Pt. XV: Biker Babes
The bait rode to see Spike in Sal's Land Cruiser. Obviously the three women would not fit very well in Kim's Miata. Caitlin mentioned the time she sat on Brett's lap in Jack's Mercedes SLK convertible.
"I'm looking forward to getting on a bike again," Caitlin reminisced. "It has been awhile. There is something about riding a motorcycle that makes me real horny. I don't know if it's the vibration I feel between my legs or just what. A real rush."
"What doesn't make you horny, Caitlin?" Kim asked sarcastically.
Caitlin ignored her and continued with, "I always had a nice bike. I started with a little pink tricycle with streamers on the handlebars and moved on to a red, white and blue two-wheeler with training wheels. When I was twelve, my grandfather, much to the chagrin of my mother, started me on little Yamaha dirt bikes. When I was fourteen he let me ride the real stuff, those old Indians."
Spike, an intriguing character, had wrinkled and tanned skin that looked like well-used leather and several prominent scars on his face. Quite fitting for an ancient ex-Hell's Angel. He purchased a Harley-Davidson dealership when he gave up the wild lifestyle, at the insistence of his new wife. He sold the dealership at a large profit and now he owned a little shop where he just rebuilt and reconditioned old Harleys when in the mood.
"What beauty pageant did you girls escape from?" were the first words out of Spike's mouth.
"Well, Mr. Spike," Caitlin blurted excitedly, "where are these Harleys we are gonna ride? Those?" She pointed to the three old Harleys that were sitting in the middle of the garage.
"The 'those' you are pointing to, missy, are a 1935 VLD Twin Carb TNT, a 1933 VLD 74 Special Sport and a 1938 UL 74. None are ready for the road yet. That one, the 1938 UL 74, cost around $400 brand-new in 1938. When I am done with it, $40,000 couldn't buy it. No missy, not those bikes, not for you girls. You get brand spanking new Harleys."
"Read my lips, Mr. Spike," Caitlin pouted, "just where are these brand spanking new Harleys we are gonna ride?"
"You can't ride a Harley in those clothes, young lady. I'll have to dress you girls properly first, I suppose."
"Hey, dude, I got my riding clothes in the overnight bag in the back of the Land Cruiser. If I put them on, will you show me my Harley?"
"Only if I can watch you change," Spike joked.
"No problem, Mr. Spike. With that scraggly hair and beard, you look like an old goat. Too old. If you ever touched me you know where I bet you would just up and croak. But I bet you still like to watch, honey, don't you?"
"Well, uh, uh, yes I certainly do," Spike stammered.
"Alrighty then," Sal added, "show us our Harleys and then you can watch us change. Promise."
Kim nodded in agreement and offered, "But Sal and I need riding clothes. We also need riding lessons."
"No problem, girls," I'll take care of all that. The Harleys are out back. Let's go take a look."
Caitlin let out a little squeal when she saw the bikes. "I'm getting horny just looking at these machines!"
"These are brand new ..." Spike tried to begin.
"Yeah, Softails," Caitlin interrupted.
Caitlin kicked off her high heels, slipped off her pantyhose and removed her blazer. She got on the red Softail, started it and took off in a cloud of dust wearing only a very short skirt and a halter top; barefoot and no helmet, illegal of course in Nevada.
Spike was in shock momentarily. "Well, I guess Caitlin picked out the one she wanted. These bikes are all the same except for the color. The one she just took off on was 'luxury rich red pearl' and I suppose that you, Kim, get the โvivid blackโ one and you, Sal, get the 'white pearl' one." Kim and Sal nodded in affirmation.
"These Harleys are 2000 FLSTC Heritage Softail Classics. Here is your electronic speedometer with odometer and resettable trip meter. Here are your fuel gauge, oil pressure indicator lamp and engine diagnostic light." Spike spent the next two hours explaining every feature and the operating basics to Kim and Sal.
"OK," Spike continued, "when Caitlin gets back, we'll go for a little ride. I'll ride up on behind one of you and Caitlin can ride up on behind the other."
"You can ride with me, Spike," Sal insisted, "that Caitlin is too wacko for me." Kim started to protest but then just shrugged and laughed.
"Well, let's go get you girls some riding clothes. Caitlin already has hers so she said although she certainly didn't bother putting them on. I wonder where the hell she went?"
Kim joked, "She probably got busted by the cops!" Spike, Kim and Sal walked next door to a place called Spike and Son's Lewd Leather Emporium. Spike put the key in the door and let them in with, "We are not open for business yet. The grand opening will be in two weeks when everything is ready and we have fully stocked inventory. So what exactly do you girls need?"
"Everything Spike," Kim responded, "the whole works. You got to turn us classy ladies into down and dirty biker babes, and quickly."
"I can do that," Spike said, nodding his head like a woodpecker. "What should we start with?"
Kim unsnapped the front of her Australian oilskin waterproof washed back canvas overalls. It looked like a snowmobile suit except much lighter and more comfortable.
There wasn't much under the duster that covered almost everything until it came off except for, well, undergarments. Kim was wearing only a stretch mesh string bikini and matching demi bra. She was bulging out a little on the bottom and a lot on the top.
"Uh, uh, uh," muttered Spike quite dumbstruck, "what color is that skimpy outfit?"
"Honolulu Melon, Mr. Spike."
"What color are you wearing, Sal my dear?" Spike asked.
Sal was wearing a tweed skirt, matching jacket and cream silk blouse. Great outfit for a governor's administrative assistant but zilch in the biker and leather underground. She shed the garments quickly.
"Wildcat Blue I am wearing, Mr. Spike. Matches my eyes, right? I might also point out that the size of my top is 38 D as opposed to Kim's which is 36 C. Not important, just trivia, but here I'll show you." Sal slid the adjustable straps off her shoulders and unfastened the back close.
"Uh, uh, uh." That was all Spike could muster. He was beginning to sound like a broken record.
"Oh, fuck you bitch!" Kim screamed in jest. Why don't you brag about your tits, 'eh? Hey Spike, find her something fast to cover up those slut puppies with, will ya?"
"Uh, uh, OK. Here's a little something you might like." He pulled a black leather vest off the rack. It had a full collar, lapels and front zipper closure so one could show as much cleavage as one wanted. Sal tried it on.
"Awesome!" Spike cried. "Here are some matching leather shorts."
Sal slipped off her Wildcat Blue mesh string bikini and flung it at Spike. He sniffed it and began making panting noises. He couldn't help staring at Sal's neatly trimmed almost white triangle that matched the hair on her head.
"Dun, duh, da, daaang girl, you got some long legs," was all Spike could sputter as his eyes continued to focus on that particular center of attention.
"Spike," Sal chided as a precautionary measure, "you are foaming at the mouth. Now settle down a little bit here, boy. We don't want to be doing CPR on you, ya know."