Ladies, whose shoes would be welcome under your bed?


Ladies, you will be helping men the world over, simply by leaving any relevant comments about these bike looks. Remember, we can’t make you happy if you don’t actually say what you like 🙂  There are no professional models here, just regular guys working their glutes off to be loved by their lady.

3 Comments

  1. Anonymous says:

    Unfortunately as a follower of your blog Dr. Behooving, I know the identity of each of these anonymous models and so it makes it a little tricky to disassociate the look with the actual rider. What I can say though is that I initially thought 1940’s look was you and so was drawn to that photo until I realised who it really was and also pathracer has an underlying sophistication despite the casual attire. The accompanying bikes of these 2 are also the most desirable in my opinion. Hope that helps the men of the world Dr. Behooving (my choice).

  2. Anonymous says:

    I am an 18-year-old aspiring-nymphomaniac. I am also a virgin; saving myself for the right cyclist. I have spent countless feverish nights lying naked and spreadeagled on my bed covered only by gossamer-thin sheets dreaming of my Mr. Right and a perfect bike. I stumbled by accident onto this blog but now I have seen my deus-et-machina, my life’s destiny is assured. My quest is over for I have seen “PATHRACER”!

    Suddenly, one thousand whirring images fill my head like the motion of his fine, muscular legs pounding rhythmically the pedals of the bike. The bike yields to him, as I long to do.

    I imagine holding the wheels of the Pashley as he inflates her tyres. I can feel the tube hardening under the gentle caress of my hands. Each stroke of the pump sends quivers through the tyre; it becomes hot and hard.

    I see him gently probe with his fingers the Pashley’s Sturmey-Archer 3-speed hub. His thoughtful attention of the Pashley’s needs ensures that she is always well lubricated. His gentle caresses bring forth two drips of oil from the delicate flanges of the gears. They run down the spokes of the wheel.

    I experience a white hot bolt of jealousy when I see PATHRACER mount his black beauty. Her shiny, pitch-coloured paintwork and well-oiled parts seem so different to my silky, alabastar skin and undefiled places. I cannot bear to think of the joy he feels as he rides her. The Pashley is an experienced lover and knows well the paths of many wild places. My heart is almost torn asunder as I imagine the beads of sweat and excitement on PATHRACER’S face as he summons all his strength to drive her onwards; ever onwards; over every hill and push her deep, deep into every valley.

    But my PATHRACER is a gentleman. We shall share the Pashley. I shall also be able to gently lower myself upon her and ride her to my exhaustion.

    Now I sit here; tightly squeezing my thighs together in anticipation of my lover and his bike. My hands resent this keyboard. They want to caress my body in the same way as my PATHRACER will. I want to see his black oily fingermarks all over my white skin. I want the sweet oils of the Pashley to be mixed in holy unison with my virginal nectars. I feel like I could burst.

    Please, Dr Behooving, reveal the identity of this Art-Deco Adonis. I wish to become one with him and his machine. My febrile dreams can finally become a happy reality. The three of us, PATHRACER, me and the Pashley Guv’nor shall become one flesh.

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