Biker sitting in a pub, quietly nursing his pint, when the door opens and in walks a lady of easily negotiable affection. She sits at the bar next to our hero and says in a husky voice, “Hey big boy, have you ever had a thrill?”
“Yeah,” replies the sledder, “I was out on my bike and was rippin’ down some country lanes; the sun was shinin’, the little birds wuz tweetin’, the bike was runnin’ sweet and everythin’ was cool.”
“No, silly,” I mean have you ever had a real thrill?” she asks again.
“Oh yeah,” he answers. “I was cranking it over into some really tight bends and the footpegs were scraping out wiv sparks flying behind me!”
Bloody hell, she thinks, this bloke is so thick his brain must be custard. I’ll make it simple for him.
“What I mean is,” she says, as she runs her hand up the inside of his thigh and squeezes his nuts, opens her legs to reveal a complete absence of panties and hair, “have you ever felt a cunt?”
“Yeah,” he sez. “I fell off.”