This story stands on its own but does reference the Reverend DuToit who appears first in the second portion of 'Meeting me at the Ritz'
*
"How did I get here?" thought Michelle.
Here was sitting at a biker bar in Fisheating Creek, Florida. Who even ever heard of Fisheating Creek? More to the point, here was sitting in a chair, her blouse completely unbuttoned, her breasts barely contained by the lace demi-bra she had on, and her face and tits covered with cum.
It had all started out on a whim. She'd rented a Harley for Robert for a weekend remembering that he'd ridden in his 20's and saw the gleam in his eyes whenever he reminisced with his brothers or a happenstance biker. His whole body smiled she said, when he talked about building the bike from a box of parts, trading some, buying other parts, and building the entire chopper himself. He'd lost it in a miserable accident nearly 30 years ago and had been severely hurt in the accident though you wouldn't know it now.
When he saw the bike he had nearly burst. "Oh my God, Michelle! You're the best!" Getting on the Harley Fat Boy his skills guiding the big bike hadn't rusted an iota. It was as if he'd only just gotten off a bike the day before. "C'mon, let's go for a ride."
"No, you go first honey." Michelle responded both wanting him to enjoy himself and not so sure she wanted to get on it just yet.
He took off in a roar and rounded the corner as she smiled to herself knowing she'd done her good deed for the day.
When he came back he was as excited as he was when he left, the grin ear to ear. "We're going to have to go for a ride." and the next thing she knew they were off, she on the back of the big Harley her hands held tightly around him for the first few miles and then relaxing as she got comfortable with his skills guiding the beast down the road. "This is pretty cool." she thought to herself loving both the feel of the wind, and the feeling that she'd truly done something good for her husband.
They rode out of Bradenton, Florida east through the redneck town of Arcadia and then were heading south on 27when she nudged him "It's time for pit stop, honey."
"No problem." and he pulled into the first place he could, the campgrounds at Fisheating Creek. "I remember this place, Michelle. We had a blowout of a party here back when I was in college. Roasted 12 pigs and went through over 27 kegs of beer." "Damn, that was fun."
She loved his stories and there seemed to be no end of them. From the time he was cooking boy scout meals of potatoes, carrots, onions and hamburger in tinfoil, to his adventures sliding down the slopes of Aspen on his back having fallen at breakneck speed. She particularly liked his tales of traveling in Europe, backpacking really, and the people he met. He always seemed to meet the most interesting people and that really turned her on as she was every bit as extroverted in that way as he was. She loved meeting new people and having new experiences.
So they stopped, she found the restroom while he wandered about. When she came out they walked around the campground him showing her where he'd camped, where he'd fallen in the creek having had more than his share of the evenings revelry, and where they had had the bonfire where his brother in law had fallen asleep and his polyester slacks had melted on his leg on one of the coldest nights of the winter. They laughed at the exploits and then headed back to the bike waiting for them in the parking lot.
Hopping on Robert said "I'm ready for a beer." Michelle didn't drink herself, but she knew her man and knew also that he didn't drink to get drunk anymore, but would have a beer or two on a hot day and that was just fine with her.
So it was that they pulled into the first roadhouse they saw, "The Office". A cute name for what was a typical south Florida biker bar. There was a single other Harley there when they pulled in and the bar was typically dark with a pair of quarter pool tables, the smell of stale beer, a juke box, and a well worn bar with wooden stools. The few tables in the bar were formica topped, and the chairs plastic.
Robert and Michelle strolled up to the bar, he in blue jeans and a black t-shirt, a holdover from his biker days though this one didn't have the name of a Harley dealership on it, or a tribute to one of the great biker gatherings at Daytona, Laconia, or Sturgis. It was a plain black t-shirt but it was the best he could do on such short notice. Michelle wore a white button down blouse, a lace demi-bra, and her own tight fitting jeans.
Robert had imported her from New England where she'd grown up in a privileged neighborhood. While she enjoyed 'slumming it' she'd never really been in a biker bar and the idea excited her no end. And now, here she was and she was playing it up.
"C'mon Robert, let's play some pool."
"OK, just let me get my beer and we'll play a game." Robert got a draft, took a long sip and set it down on the bar. He put some quarters on the table along with 3 in the slot, pushed the plunger in and the balls rolled to one end where he pulled them out and racked them up.
Robert was being kind and Michelle knew it. He let her sink a few before taking charge and ending the game in his favor. She'd seen him play before in his house on his antique table. Robert was good. Not great, but really good. Toward the end of the game they heard a loud rumbling and knew it was a bunch of Harley's coming in. Robert stopped what he was doing and went to the window. It was a good group of bikers -- 8 or 9 bikes and of varying ages from perhaps 25 or so on up to the mid 40's. Each of the bikers was dressed appropriately, old jeans, black t-shirts, and maybe a sleeveless denim jacket. Some wore gloves with the fingers cut out, others none at all. 3 of the bikers had their 'old ladies' on the back.
They were laughing as they came in and it was obvious they were having a good time. Robert finished off the 8 ball, grabbed what was left of his beer and finished it off as well. Michelle fell into the roll of old lady quickly and went for another beer for Robert.
"Hey, mind if we join you?" one of the bikers asked the second table already taken by 4 others of his group.
"No, no problem." was Robert's immediate response. "We can play doubles. Me and Michelle against you and your lady."
"Tammy." the biker said, "Her name is Tammy and I go by Lizard".
