As far back as I can remember, Maggie has always been a slut! I don't mean that in a disparaging way, not at all. It's just that she has always liked sex. As much of it as she can get! We've been married for over thirty years now, and still enjoy a wonderful love life, although perhaps not as frequently as we once did. I suppose time and gravity have taken their inevitable toll on both of us, but to me (and others that I know) Maggie remains a beautiful woman. Beautiful she may be now, but in her younger days she was a real fox!
We met in the late sixties when we were both in our late teens. It was a wonderful time in Britain; although we were all acutely aware of American guys our own age, and younger, fighting for their country in Vietnam.
The songs of Lennon and McCartney were heard from every radio, competing for chart positions with Elvis and The Stones. The guys wore their hair long, held back with bandana's and the girls wore skirts so short you could see their panties every time they climbed into a car! Work was easy to find, and as teenagers, we basically flitted from job to job earning enough money to enjoy ourselves.
I remember the first time that Maggie and I "dated" like it was only yesterday. All my friends were part of a motorcycle gang. Not really the "Hells Angels" type of thing, although I'm sure some of us had aspirations in that direction, but more just a group of mates that liked to ride out into the country as often as possible and drive as fast as possible.
My best friend, Johnny and myself had both bought big Triumph bikes and treated them as if they were our children! We were always tinkering with the engines and trying to sound like we knew what we were doing.
It was a public holiday and John and I had both decided to ride from our home's in London down to Brighton on the south coast. We were a little concerned because the others didn't seem keen to go and there was bound to be trouble down there with the scooter riding "Mods". But, completely undaunted by the thought of getting the shit kicked out of us, John and I set out for the coast.
We had not even left town when I spotted Maggie walking out of a shop. She looked stunning, her long blonde hair falling in curls almost to her waist. She wore a short, black leather skirt with fashionable knee length boots and a leather jacket. I just had to stop.
Johnny looked a little pissed off as I pulled over to the side of the road in front of Maggie, but he knew that I had had my eye on her for sometime and I think, secretly, he would have liked to get to know her better as well.
"Hi babe!" I called, in my best James Dean voice.
I had not had a whole lot of experience with the fairer sex and my "chat-up" lines were not good! She smiled sweetly back at me.
"Hello Bobby. Where are you off to then?"
"Me and Johnny are driving down to Brighton. Should be good, if we can keep out of trouble!"
Her smile was intoxicating and I could feel myself sinking further and further into those deep blue eyes. An impatient cough from behind me reminded me that John was still waiting.
"Well, I suppose I'd better get going." I said
"Aren't you going to ask me if I want to come as well?" Maggie suddenly said.