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As much as I love riding solo, I have to say there are times when I want nothing more than to feel my ol' lady wrap her arms around my torso and mold herself to my backside. I find pleasure in reaching down and stroking her leg as we ride as one.
Enjoying the wind, the road and the scenery as it whizzes by, now that's the shit man, it's what life's all about... the ride. Today started out like that, two bodies riding the wind on the old iron horse of freedom.
This uniquely amazing moment has me on such a natural high. Like I'm being engulfed by physical and emotional freedom. We're like, explorers, and this day is all ours. It's such a beautiful morning, the air has that slight crispness to it, and the road is relatively void of other motorist.
I'm feeling it
Our first stop is for breakfast, a little mom and pop diner several miles south of town. We like to stop in every so often for the biscuits and gravy. When they call it a special, believe me, it's fucking special. Taste like heaven, better than granny used to make.
The couple that run the joint are a riot. I keep telling them to open up a comedy store and we would become regulars, Always quick witted, they constantly poke harmless fun at each other's expense while they work the room and register. Winking, grinning, making hand gestures behind each other's back. Everyone feels like they're involve in the fun, even strangers just passing through.
Good souls
The food is tasty homemade goodness on a stark white plate, but the atmosphere is the reason we return. I'm not a big fan of smiling, but this place brightens the old pearls despite my grumpy ass.
Stop smiling, you look like an idiot
Breakfast is as good as always, and like each time before, we are reluctant to leave. Placing a nice tip on the table, I stand up and offer my hand to my ol' lady. She's not used to this, so I understand the look of surprise on her face. It's just that kind of day.
Friendly goodbyes, and out to the parking lot we go, laughter ringing in our ears. Before we reach my bike, the ol' lady asks if we can stop at a flea-market about twenty two miles down the road. She says she can find something or other cheaper than the department store.
Here we go... she's thinking again
Even if we stopped we can't buy much, saddle bags aren't made for shopping trips. But hell, I'm feeling pretty damn good despite my usual irritable self. Might even go so far as to say I'm feeling a bit benevolent today.
What would it hurt
Instead of reminding her why it would be a waste of time, I'll tell her that suits me just fine. Her smile, already in place since exiting the diner, immediately widens and she throws her arms around my neck, pressing herself against me to plant a sloppy kiss between my mustache and beard.
I grab a handful of ass and tell her 'get on or go down" and she giggles and rubs her tits on my chest. This day is just gonna keep getting better and better.
I can feel it in my bone
I'll be the first one to admit that I'm an asshole. I'm demanding, condescending, and I'm always fucking right, especially when I'm not. She doesn't deserve even a quarter of the shit I throw in her direction, and more often than not, I go too far.
It's who I choose to be
Why she sticks with me, I'll never know. Hell, there's been a few times when I would have left myself. But here she is, settling in behind me, legs spread eagle as she scoots her bottom forward and pushes herself closer to me, arms wrapping themselves around my torso. We roll out of the parking lot and hit the open road.
I feel like a King
We're half-way to the flea-market now, and her bandanna just came loose. Before she can grab it, the wind snatches it, taking it for a freedom ride of its own. I can feel her sigh. She doesn't bother to ask.
She rarely does
I reach down and pat her leg, acknowledging her loss, but I don't turn around and go back for it. It wasn't one of her favorites, just one of the many generic extras she picked up on sale somewhere. Even I know a woman can never have too many bandannas. On second thought, maybe I could... nope, it wasn't one of her treasured Harley bandannas.
Fuck it, just ride
Maybe I'll surprise her, buy her a new one at the market, one that means something to her, maybe I'll find her a sexy little top to ride in too. Something that shows off her figure and allows me to feel her nipples on my back.
She deserves more than my infrequent, petty offerings, and I know it. Even so, she will be thrilled to accept whatever I present to her, as long as it comes from me.
Go figure
She's a beautiful person inside and out, and I treat her like shit most of the time, and still she stays. She comes in second to my old Harley, and she knows it. She nicknamed it 'Jezebel' and laughs at me when I tell her I'm taking my favorite bitch out ride. And yes, I ride off and leave her behind way too often.
Dick that I am
I'm not oblivious to the facts. I'm aware that the world is full of men just waiting for a chance to have a woman like her in their lives. No doubt, the line for her attention would circle the globe the minute she decides she's had enough of my bullshit. Any number of men would spend time and money on her, gratefully doing whatever it takes to keep a loyal and loving woman such as her by his side.
Knowing this to be true, I still find it impossible not to be an asshole. In all fairness to me though, I'm not just an ass to her, I'm an ass to everyone. It's my nature. But damn it, even I have my moments, and today I find myself enjoying this one.
Enjoy, it'll pass soon enough
Catching sight of her in my rear-view, smiling back at me as her hair blows wildly in the wind, her thighs tighten around me and I feel myself responding.
Suddenly, I have a urgent need to find a quiet back road. I need to get her ass out of those jeans and show her how much I appreciate her presence in my life.
Hell, the way I feel right now, I might actually come right out and say it.