He'd seen lots of girls riding big bikes over the years. It wasn't an uncommon thing these days. The yellow Sportster that flew by got his attention. He was hooking down the road at almost eighty on his full dressed 74, and it passed him like he was standing still! He cracked the throttle and took out in pursuit of the smaller bike.
He caught up with it in the next small town on the California Highway. He almost missed it, sitting behind the gas pumps. He pulled up next to it and watched the rider fill the tank. Helmeted, in a matching yellow set of leathers, the anonymous rider payed him no mind. He shut down his rumbling machine and dismounted. He took the next nozzle, and began to fill his own tanks.
He followed the mystery rider in, and paid for his gas. The rider looked at him from behind dark glasses under the full face helmet, and gave a short nod before walking back out. Still resting next to his bike, the rider watched as he pulled out the kick start lever and applied a full stroke to fire the beast to life. As it settled into the heavy, pounding idle common to large Harley-Davidson bikes, the rider mounted and pushed the start button.
He nodded to the yellow bike and started through town. At the last traffic light, the small rider pulled up next to him. Eyeing the smaller bike, he kicked his into first gear a left the intersection quickly and smoothly. Not racing, but not sitting still, he ran through the gears, winding the big bike tight in each gear. Settled into fourth, his feet on the high pegs, he looked in his mirror and saw the yellow rider just behind him.
He sat up and looked back at the bike, then throttled back to let it come next to him. Still holding each other's lane, the rode side by side into the hills. The road narrowed, and one lane disappeared, causing the two bikes to share a lane. Yellow kept pace, and rode just a few feet away through the mountain turns and curves. The two bikes harmonized. Because of their similar design, but different size, the engines turned at different speeds and the resulting exhaust "symphony" created a thrumming, hypnotic harmony as they ate up the miles.
Almost an hour of hills and beautiful scenery along the coast, he decided to take a break at the next pullout. His curiosity was getting to him, he had to find out who it was. He caught "Yellow's" attention and gave the universal `break' sign with his hands. Yellow nodded, and they both slowed at the next pullout and stopped. Idling the bikes for a few moments, he looked out over the Pacific Ocean, crashing on the shore below. He shut his bike off, and Yellow did the same. They dismounted, and as he lit a cigarette, Yellow took off the helmet.
He almost dropped his smoke when he saw the long sandy hair fall out of the helmet, and the most beautiful girl that shook it back from her face. She wasn't much taller than five-two. He couldn't tell with her leathers on, but she looked to be of a medium build. She had sparkling green eyes and a killer smile. She declined his offer of a smoke, but reached into her saddlebag and pulled out two cold drinks she had picked up at the gas station.
He took one and thanked her.
"Name's Ray." He introduced himself.
"Lee-Anne here, but you can call me Lee, if you want." She replied.
Small talk ensued, where from, where to, how long been riding, that sort of road talk. Round about they seemed to be heading for the same rally up north. She was supposed to be with some other riders, but they screwed up and got drunk the night before. She didn't drink, and definitely wasn't giving up the fine day of riding to wait for their heads to clear. So here she was. They agreed on the roads to take, and mounted their steeds to resume the ride. Excellent weather and fine roads got them near the rally just before dark. Her friends were supposed to have a place to stay, but they hadn't given her the exact directions.
They checked a few motels, and soon discovered there were no rooms within twenty miles. He pulled out a map, and found a state park about five miles away. They left town, and found the park to be relatively full, but not completely. He paid the three dollar overnight camper fee, and they went in search of a site. They found a small trail at the top of a hill, and discovered a little clearing right next to a pond. He looked at Lee, and she nodded. They shut down the bikes, and Lee watched as Ray took a tarp and some pegs from his saddlebags and fashioned a tent between the two bikes.
"Well, I..uh..Guess we're `roomies' for the night?" Lee-Anne queried.
"If it's okay with you, yes." Ray said quietly.
She went on to tell him that she was married, after all, but if he "behaved" it was good with her. His promise to be "good" accepted, they settled in for the evening. When Lee removed her leather jacket, Ray got a first look at her stature. She wore a halter that contained a firm pair of breasts with thick nipples that showed nicely through the thin cloth. Lee had a good shape to her torso, not skinny and drawn, but soft and full. Curves in the right places, so to speak. Further evidenced when she unzipped the pants legs from ankle to waist to reveal a pair of short-shorts underneath. As she bent to fold her leather, Ray caught a glimpse of her butt cheeks trying to escape the denim. `Nice, round butt.' He thought to himself. He reminded himself of his promise, and took off his own leather jacket. Lee-Anne looked over her temporary roommate while he put his jacket in the tourpack. He had a trim figure, no potbelly, and lean, strong arms. Her kitty got warm and wet between her legs, and she had to caution herself of the "promise".
She watched as Ray started removing things from his tourpack, and started a small campfire. A little set of pots and pans, plates and some canned food appeared.
"You came prepared for this, didn't you?" she asked.
"If you don't have a motel or a friend nearby, you've got to be, at these rallies."
