It had been a year since Don had left Samantha and moved in with his secretary. As part of the divorce settlement Samantha kept her home and had sufficient money to get by.
It occurred to me that it had been a year in which Sam had drawn herself into a shell. Although she lived just down the road we were at best nodding acquaintances. Then it struck me that she'd always seemed the quiet type, Don, her ex, would strike up a conversation but Sam was never included, and if she did attempt to join in Don would quickly cut her short giving the impression that Sam's opinions were unimportant.
Sam didn't drive so she could often be seen walking to the shops a couple of kilometres away. Her head was always bowed as if trying to avoid eye contact with passers by. Which was something of a pity as Sam in her late twenties was an attractive lady. Even her defensive posture could not disguise her striking figure with full firm breasts and curving hips. Her peaches and cream complexion with blue eyes and cropped short fair hair bespoke an English rose heritage. She could have easily made friends but something inside seemed to be stopping her from doing so.
It was a situation that in everyone's opinion needed remedying. At the age of 60 I was regarded as the 'Old man of the street.' And with this view of age came a perception of wisdom. It seems to me that wisdom is often confused with commonsense. Be that as it may people looked to me to do something about getting Samantha out of her shell.
Conversation with the lady tended to be one-way traffic it was difficult to get much more than a yes or no reply from her, it was as if she had built a defensive wall around herself, I felt that breaching fortress Samantha was going to be no easy task, I was soon to be proved wrong.
It was a stinking hot day and I was at the local supermarket buying some groceries, as I finished paying I looked up to notice that Sam was just leaving one of the other checkouts carrying a small bag of purchases.
I waited for her to draw level with me then said, 'I'll give you a lift home Sam.'
'No that's OK I can walk.' She replied.
'I wasn't asking Sam. I was insisting. It's far too hot to walk.'
'Well if you insist.' A smile lit her face. 'Then thankyou Jim I accept.'
Her smile turned to a look of dismay when we reached my transport. 'You're riding a motor-bike.' She gasped.
'Yeah, I thought that I'd give the car a rest.' I replied then before she could protest I opened the top box and whisked out the spare helmet and replaced it with our shopping.
Samantha looked at the helmet as if it were something alien. "I've never been on a motorbike.' She said.
Well then you're in for a real treat.' I replied as I fastened the helmet over her soft hair and lowered the visor. 'Hop on. Let's go. All you need do is go with the bike, when it leans, lean with it. It's that easy.'
As soon as Sam had settled behind me I hit the starter button and the 1200cc B.M.W. engine growled into life. Because it was her first time on a bike I took things easy but even so the bike got us home in half the time that it would have taken a car. A quick blip of the throttle at the traffic lights caused us to leave other traffic in our wake then we skimmed past slow moving queues of cars with ease.
When we reached Sam's place I pulled in to the kerb stopped the bike and twisted round to look at her. When she raised the visor her face was flushed. 'Oh that was so much fun.' She gasped. 'It was just exhilarating.'
I paused then asked. ' Is there anything in your shopping that needs refrigerating?'
'No.' she replied. 'It's just bread and vegetables'
'Then hang on tight. Now we're going for a real ride.'
'But I can't I have to cook dinner.' She protested
'I'll take care of that.' I replied then before she could say another word I started the bike hit the throttle and we roared off down the street.
In no time we had passed through the town and were headed down the highway. Now the Beemer came into her own, the growl from the engine turned to a snarl as we tore past a line of cars that had formed behind a lumbering road train. Then the snarl became a roar as we raced past the truck and headed for the open road.
A turn off had us passing through country roads that climbed into the mountains. It was here that the B.M.W. really came alive. There are a few bikes that will give the Beemer a run for her money when it comes to acceleration and top speed but none, in my opinion, that can live with her for handling. As we passed through winding mountain passes the bike swung easily from side to side and although we were close to dragging the footpegs along the bitumen the sure-footed machine never as much as twitched. Every time we came out of a bend into a straight. I gave the throttle a twist and the front of the bike became light as if she was trying to become airborne. Then a dab on the brakes would bring us back to a speed that could cope with the next series of bends.
Sam was a good pillion passenger, she had shuffled closer to me her arms were wrapped around me so that our weight was centrally located on the bike which made for better handling, But I couldn't help being aware of two very firm breasts that were pressing into my back
Only those who know and love motorbikes have experienced the sheer exhilaration that comes from such a ride. Samantha was taking the crash course. We swept down out of the mountains and made our way through vineyards where row upon row of tended vines marched in orderly processions along our route.
I turned into a winery that I knew to have a first class restaurant and came to a halt. Stopping the engine I dismounted and turned to help Sam from the bike. 'I told you that I would take care of dinner.' I said then indicated the restaurant, 'Dinner awaits my lady.'
Sam's face was animated, flushed and full of life, she tore of her helmet, threw her arms around me then stepped back and gave a loud whoop of sheer joy. 'I have never felt so alive, sooo.' She searched for a word then found it. 'So free, so utterly and beautifully freeee!' Then the lady who so recently had been reserved and withdrawn threw her arms wide spun in a circle then kissed me full on the lips and said. 'Thankyou Jim Thankyou.'
'The pleasure was all mine dear lady. Now shall we dine?'
It seemed to me that Sam's reaction to a motorbike ride was at least a little bit over the top. Once again I was soon to be proved wrong.
After studying the menu we both decided on Barramundi, which is a truly delicious Australian codfish. This was served with a fresh garden salad and accompanied by a lightly oaked Chardonnay that the winery was justly proud of. Sam appeared to be savouring every mouthful, closing her eyes and eating slowly as if trying to memorise every morsel.
'You are enjoying the food.' I commented.
'Ooh yes! It seems that now I'm free even my food tastes better.'
'Free?' I inquired.
'Yes Jim, free. You can never know what that ride on your bike meant to me. As we swooped through those mountain passes I felt...No! Became free for the first time in my life.' The heat of the day had caused her to perspire so that her breasts were sticking to her shirt and her excitement from the bike ride was making them heave in a very enticing manner. She continued. 'I have never been so alive and I want to savour every minute. Not just the food'
' But free?' I was becoming repetitious because her words were puzzling me. Samantha looked up from her food; saw my look of puzzlement then without raising her voice told me her story.
There had only been two men in her life, her father and her husband. Her father was a martinet, a man who firmly believed that children were to be seen and not heard. This to the extent that she had never been allowed to form an opinion of her own much less voice one. He was equally firm of the belief of not sparing the rod to spoil the child. The slightest disagreement with this tyrant was met by immediate and painful punishment. To make matters worse his wife was only able to have one child and to his eternal shame that child was not the son that he could have formed in his own image. Her mother had never enjoyed good health and passed away when Sam was five. Her father felt that someone should be punished for this and that someone was Samantha. He watched her like a hawk and if he as much as thought that she might have ideas that did not match his own then retribution was swift.
As she grew and reached her teens she naturally became aware of boys of her own age. Her father's reaction had been to literally lock her up. She was taken to and from school then later to work. Her job in an all female typing pool was a position within the company where her father worked. Where once again she was driven to and from work.
But it is in the nature of typing pools for the girls to chat during their breaks and when the work slackened off. It was during these chats that Sam learned that there was another side to life, a side that was both interesting and exciting, a side that involved having boyfriends. All of the girls it seemed had boyfriends, all except Sam that is.
Their relationships varied from those who had only recently met their man and those who had gone the whole hog and were now in a live together relationship. Sam was fascinated by all of their stories and even found herself becoming aroused when some of the senior girls talked at length of their sexual experiences.
But most exciting of all to Sam was that she could see that a man in her life would be her ticket out of her father's control. In her fervid imagination this man took on the persona of a knight in armour who would come to her rescue.
