees in front of him when he asked me to. It just felt natural. And yet, even though I am usually a bit reserved by nature, I don’t even feel anxious; I feel calm and relaxed.
