The Motorcycle Guy and Di

Charlie Chol scratched his unruly brown hair feeling a little uneasy. Finishing depositing some of the beer he'd consumed against the wall disfigured with graffiti, he shook off the clinging droplets and placed his best friend away and zipped up.

It was the other use of his best friend that was the problem. Charlie appeared to be losing interest in females. Deeply disturbed about that Charlie mounted his motorcycle but the key wouldn't fit. Was he drunk? Of course not, he thought. Wrong bike. Right model but wrong color. His was red.

Charlie rode out of town and into the sunset, at least where the sunset had been captured in the woolly clouds four hours earlier. Or was it five? Christ his mom would clobber him and serve his dinner cold, being so late. So he called her and said he was okay and would stopover for the night somewhere more convenient and where he wouldn't be berated for arriving home late.

His mom said good night Charlie sweet son. Keep safe.

Er, did she say good night Charlie you loser? Fucking phones. Why don't they make them so a guy could hear with the bike engine ticking over?

He had three places that he'd be welcomed to bed down, usually. But Aunt Peg's live-in pal was a nasty type, a complete wastrel, and was home from the oilfields so he wouldn't go there and Keyhole Pete said he was calling in on Widow Jamieson tonight so would give her a miss. Instead he went to the home of his sister Anna and husband Jason.

Jason was asleep so he got a good fuck although Anna complained that he smelt of beer. Anna was always complaining about something. But being a great babe she cleaned up she made him bacon and egg sandwiches, his favorite.

Munching away Charlie said, "I've got woman trouble."

Anna pricked up her ears. "Oh, who have you gotten pregnant?"

"No one you idiot. Unwanted pregnancies are no longer considered fashionable."

"Fashionable is a big word for you."

Charlie ignored the slur. "Nah I mean I was banging this slut last night -- I think you know her, Milly Brown's eldest."

"God Charlie, she's a baby. Only eighteen. And what are you -- forty?"

"Stupid cow. You are forty and I'm thirty-five."

"Oh yeah."

"Well the little tramp pulled out her cell phone and called a friend while we were doing it, ignoring me completely. Then Averill...um...what's her surname?"

"God, you mean our minister's daughter?"

"Yeah, you know I like to plow new ground. But that's the one. Anyway, I was at it so long because she wasn't moving or squeezing me and then she put me right off when she pulled out her file and began doing her nails. These babes today who call themselves hot are a real turn-off."

"Either that or you are the turn-off."

"What was that?''

"Nothing."

Charlie swatted a mosquito digging into the side of his nose and the blow made his eyes water. "Well, whatever. None of them are a patch on you."

"Oh darling, care to go again? I'm open and extra moist."

"Okay, it's an alternative to going to bed and sleeping."

Anna gave Charlie some advice next morning as he prepared to ride off to his motorcycle store, with his wimpy brother-in-law glaring at him. "Darling, try a woman my age. If they don't have cooperating brothers by the time they're forty they are thinking their days of getting it are numbered, that is if they ever think about sex."

Charlie was thinking about it when he ran into the back of a cop stopped at a red light. The cop got out, ticket book in his hand, took one looked at Charlie and said, "Oh Christ, not you." Checking that the motorcycle tire had not even left a mark on the bumper of the patrol SUV Sergeant Billings winked at Charlie and returned to his vehicle just as the lights changed. Charlie belted on around the sergeant giving him the fingers and received acknowledgement with a brief blare of the siren and a five second flash of lights that cleared the way ahead for Charlie, considered by many as Summerville's most-loved character. A quarter of the town's population rode bikes sold by Charlie. His competitors had gone broke.

* * *

One afternoon a curvaceous thirty-something came in and said she wanted a motorcycle and patted a black and chrome tourer and said, almost shyly, "This big one is for me. I fancy getting my thighs around him I mean it."

"Really?"

"Oh yes."

"Look ma'am, come out with me and I'll demonstrate a similar big bike that has been knocked around a bit. Now I put it over on its side like this and let's see if you could lift it provided you managed to wriggle out from under it without any more damage than torn leather trousers and a tear in your derrière or perhaps you were safely thrown off as you toppled...do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes of course but why are we talking derrière?"

Charlie delivered his killer smile at quarter throttle. "I haven't had a good look at yours yet."

She blushed and said she'd been warned about Charlie Chol.

"Hi, and you are...?"

"Diana Banks, um recently divorced."

"And he got the car?"

"And the boat and a wad of money but I got the house."

Good for you Di. Now about your derrière, I mean your small accident? Pick up the bike Di and prepare to ride off."

"God it's heavy. How the fuck do you expect me to lift this?"

"What your language Di, you're a schoolteacher at Westbank school aren't you?"

There wasn't a female aged 20 to 45 in the county that Charlie hadn't details about in his memory bank.

Diana looked pleased he knew of her vocation. "Yes, and I apologize for my bad language. As you can guess I'm a little stressed."

"Of course. Fred Japps told me about you. Said you were..."

"Hush Charlie. He's the one who brought on my divorce, the loud-mouth swine."

Charlie lifted the bike with effort and pulled it back on to its stand.

"Look Di, save your money for a car but in the meantime let's look at this little beauty down here -- watch your derrière on the handlebars as it's crowded in here because showroom space comes at a cost. This stylish 125 cc scooter is fitted with an under-seat shopping lockable grill stowage area plus a parcel tray behind the seat. I'll toss in an old girl friend's helmet and gloves and reduce the price, just for you, to $500."

"Only five hundred bucks?"

"It's second-hand and I'm being generous and it comes with a full year's warranty. Honest darling, it's made for you."

"Darling?"

"Don't mind, that's just salesmanship. What about it?" asked Charlie, idly stroking the front of his jeans and that action caught Diana's eye.

"Oh lovely. I'll take it. How can I reward you?"

Charlie licked his lips. Diana giggled. "First you'll have to take me to dinner."

They decided Saturday night suited.

"Now, how do I ride this cute machine?"

"Did you ride a tricycle as a kid?"

"Yes."

"Well you can ride this machine. Now, allow me to demonstrate. First lesson: the front handbrake. Goodness, is that all you up there?"

"Yes, those are my breasts, no padding or inserts but Charlie ought you be talking to me like this amid an operational demonstration?"

"No, of course not. I apologize. Now let me get my mouth around...this is the horn."

"God Charlie, you are such a character."

Chomping through a piece of steak on Saturday night Charlie almost blew a gasket when Diana said sweetly: You know Charlie, in going through the trauma of divorce I thought I'd never get a man to look at me again at my age..."

"Which is?"

"Thirty-five."

"Are you sure?"

"Thirty-six and that's the truth. Here, look at my ID..."

Charlie said he believed her, to stop digging in her handbag. He placed another piece of steak into his mouth and before he had time to close his mouth Diana said, "I've got so much to give you Charlie."

Charlie choked.

Diana reached in front of her plate delicately and handed back Charlie his piece of steak.

They kissed and grappled in the entrance to Diana's house as soon as she closed the door they fell to the floor and she struggled to unzip him while he battled to undo the hooks of her bra.

The practical schoolteacher said, "Look Charlie, you unzip and dig it out for me and I'll release my boobies."

It was a successful cooperative approach toward the commencement of sex.

"Oh my, what big ones," Charlie marveled.

"Oh what a big one," Diana breathed, looking at what spilled out beyond her hand.

They were entirely on the same wavelength.

Diana's eyes opened wide and her nostrils twitched as Charlie slowly fed it in.

"God, I haven't had anything up there for nigh on fourteen months."

Being familiar about mechanics, Charlie volunteered information: "It's a wonder the whole thing hasn't seized up for the want of lube."

"I suppurate naturally."

"Huh?"

"It doesn't matter lovely man, keep going. Oooh, I can feel it."

Charlie heard mewing and thought it was a cat. He was unaware Diana's hard-ass ex-husband had taken the cat to deprive Diana.

Diana now owned a 125cc scooter but on her back on the floor she performed as if powered by a V8. She bucked and wobbled sideways so violently that Charlie wished he'd taken over his steel-capped riding boots as they would be scrapping a huge area of the polished floor. Desperately he tried to stay with her; it was like riding motocross. He shot his load thirty-seconds after the start and totally humiliated dropped his head into the pit between her heaving breasts.

"Thank you darling for giving me that burst -- I felt it hit my cervix."

"Huh?"

The good lady pepped him up: "You'll have heaps more where that came from, so let's go racing."

Pride restored Charlie powered up and soon had Diana performing as if she were floating through the rafters singing an aria. Actually she was singing, one of the filthiest song he'd ever heard, her face growing redder by the second. Suddenly his crotch was drenched and they began slithering over the floor. Charlie had to slam the toes of his boots into the floorboards to stop them crashing into the cabinet displaying ye olde family china.

"Oh God Charlie, you saved the day," she screamed into total climax that left her like a limp doll.

Charlie was stuffed, so tossed her his handkerchief and went home.

"God, why are you home so early you unreliable asshole -- it's Saturday night," said his mom, holding a towel around her. Behind her Charlie saw the leering face of Keyhole Pete who was giving Charlie the 'fuck off' hand sign. Charlie grinned and went to his room without supper and dreamed of the most wonderful schoolteacher within a hundred miles from anywhere.

Charlie was awakened by the sound of Keyhole Pete driving off at 6:00 -- he recognized the pitch of the exhaust of the battered pickup and thirty minutes later he heard his father arrive home after night-shift. At 10:00 he wearily reached for his phone to hear, "Hello lover."

God, she was still willing to talk to him.

"How's pussy?"

"My ex-husband snatched him. Oh...oh...I get what you are talking about. I awoke sadly to find it not filled."

"Um, sorry about the gouges to the hallway."

"Don't worry -- I'll get the surface redone and send you the bill. Like to come by around noon? I'll have a lunchbox packed and some beers and you can take me for a ride."

"Yeah," Charlie croaked. "You're my kind of woman."

* * *

As with 7.38% of romances, this one had a happy ending. Diana was fired from her job at the school for refusing to stop cohabitating with the most undesirable man in the entire community. Obviously no one on the school board rode a motorcycle.

Charlie sent Diana off to a HD training school where she won a 105th Anniversary Harley-Davidson women's jacket for topping the course. Charlie then put her on the latest model Sportster 1200L and told her to go forth and sell motorcycles. Within two years a quarter of women in the county had an HD and a whole new culture grew around those women who ranged from whores with missing teeth to wealthy rancher's wives with teeth by Dior. Diana refused to sell to men, telling them to go and see Charlie.

Today Charlie and Diana have two kids. They haven't married because Dianna didn't want to risk going through another divorce. All but two of the teachers at her old school ride HDs and Diana chairs the board and is the town's deputy-Mayor.

With astute business vision Charlie sent Keyhole Pete away to train as an HD mechanic and Pete no longer has to prowl around looking for lonesome women. He operates as a home-call mechanic driving a new red and yellow pickup with four variable pitch exhaust pipes. That means Pete often spends all day servicing a bike and the female client but that's no problem to Charlie because Pete's time is charged out for the total time spent on the job.

Diana calls in at the shop most days at noon for her servicing and Charlie is so happy these days he's putting on weight and has just handed across $1.25 million to the local Ford dealership to take over the complete franchise operation for Ford trucks. That was Diana's idea and she'd said she could borrow the money from her dad. She fainted when Charlie told her how much money he had stashed away. In typical fashion of a woman, when she came around her first words were, "24k gold jewelry."

In typical male fashion Charlie replied: "No way baby". Diana is refusing to take that as a no and is teaching daughter Mickey (3) to say, "Mommy needs jewels."

THE END