Buyer's Bonus

Buyer’s Bonus

Edited

He was almost finished his coffee, idly scanning the newspaper someone had left, almost ready to leave, but the name in the newspaper ad caught his eye. Triumph. The British motorcycle manufacturer. He liked the new models, but the bikes that he liked best were the bikes from the nineteen-fifties and nineteen-sixties. The big twins. Tiger 100 and 110, Thunderbird, Speed Twin, Bonneville.

He studied the ad more closely. Hey! Tiger 100. He read on. 'Triumph Tiger 100 for sale. 1954 model. Carefully maintained, and in original condition.' Original condition? Maybe, maybe not. Now, where? 'Contact Al Jenner, Vine Mini-Mart.' Vine Mini-Mart? If he remembered correctly, that was only about three blocks away. They'd be open, it was only late afternoon. Might as well see if anyone else had enquired about the Tiger. He drained his coffee and picked up his helmet from the seat beside him.

Outside, the summer heat hit him hard after the relative cool of the diner. He smiled, wry. Motorcycle riding gear might save him skinning himself if he came off, but it certainly wasn't cool. Never mind, once he was moving the airflow would cool him but, first, Vine Mini-Mart.

The shop was where he'd thought it was, and there was room to park the Harley. Inside, the mart was arranged much as most of the others he'd used were, no surprises there. Only a couple of other customers, and by the time he'd glanced around they'd been served and gone. He glanced across to where the girl – woman, he corrected himself – stood beside the cash register. She was worth the look. Tall, slender, but unmistakably woman, judging by the thrust of breast and hip against the light poly-cotton of her coverall. He made his way across to the cash register.

The woman smiled. "Help you?"

He nodded. "Yes, you can. I'm looking for Al Jenner? About the Tiger 100."

She smiled. "You've found her. I'm Al Jenner. As in Al-short-for-Alison."

"Ah, right. Okay, about the Tiger? Is it still for sale? No other interest?"

"Still for sale, sure. I've had a couple of dealers make me crummy offers, but no serious interest otherwise. Why? You interested?"

"I am, yes. My name's Charlie West. I run Charlie's Harleys, over in Preston."

"Yeah, seen it when I've been over that way." Jenner grinned, and he found himself smiling in response. "Whatever does a Harley man want with a Triumph?"

"I've always liked the Triumph twins. My uncle had a couple of tries at Bonneville with a Tiger 110. Didn't win anything, or break any records, but he had a whale of a time, and I think his interest rubbed off on me, so if I buy it, it will be for me, not for sale."

Jenner smiled, but nodded towards a couple of teenage girls waiting to be served. "Excuse me a moment, okay?"

"Sure." He took the moment to admire her as she turned away to the girls. The poly-cotton coverall seemed to be about all she was wearing in the summer heat, finishing just above her knees. No bra strap evidenced itself through the thin material, and nor could he see any trace of pantie lines. His prick stirred in his pants at the thought she might be naked under the coverall in the summer heat. Whoa! Down, boy!

She was back in moments and handed him a page torn from a notebook.

“Come and check it out tomorrow, okay? That’s my address and cell number.”

“Tomorrow is fine. It will be afternoon, about two. That okay?”

“That’s fine. See you then.”

* * * * *

She was ready, waiting, when he arrived next day, the Tiger on the driveway, waiting. She gestured.

"There it is, Charlie. One Tiger 100."

"Very nice, Al. Does it start?"

"It did a month ago. Haven't tried since."

"Magneto ignition, so no worries about the battery." Charlie straddled the old Triumph, pulled in the clutch lever and kicked a couple of times to free the plates, then made sure the gearbox was in neutral. He took a firm grip, half-jumped and brought his weight down firmly on the kickstart. The engine burst into life with the unmistakable roar of the parallel twin-cylinder engine. Charlie revved it up a couple of times, listening carefully to the engine, then eased it to a tickover.

"Can I try it out, Al?"

"Sure," said Alison. He was still astride the bike and she stepped neatly up behind him and settled herself. "Go that way," she said, pointing. "There's an old barn about a mile along."

"That'll be okay. Hang on!" Charlie selected first, took a fistful of throttle and they were off. On the farm track the going was a little bumpy and Alison, conscious that she was helmetless, took a firm grip of Charlie's waist. The ride was exhilarating and she was sorry that it finished as Charlie pulled up at the old barn. He cut the engine and she stepped off, conscious suddenly that her panties were damp. Charlie pulled the bike onto its stand and turned to her.

"I'll buy it, Al. I'll give you your asking price, too."

"No haggling?" she laughed.

"No haggling." Charlie looked at her and she stared back at him. He moved an inch towards her and she echoed his movement. Again, and again and suddenly she was in his arms and their lips were crushed together in a heated kiss. Breathing heavily Alison tore her lips from his.

"The barn's not locked," she whispered.

He took her hand and led her inside. The warm gloom was broken by a shaft of sunlight slanting through a gap in the timbers. Charlie grabbed a horse-blanket and flicked it open on a pile of straw. Alison gasped as he picked her up and laid her on the blanket. For a moment she just lay there then she raised her arms to him.

"Sure?" he asked.

Alison laughed, slightly shaky. "Absolutely certain, Charlie. I know what I'm doing. I'm thirty-one, I'm divorced and I want you."

"I want you, too." He threw off his jacket, reached down and pulled off her sneakers, then reached to her waist and loosened the front of her jeans. "Lift your ass."

She did and he pulled her jeans off, then sat for a moment to pull off his boots and socks, before standing to remove his jeans. She stared at the bulge in his boxers and unconsciously licked her lips as he pushed down and kicked off the undershorts before pulling his shirt off over his head. Naked he went to his knees beside her, his cock hot and hard in the warm gloom.

Charlie reached out and took Alison's hand, pulling her to a seated position and stripping her sweater off over her head. Thumb and forefinger made short work of her bra and his strong hands simply ripped the panties from her hips.

He smiled at her start of surprise. "I'll buy you new ones."

She grinned. "Pay me with a fuck."

"My pleasure, ma'am."

"It'd better be

our

pleasure, Charlie West."

"Yes, ma'am." He bent and kissed her, lingeringly. "Now hush."

"Or?"

"I'll think of something."

"Promises, prom - ooh!" she said as his cock slid an inch into her wetness. "Oh, fuck, that feels good!"

"Enjoy it, Al."

"Yes," she hissed. "Fuck me, Charlie!"

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, laughing, then sobered. “Why, Al?”

“Why, what? Why, the fuck?”

“I guess.”

She stretched up and kissed his nose. “Buyer’s bonus!”

* * * * *

This one has been sitting on my hard drive since forever. I just came across it again, and thought I’d offer it – hopefully – for your reading pleasure. I used to own a 1954 Triumph Tiger 100 myself. I still miss it.