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An Older Man’s Motorbike Did It

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Motorcycles were something that were greasy, unsafe, and to do with guys in leather. At least that’s the way it appeared to a girl of eighteen, and it proved to be partially correct… but first some context!

My name is Emmy, shortened from Emeline, a name I never forgave my parents for.

I lived in a large house about a mile from a small Cotswold village in England. It was the ‘chocolate box’ idyll you see on all those house hunting programmes on tv.

I’d ended college with some good results, and had a place at uni so the summer holidays were my last chance to enjoy home before gaining my freedom. I’d got a certain amount of freedom by borrowing mum’s car every now and again, but a lot of my friends from school were miles away, or had gone away on holiday.

I got into the habit of walking into the village to the one small coffee shop which was next door to the pub. Most of the folks in the village knew me, and I knew them. Marie was someone I often said ‘hello’ to because she delivered home made cakes to the coffee shop, and she lived just up the lane from me.

Dave her husband was a mechanic, who worked in his barn fixing anything mechanical. His passion was motorcycles, and he had several classic bikes, as well as a powerful day to day bike which often roared past our house. Like all mechanics his hands were often covered in oil or grease, and his finger nails were seldom clean. It fascinated me that he never seemed perfectly washed even when I saw him in the pub.

I’d finished school a couple of weeks before, and I was missing sex. You might have described me as horny, and there was a reason.

On the day of the college ‘farewell’ ball, at the end of term, I’d had sex with my boyfriend Nick in the afternoon, and then in the evening I’d caught him snogging a girl who I absolutely detested. Needless to say the evening ended unceremoniously, and he was toast.

I seemed to be masturbating every night, biting the pillow so as not to be heard by my mum and dad, and on a few of occasions I’d used my tiny vibrator when the house was empty.

It meant I had eyes for anything in trousers that looked under twenty five. When I saw Dave in the village even he looked good in his work overalls. He was in his late forties, just about six foot, and had quite a ‘strong’ body.

“Want a lift back, it looks like rain?” he shouted across the road.

It did look like rain, and he’d given me a lift in his van a few times before.

“Ok thanks, yes it looks pretty black over there,” I replied gratefully.

His van was a complete mess inside, empty cans, old sandwich wrappers, anything and everything. On this occasion he had a motorcycle in the back and the smell of oil and petrol was really strong.

I made a comment about the bike and he told me it was a nineteen fifties classic that he was ‘doing up.’

When he dropped me off at my gate he asked, “Have you ever been on a motorbike?”

I laughed, “No! it looks scary, I’ve seen how fast you go past here!”

“I’ll give you a ride if you like. Come up to the house sometime, Marie will tell you it’s ok.”

I looked at his dirty hands, and wondered how it could possibly be safe, but it did seem like something I ought try once. However, I knew my mum wouldn’t like the idea one tiny little bit.

A couple of days later I saw Dave in the village again.

“You gonna take that ride?” he yelled over. I walked over and filled him in about my mum.

“I think I might try, but I don’t want my mum finding out, I don’t think she’d approve.”

Dave smiled, his unshaven face beaming, I knew he was ‘looking me over.’ That particular day I was wearing some really tight shorts.

“If you come up in the morning we’ll go the other way up the lane. Wear some old gear, and not those!”

I was quite excited by the secrecy, it felt naughty even though it was something perfectly normal to Dave, and I felt an unusual thrill that an older guy was looking at my body. Next morning, wearing old jeans and a woolly top, I left home while mum was having her shower, and dad had already gone to work.

“Hello Emmy, go indoors and Marie’ll make you a cuppa, I’ll get my old BSA out, are you still up for it?”

I was clearly ‘up for it,’ I was there!

Marie had always been fun. I’d never understood how she could live with quite a ‘dirty’ character as Dave, there must have been something about him. She was younger than him, in her early forties, and very attractive in a country girl sort of way. No make-up, loose fitting clothes that hid her quite shapely body. However I’d definitely noticed men looking and lusting after her in the village, and in the pub.

“Tea?” she asked, already pouring hot water into the tea pot. “Dave’s quite excited you’ve taken up the challenge. You’ll be quite safe, I’ve lectured him. Told him not to go too fast. I know what he’s like when I go on the back.”

We sat chatting for a while, discussing his latest project, a battered old nineteen thirties Vincent. Marie was obviously Yeşilköy escort proud of Dave’s engineering skills.

“I think he’s a bit obsessed, he can turn his hand to so many things, I daren’t tell you.”

It seemed a slightly odd turn of phrase that somehow lodged in the back of my mind.

When he eventually entered the kitchen asking if I was ready, he actually went to the sink and washed his hands before fetching a crash helmet from the hall.

“Real ‘old school’ helmet,” he declared, holding it up, “with goggles!” He chuckled, and added, “you have to dress with the times.”

I stood up and Marie helped me on with the helmet, adjusting the strap under my chin. My long blonde hair spilled out underneath, and I imagined it trailing out in the slipstream.

“Ok, let’s go. I thought we’d go up the lane away from your house, so your mum won’t see us, then ride up to Willowbrook, and go up the hill to Maiden’s Mount, rather appropriate I guess.”

It was Marie’s chance to laugh, and with a “take care,” I followed Dave outside.

“Now let me get on and start it up,” he said.

He looped one leg over the bike, and kicked it into action. It seemed quite noisy, especially as he revved it up.

“Put your foot on that foot rest, and hop on.”

I clumsily straddled the leather seat behind Dave’s back, and he told me to put my arms around him. Marie was standing smiling, knowing how uncomfortable I felt clutching her husband.

“Ok, hold on,” and suddenly we were off bumping across the yard.

Once we got onto the tarmac in the lane it smoothed out, and I could feel the wind over his shoulder, and against my face. I heard Dave say something like, “you ok?” and I yelled back that I was, but he must have felt me holding him even tighter.

I’m sure we were going less than forty miles per hour, but it felt much faster. My heart was beating so fast, especially when the bike leaned over slightly at the first bend. My instinct was to try and lean upwards, however Dave yelled out, “relax, go with it.”

I did relax, I could feel the up and down roar of the engine coming through the whole bike, the texture of Dave’s leather jacket beneath my fingers, and the smell of the countryside being forced into my nostrils.

We reached the tiny village of Willowbrook, and turned down one of the small side roads that would take us up to Maiden’s Mount, a large Cotswold hill. The road surface out of the village was cobbled in places and the whole motor bike began to vibrate. I clung onto Dave until it got smoother, but bizarrely I had this flashback to my early days of horse riding.

I’d remembered the sensation I’d got a few times, with my pussy rubbing on the saddle, and I was having that same feeling from riding over the cobbles. It would normally have been dismissed out of my mind if the rest of the ride up the hill had been on tarmac, but the local council had decided to resurface the road because of potholes, and they’d scraped the old tarmac off before putting down the new.

“Sorry, I didn’t know they were doing this,” Dave shouted, as we slowed.

For the next three quarters of a mile the bike bucked and bumped its way up the incline. Even though I shifted my bottom slightly, I couldn’t stop the feeling in my pussy. Thankfully we reached the top and we both got off to admire the view.

“What did you think, I didn’t go too fast, sorry about the road surface.”

Dave couldn’t see my slightly flushed face below the helmet, so I made the appropriate reply, telling him how much I’d enjoyed it.

“We’ll have you riding by yourself soon!” he joked, before we set off back.

Again I made myself comfortable on the pillion, but I was apprehensive about my previous reaction on the outward journey. It all seemed a bit strange.

In a few hundred yards we reached the unmade tarmac, and the bike rumbled, and bumped over it. Whether Dave could feel me clutching him more tightly, I’m not sure, but in a panic I realised I was becoming aroused yet again.

Thankfully we were back on the smoother road surface before anything happened. Breathing more easily, I relaxed more, but I’d forgotten about the cobbles in the village.

It was only a short distance back onto the lane, Dave seemed to slow down even more. In moments of starting to ride over the cobbles I’d started to cum. The vibration, the roar of the engine seemed to make it all that much more intense, however I did manage to muffle my quiet groan.

The five minute ride along the lane back to Dave’s was a blur. When we pulled to a halt outside his cottage Marie was waiting. I wasn’t at all sure if my jeans had a damp patch on the crotch, I had to half hide my body sideways as I got off.

“How was that?” she asked, offering to take my helmet and goggles.

I must have looked really red in the face because she added, “you look as though you had a good time.”

I wasn’t sure if the glint in her eye recognised what had just occurred.

“Come on in, we’ll Yeşilyurt escort bayan have a glass of lemonade.”

“I’ll get on,” Dave said, “if you want another ride again just say so, or I could show you how to ride yourself in our paddock?”

I thanked him, and said, “maybe,” knowing that I really did want to try.

I followed Marie inside, and asked if I could use the bathroom. My jeans were fortunately still ok, but my panties were quite damp. When I returned to the kitchen Marie was forthright.

“You got a funny feeling didn’t you?”

I was so embarrassed, but Marie was being refreshingly open, and seemingly so relaxed that I replied, “Yes, it did have an effect, I wasn’t expecting that.”

She began laughing, “Dave knew exactly what he was doing, he’s done it to me often. He chose that bike, he chose that route because he knew it would do that.”

I must have gone bright red, partly because it had happened at all, and partly because Dave must have known I’d ‘cum.’

“Don’t worry, he’s not going to leap on you, I keep him under control, but I’m glad you enjoyed it. Please don’t be frightened away, we’re both relaxed about our various pleasures.”

I was warming even more to Marie. This was a whole new world of talking about sex, especially with someone of a different generation.

“Dave meant it, the teaching you to ride a motorbike. I know your parents might disapprove, but they needn’t know, if you come up here occasionally.”

I thought for a moment and responded, “Well they’re going to Greece for a fortnights holiday at the weekend, I was supposed to go, but I’m going away to Devon with them at the beginning of September. They are trusting me home alone!”

“Perfect,” said Marie, “I might even show you some of Dave’s projects.”

Somehow I knew that ‘projects’ didn’t mean necessarily bike stuff.

Smiling I said, “Ok, I’ll probably see you in the village before then, but I must get back now, thank you so much.”

As I walked back through the yard I yelled, slightly embarrassingly to Dave, “Thanks for the ride.”

“A pleasure,” he said smiling.

That evening in bed I pleasured myself again, thinking of what had happened earlier, and wondering about the relationship that Dave had with Marie. Did she really keep him ‘under control,’ and what were his special ‘projects?’

On the Friday of that week I was sent into the village to post a parcel for mum. As I left the post office Marie drew up in Dave’s van and we were able to chat.

“Dave and I were wondering if you’d come up on Monday, after your parents have gone away?” she said, “he really wants to get you riding.”

She could tell from my smile that the answer was “yes,” and we decided that I would go in the morning and stop for lunch.

When Monday came I was in a good mood, I had the house to myself, and was relishing the freedom, even though my mum was constantly texting me.

“Hello again.” Dave greeted me with a broad smile, and an oily slick across his right cheek.

“Just getting a bike ready, if you want to try it out in the paddock?”

“What do you think?” I answered, grinning from ear to ear.

He could tell by the way I was dressed in old jeans and a zippered jacket that I was prepared.

Marie and I had our cup of tea before Dave appeared in the kitchen.

“I’ve got this relatively new bike, it’s much less powerful, and easier to ride. Just put a helmet on, there won’t be any need for goggles.”

All three of us went outside, and Marie and I watched Dave ride the bike through a gate onto what he called a paddock. It was in fact a field of grass which he let out from time to time for sheep grazing.

This bike had much more of a high pitched whine, and Dave took a long time explaining clutch, accelerator, and brakes to me. It helped being able to drive a car, but of course there was also my balance to consider too.

I was unprepared for how we started. Dave got the bike going, and I got on. However, he straddled the bike too, sitting on the tiny pillion seat behind me and reaching round to hold the handle bars beside my hands.

It felt awkward, and I wasn’t sure if we were going to ride like that, or it was just him showing me how to start off. I could feel his body up against backside, and that felt awkward too, but as it turned out we only travelled a few yards like that before he got off and told me, “off you go!”

The first thing I did was stall it, letting the clutch out too quickly, but then I did get going and very tentatively went up the field at probably no more than ten miles an hour.

Marie cheered and as I grew more confident, I increased the speed. Very quickly I was travelling around the field quite normally. After fifteen minutes I stopped beside them, and we all congratulated one another.

“You fancy a go on my Yamaha?”

“What’s that?” I asked ignorantly.

“My trials bike, it’s a little more powerful, but lots of fun.”

“Why not,” I said, Escort Zeytinburnu I’d now got the taste and wanted more.

As we waited for Dave to fetch the Yamaha, Marie said she’d go and prepare lunch. When he arrived back, I realised what a different beast this bike was.

After stalling it twice, I got the hang of the clutch and set off.

This bike was far less comfortable, a much narrower, more uncomfortable saddle, and Dave had not really explained that most of the riding was meant to take place standing up.

I set off up the field sitting down. The springs were much tighter, and it seemed to be much more responsive. At first I was concentrating on balance and controlling the throttle, and the speed was gradually building up. I loved it, and then I felt that feeling again.

It actually made me stand up, which was the best way to ride it, but I found myself pushing my crotch back down, and enjoying the sensation. Whether Dave knew, probably he did, but I kept doing circles at the far end of the field until I brought myself off.

“Fuck,” I said under the noise of the engine before regaining my composure, and riding back to Dave.

“Good isn’t it? I reckon it wouldn’t take much for you to pass your test.”

“Hmmm,” I replied, “I don’t think there’s much hope of that, if mum knew what I was doing, she’d have a fit!”

We both laughed and Dave wheeled the bike back towards the shed.

“Can I look inside your workshop?”

Dave said, “Yes, of course,” and ushered me inside.

It was an Aladdins cave, numerous bikes in various states of assembly, and a vast array of tools and machinery, and that familiar aroma of engine oil.

“What’s in there?” I asked, pointing to a padlocked door.

“Oh, that where I keep the work on my projects.”

I thought it odd that he didn’t offer to show me, but I didn’t press the question.

Lunch was wholesome, home made bread, cheese, some pork pie, and a salad mainly of lettuce, watercress, and tomatoes. Marie and I had some cider, but Dave had to drive that afternoon so he had lemonade.

He soon disappeared, going to pick up a bike that had been in an accident, and the guy had phoned him up because a mutual friend suggested Dave did a good job.

I helped Marie with the dishes, before we sat outside chatting in the sun.

“What do you think of motorbikes?” she asked.

“They’re certainly thrilling,” I replied simply.

“In more ways than one.”

Marie’s intonation was deliberate, and she caught my eye. As I glanced away guiltily she went on, “It made you cum the other day, did it have the same effect this morning?”

Going red hot, I replied croakily, “Yes, it did.”

Laughing, Marie explained.

“First time I met Dave, he took me for a ride, it got me so worked up I let him fuck me straightaway.”

I relaxed a bit because she was being so open about it. Emboldened I asked, “Does it still happen?”

Occasionally, but I prefer the comforts of riding in a car or van these days. Dave has other ways of satisfying me now.”

I went quiet, not wanting to know the finer details of their sex life, but Marie continued.

“I told you he’s a brilliant engineer, some of his projects would make your toes curl.”

Marie could see my puzzlement, and I could tell that she was unsure what to say next. The generation gap kicked in, even though I’d shared my motorbike orgasm with her, I was still an eighteen year old neighbour whose parents she’d known for several years.

“I can’t really imagine…” my words drifted away.

Marie must have decided to go for broke.

“Knowing what’s happened with you on the bike, tell me, do you ever use a vibrator at home?”

Even Marie was blushing now.

“I do, but it’s difficult using it at home, the sound I mean.”

Immediately she felt easier with my open admission. She laughed nervously.

“When we first got married Dave found out about my collection, he didn’t seem to mind me using them, in fact he became fascinated at how they worked and it was fun sharing them.”

Marie saw my interest growing.

“It sounds as though you have a cupboard full!”

It was me chuckling now.

“I do, would you like to see them all?”

It was an odd question, but seeing me smile she said, “C’mon.”

I followed her upstairs. The bedroom was a bit untidy, and she asked me to ignore that, taking me over to a chest of drawers. Opening the middle drawer, my eyes popped out on stalks when I saw the array of toys.

Marie heard my intake of breath, and she picked up one of them. I didn’t really want to touch it, but she held it up, switching it on. The buzz was increased and decreased as she turned the control knob.

“Wow!” I was guessing there must have been over a dozen more in the drawer.

“These are all ones I’ve bought online, or Dave has bought for me, but why I mentioned Dave’s projects is that he has been building bigger ones.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, “you can’t take any bigger than that!” I said pointing at a huge black dildo.

Marie dissolved in laughter.

“NO! I meant machines that can sort of bring you off when you sit on them, or use them in… well… an intimate way.”

This seemed a whole new world. I suddenly had a mental picture of some weird contraption doing all sorts to you.

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