It was too nice of a day to be in the shop. The first eighty plus degree day of the year and I was itching to get out on my bike, burn some gas, get out of the city and feel the pavement pass in a blur for awhile. I'd spent the last year working on it, getting it solid so I was confident there would be no issues when I was 150 miles out of town.
my bike is a 1966 BSA chopper. A true survivor built in the early 70's. long springer fork, exhaust pipes that sweep past the rear wheel and a super skinny white metal flake seat with the passenger backrest ending at shoulder height and a sissy bar that sits a foot taller. Riding it is like being on a time machine, this is what choppers were like before lame tv shows made $20,000 douchemobiles a midlife crisis fad for suburban white guys.
You'd been asking me for a ride since I rebuilt it and I knew you worked weekends so I decided to swing by your house to see if you were up for it.
When I got there I could see your Volvo parked out front, hopefully I'd catch you before you got busy for the day. When there was no answer from the doorbell I waited another minute, gave a couple loud knocks, waited, then a little disappointed started back toward the bike. As I climbed on you poked your head out the door, a towel wrapped around your hair and said, "hey, sorry I was in the shower. Is everything ok?" "Yeah," I said, "I decided to play hooky from work and go for a ride. Do you wanna come?"
"YEAH!", you said, your eyes lighting up with excitement, "come in, give me a minute to get ready."
As your walking back to your bedroom the towel around your torso slips a little just as your reaching up to catch the towel around your hair from slipping. "God Dammit!" you exclaim, as your damp blond hair falls to your shoulders and you make an attempt to recover your breasts.
I turn my back to you out of consideration for you and also because seeing the quick flash of your near naked body caused a rapid swelling in my pants I didn't want you to see. "You look good Critz," I said. "For being forty I bet you still make woman half your age jealous at the gym." "Thanks, but I think your just being nice and trying to make me feel good about being old." you reply, as you close the bedroom door behind you.
After a few minutes, to my surprise, you come back to the living room wearing a pair of snug jeans and a tank top cut at the midriff with no bra underneath. "Uhh, wow!" i blurt out. When you first asked me to take you for a ride I, somewhat jokingly told you you'd have to wear something that matched the bike. if you're gonna ride on the crazy 70's chopper you'd have to dress like a crazy 70's biker mamma.
"You know I was just being nice before but holy smokes your fucking hot," I said. "This is what you said I had to wear." you replied, with a rare mischievous smile. "Yeah, uh, right." was all I could say.
"Are you ready?" you ask. Hardly able to pull my eyes away from your full breasts, the hint of pink where your nipples were pushing against the cloth, I have to remind myself that your not referring to, or are even aware of, how hard you made me. "Let's do it." I say.
The ride started out ok. Traffic was kind of heavy and every time we hit a bump or pothole I'd feel your breasts bounce against my back and when I'd hit the throttle you'd squeel in delight and squeeze your thighs against me as the bike shot forward. needless to say I was distracted at first.
After about an hour out of town I was able to forget about everything and let the pavement passing underneath turn into a sort of meditation. The road meets the sky in the horizon and there's nothing to do but let your mind project beyond it. Even the sounds of the bike and wind disappear for a bit. This is what I was hoping for and needing.
I decide to turn off the highway and ride up into the national forest. Even cruising at 75 it still feels warm and it'd be nice to break for a bit where it's a little cooler.
About 5 miles down a service road it turns to gravel for a mile then abruptly ends, picking our stopping point for us. My legs are cramped and could use a little stretching anyways. Shutting off the bike it's immedietly clear how distant we are from everything we wanted to get away from.