The challenge word is Dust and I think I may have wandered into objectification!
The fierce desert sun glints blindingly off the burnished chrome as he slides a long lean leg over the seat of the vintage motor cycle and eases dirty, torn denim against the warm, black leather.
He raises a scuffed boot to the foot plate. Pale, arid dust tumbles back to the uneven floor as he flexes his toes against the brake pedal.
He slides the bloodied machete back into the scabbard strapped to his thigh and reaches forward, arching his sculpted back, and smiling as he grasps the grips of the Harley machine.
"Bro!"
His brother laughs.
"Get a room!"
Well I enjoyed it! Heehee.