Note: This is the first part of long story about passion, submission, and awakening. It's my first story here, and I hope you like it. If you do, please let me know. All your comments will be dear to me. Love, SweetArtemis.
When I was younger, riding a motorcycle behind a rider was always exciting for me, dangerous and thrilling, and of course erotic because you had to hold onto whoever controlled the bike, embrace them while the machine vibrated under you. Riding a motorcycle usually happened in summer, some forgettable teenage boy pretending to be a daredevil biker, and me behind him thinking more about the smell of the trees flying by than about his skill maneuvering a mechanical horse. I liked boys, I liked holding a boy like that, but never enough to swoon.
Now years had passed and I was on a motorcycle again. But this time the body in front of me was a woman's body. She was no teenage boy. Her name was Gail, she was breathtaking, and throughout the evening at the party it had never dawned on me that she might be my ride home. Was it real? The feel of the motorcycle's engine under my bare thighs told me it was real indeed. I was wearing a skirt, had carefully folded it under me to keep it in place, but skirts are not made for motorcycles. No matter, I was thankful I had decided to leave my car at home and go to the party in a taxi.
Gail was certainly lovely, tall, a perfect face, high cheekbones, piercing eyes, a lean body in a tank top and tight black jeans. At the party, I had found her delicious to look at, and now I sat behind her on her motorcycle with my face resting against her neck and her scent intoxicating my senses. She seemed younger than I was, but I later learned we were the same age, just past thirty. I wondered if I'd stepped out of reality into a dream.
What did I want from her? I had no idea. I'd been in the dumps since my divorce, moving from one day to the next like an automaton. Did I want this? She was gay and I was far from that, no more than a few flings with girl roommates in college, then after college a completely straight marriage that fell apart when it became obvious that my husband drank too much to share my life. So why was I sitting behind Gail on her motorcycle? I told myself never mind that, I wanted it. I hadn't ever been with a woman like her, not anyone so exciting. That was it: she was impossibly exciting and I needed some excitement. Would Gail bring me out of myself, out of my despair? Would sex with a woman make me alive again? And would there be sex at all? Maybe this was merely a ride home on a motorcycle with nothing expected. She certainly hadn't hinted at the party that she wanted me in bed. Was I crazy to imagine I could go through with it? Giggling girls in a college dorm were one thing, but this was a grown woman and quite different.
Finally we were at my house, and as we rolled into the driveway it occurred to me the noise of the motorcycle had probably awakened everyone on the block and they might all be peeking through their curtains at me and this woman who was still a complete stranger to me. I knew nothing about her. Was she dangerous? But that too was exciting.
She killed the engine and I dismounted. After she stabilized the machine, she looked at me.
"Are you inviting me in?"
I nodded. "If you want to."
She seemed amused. "Oh, I want to, all right. You know I do."
We walked onto the porch. But before I could open the door, she pulled me into the shadows and kissed me.
"Last chance," she said. "If you'd rather I go, I will. You're new at this, I can tell."
"How can you tell?"
"Intuition. If you're not ready, let's not do it."
"I suppose I'll find out."
"How many women have you been with?"
"Only two."
"And a long time ago."
"Yes."
She nuzzled my neck and closed a hand over my breast. "Whatever you want," she said.
I turned from her and opened the door with my keys.
***
The second we were inside, the door closed behind us and the hall light on, she took me in her arms and kissed me again. Her hands slid down my back to clutch my ass through my skirt. Then her hands pulled up my skirt in the rear and she slid her hands into my panties to grasp my cheeks. I thrilled at the feel of her hands on my bare skin. There would be no dallying, no romantic seduction. She obviously understood that I was already seduced. I knew it was senseless to hold back. I was all hers.
"I looked at your ass all evening," she said.
"No you didn't."
"Yes I did, but only when you had your back to me."
"I'm too big down there."
"No, you're not too big. I like it the way you are."
