Learning to Love Another Ch. 06

Even louder ooh-ing and ahh-ing and applause commenced.

I got back to my office and opened the envelope Gayle had put into my hand. I looked at the number. Then I sat down and looked at it some more. Then I called Angel.

"Elain -- everything ok?"

"Better than ok. I just got a huge cash bonus for the project I finished early."

"Yay! That's great!"

"Can you come visit this weekend?"

"I think so... what's up?"

"I'm going to buy a new bike, and I need you."

"Ahhh, the game is afoot!"

I could hear the predatory smile in her voice. Price negotiations are a combat sport to Angel.

"Plus, you'll get to meet Tess."

"I'll definitely be there."

*****

"I can't tell you how excited I am to meet her," Angel bubbled as she drove me over to Tess's house on Saturday morning. "I know she's wonderful from hearing you talk about her, but that's not the same as experiencing her first-hand."

Tess had left very early that morning and wheeled up to my place in her SUV by 9am. I had already been for my swim, showered, shaved, and made myself ready to go bike shopping complete with a bit makeup and a cleavage enhancing top. We were due to pick up Tess by 9:30am, and all I had to do was gather my gear while Angel got a bathroom break and a fresh bottle of water.

"She's nervous," I forewarned.

"Whatever for?"

"She knows how much I love you, and she wants to make a good impression. On the other hand, she's become very possessive of me."

"And she's worried about sharing you. I get that."

"I knew you would. She's one of us, you'll see."

"And you love her, and that's most important."

Tess met us in the driveway, a sign I took that she wasn't ready to let Angel 'inside' yet. I also knew that Angel would read it the same way. I hopped out of Angel's SUV and hugged Tess, then walked her over to Angel as she came around the driver's side.

"I have been so excited to meet you! The person who makes Elain so happy is clearly an extraordinary woman. May I hug you?"

Tess met her eyes and smiled, then allowed herself to be swept into one of Angel's incredibly soft hugs. They had both worn cleavage enhancing tops as well. It was to be a coordinated strike on the motorcycle establishment.

"I could nearly have said exactly the same thing to you," Tess replied when they separated. "But I would like to add, 'You cannot love a thing without wanting to fight for it.'"

"G.K. Chesterton," said Angel after a moment. "But sin is when you treat people as things."

"Sir Terry Pratchett, by way of Granny Weatherwax," said Tess.

Angel turned to me, "Oh, I like this girl. If she decides you're too much trouble, can I keep her?"

"Not a chance, sugar," said Tess and re-hugged Angel, less stiffly this time.

After that, Angel held her at arm's length and looked her up and down. Then she spun her with the ease of a practiced dancer, a move Tess automatically followed through because she was also a practiced dancer (Certificate of Completion in Ballroom Dancing -- Second Level remember).

"Elain told you I'm plain spoken?"

"Straight talk only. I think we both got that from her."

"Good," replied Angel. Then to me, "You've told me how incredible she is, but you didn't get the full scope of how incredibly smoking hot she is. Park yourself on this woman's face and never get up."

Tess blushed, and I smoothly replied, "It had occurred to me, but then I'd miss out on one of my favorite things."

"That's what sixty-nining is for, of course!"

We both looked at Tess from whom that last had come.

Angel repeated, "Oh, I like this girl."

"Focus ladies," I interjected. "Off to the Honda dealership?"

Off we went, and things went downhill from there. Not between Angel and Tess, but for me.

*****

"Nope," said Angel. "You look like your out of control sitting still. It doesn't fit you."

"What?" I said incredulously from the saddle of a beautiful, red, sixth generation VFR800.

"I have to say, I agree," said Tess. "Something isn't right about it."

"But I had narrowed everything down to this one!" I said.

"On paper or in person?" asked Angel.

"Mostly on paper," I answered weakly.

"So, this was to be a final butt check only?"

"Yeah," I felt close to tears. "I figured it was perfect."

"Sorry, baby. It isn't the one."

"If I didn't trust you both so much, I'd be cursing you both right now. But I just feel sick."

"That's the trouble with emotionally bonding with a decision before you make it, sugar," said Tess and put an arm around me as I dismounted.

"I know, but... well... shit."

"Well, what else do they have?"

I sat on Honda CBR 600s, and I sat on Kawasaki Ninja 600s, and I sat on a Yamaha R6 and a YZF600s. All were ruled out. Then we drove to Suzuki, and I sat on a GSXR-600 and GSXR-750. Nope and nope. By this time, I was agitated to tears again, and we decided to suspend the search in favor of lunch. Why did I drag you readers through all that? Because what happened at lunch and after was so interesting that I thought you would like to know.

We were eating at a local sandwich place that Tess and I liked and talking through options of what to do next. Angel was using her fancy phone to look for other motorcycle dealerships in town. We were eating, and I noticed a short, round, pretty, older lady sitting at a neighboring table. She was noticeable because she had long flowy grey blonde hair and was wearing a faded black dress -- out of place in a sandwich shop on a Saturday morning. She had a half-eaten sandwich next to her and was concentrating on riffling through a stack of what looked like postcards and making notes in a spiral notebook.

"What do you know about Ducati motorcycles?" asked Angel.

"Huh?" I said returning my attention to our own table.

"Ducati. What do you know about them? There's a dealership not far away."

"I know it, but I've never been there. My friend IceMan rides a Duc. He said they handle like they're machined out of a single block of aluminum and that they break all the time. He loves his, but he says it's fiddly to work on. They are supposed to be really elegant machines, but I've never looked seriously at them."

"Might be time to look at some European engineering?"

"Hell, if I'm back at square one deciding what to get, it couldn't hurt."

Angel lifted her cup in the signal for a toast. Tess followed with her cup, and I did with mine. We touched them together.

"The game is afoot!" said Angel.

There was a cackle from the old lady at the neighboring table that made us pause with our cups in the air. There was no other way to describe that laugh except as a cackle; it was contagious and made us all smile. She hopped down from her stool, and I was surprised to see how short she really was. She tossed her sandwich trash and then swung by our table on the way out the door. She dropped one of the post cards in front of me, and in a voice even more Southern than Tess, she drawled, "Here you go, daahling. Follow the crow."

Then she walked out the door, got into a battered old jeep, and was gone. I looked at the postcard and discovered that it was actually a tarot card -- the Three of Cups, which pictures three women (one brunette, one blonde, and one redhead) dancing and raising cups in the air. Huh... on the back was a hand drawn doodle of a rose and a phone number in bright blue ink.

"What is it?" asked Tess.

"It's us," I said and showed them the card.

"Who was that? Did you know her?" asked Angel after she and Tess examined the card.

"You quoted Granny Weatherwax earlier," I said.

"Yes?"

"I think that was Nanny Ogg."

Aside -- Granny and Nanny are characters in Sir Terry Pratchett's beloved Discworld Series. We were all fans (as all smart people should be), and I encourage you to dive into it if you have the time.

*****

We pulled into the Ducati dealership a short while later, and I saw that it was also Triumph and Vespa dealership. That was interesting from the European motorsports point of view at least. The first thing we saw upon entering was the Ducati showroom, and I have to admit, they were impressive.

An older lumpy guy limped in from a back room to assist us and was very nice and patient once he understood that I really was a rider looking to upgrade. I really liked the model 749S, and it fit well, but even at the last year's model price (which was the last year it was offered), it was a lot more than I wanted to spend. The next offering was the Supersport 800, which was similar in look to the Honda VFR and was within my price range, but Angel and Tess said they had the same feeling about it as the VFR and that it didn't fit me either. It didn't feel quite right to my butt either. Scratch that one, then. I then climbed on the brand new 1048, and it felt amazing, but was priced way above my limit and was way too big as well. Shit. None of the Ducati Monster models were appealing to me either, and I was rapidly losing hope again.

"I'm just not seeing what I'm looking for," I admitted to the lumpy dealership guy. "I really thank you for your time, though."

"No problem, I hope you find what you're looking for," he said.

On an impulse, I asked, "Triumph doesn't have anything like this do they?"

As far as I knew Triumphs were retro, café, classic, and cruiser bikes only. In fact, I only really knew about Bonnevilles from Ethan and from Papa G, and that's what I could see through the archway into the other showroom in the dealership.

"Oh yeah," he said. "In here."

He walked me over into the other side, and there she was. The room was dominated by an enormous black Triumph Rocket III in the back corner and bounded by cruisers on one wall and Tiger models on the other, but right in the center of the room with track lights trained on it was a brand new, 'tornado red' Triumph 675 sport bike. It looked so sexy that if it was chocolate, I would have eaten it. All that was missing was the chorus of angels singing hallelujah when I saw it. Instead I got the next best thing, Angel and Tess simultaneously breathing, "Whoaaaah!"

A phone was ringing somewhere, so the dealership guy had to shuffle off in a hurry. He slapped me on the shoulder encouragingly before he left.

"I gotta get that. My name's Crow. Holler if you need something."

My name's Crow. Follow the crow. Holy shit.

I put a leg over her, and she fit like a lover. Oh my goodness, it was love from the moment my pussy touched the saddle. Both Angel and Tess were giving me vigorous thumbs up, when a different older guy appeared and came over.

"Hi, I'm Milt," he said. "I'm the manager. Crow told me you might need help. Let me brace the front wheel so you can get both feet on the pegs."

He locked his knees on either side of the front wheel, and I set both feet back on the pegs and squeezed my thighs around the tank. Oh yeah. This was my ride. No question about it. You know when you know, you know?

"How long have you ridden?" asked Milt, probably staring down my cleavage since it was big and practically in his face.

"About two years. I started on a Kawi 125, and I've also done time on dirt and on a big Kawi Nomad. I've also owned a Ninja 250 for over a year."

"Ever had a drop?"

"Only on dirt. Broken rib and some torn skin from a front end wash out. No big deal."

Milt nodded, "About how many miles have you put on the Ninja?"

"About 15,000. It's my daily commuter, and I ride almost every weekend."

"Solid. Do you have MSF credit?"

"Yup. Basic Rider Course credit."

"Go back and take the Advanced when you can. It will keep your insurance down. Now, how does this 675 feel?"

"Like it was made for me."

"Financing?"

"Cash."

"Indeed? Did you bring gear?"

"You know it."

"Wanna go for a short test ride? It's slow, and Crow can mind things for fifteen minutes. I'll hop on my Daytona and go with you."

Twenty minutes later, you could have wrung out my panties, and Milt knew it. The 675 was everything I wanted and so much more, and Milt was satisfied that I knew what I was doing. I handed him off to Angel to talk numbers, while Tess and I watched Crow prep the bike for me to take delivery. It turns out he was the repair shop guy, so that meant a stem to stern re-torqueing of every fastener (with a wrench dialed in Newton-Meters, because Triumph), suspension set up, chain lube and tensioning, full fluid and pressures check, and a top of with new gas. By the time Crow was done, Angel was satisfied, and Milt was happy. I wrote the largest check I had written in my life at that point and became a Triumph owner.

"Do NOT violate the placarded break-in instructions," admonished Crow and pointed at the sticker on the tank. "I do not want to see this bike again before normal service intervals."

"Where to?" I asked the ladies.

"Back to your place to secure the bike and then dinner?" suggested Angel.

"Sounds good," said Tess and I together.

"Here you go," said Milt coming back from his office and handing me a folder of paperwork. She's all yours. Congratulations!"

Out of giddiness, adrenaline, and mischief, I hugged him, making sure to really squish my tits onto him. Then Tess hugged me, kissed me full on the mouth, and said, "Congratulations, sugar."

Angel shook Milt's hand, pulling him a little too close for normal personal space, gave him a particularly lascivious wink, and said, "Thanks for working with me on the numbers."

I think Milt nearly came in his pants.

Aside -- Every single detail of that was true. It is my sincere hope that my readership is large enough that one of you has been in the European motorcycle dealership I described here (around 2007) and has met or knows Milt and Crow. If so, you know this is a real place and real people and can probably visualize the dealership as clearly as I can.

*****

We garaged my new bike, christened "Tornado", next to "Rocket" and went inside my place so I could put regular clothes back on, which in this case meant back into my cleavage enhancing top and jeans. Then we all piled into Angel's SUV, and she took us to a family owned Italian restaurant that her boyfriend Eric had recommended. How he knew about it, I don't know, but it was by far the best we had eaten in town, and I wondered how we had missed it prior to this.

By this time Angel's and Tess's individual magnetisms had found complimentary polarity (if you'll excuse the pun) and they were thick as thieves. We left the restaurant all holding hands, which elicited some stares of lust and envy from other patrons, but it was the end of a particularly glorious day. I felt like all of the good things in my life were aligning. The two people I loved most in my world (outside of my parents) were bonding; my employer adored and appreciated me; I had a belly full of the best baked ziti I had ever tasted; and a gorgeous new red motorcycle was quietly purring in my garage.

Tess insisted we go back to her place after that (that's how quickly Angel became 'in') for a standard popcorn and pajama movie night. I think we watched Time Bandits, but I'm not sure if I conflated that with something we talked about instead. After Angel had marveled over the house, and Tess had walked us all back to her bedroom, what I do remember for sure is the following:

"You two go ahead, I didn't bring any pajamas. I don't honestly own any."

"Angel, sugar. I do have a PhD. I'm not entirely dim."

If Tess calls you 'sugar', you're ok. She handed Angel a gift bag, out of which she produced a new pair of burgundy flannel pajamas. She had just met Angel that day but had thought far enough ahead to get her something that was not only in her size but also in a color that brought out the beautiful brown of her eyes. That's is the type of planner Tess is.

"Every minute I spend with you shows me more and more why Elain fell in love with you," said Angel with palpable emotion. "You are a wonder, Tess."

Tess blushed and kissed her on the cheek. Then the microwave popcorn beeped (like it always seems to do at this type of moment) and startled us out of the spell.

"Well, I figured you would just spend the night here with us, so you needed something nice to spend it in. You left early this morning to be here, so I know you must be tired."

"How comfortable are you with me, Tess? Really?"

"That you are in my house should tell you everything. I am an excellent judge of character, and well... you come highly recommended," smiled Tess and glanced at me.

"I need an answer, baby."

If Angel calls you 'baby', you're ok. I just stood by, unsure of where this was going, though.

"I am completely comfortable with you."

"And we've established that I'm plain spoken."

"Straight talk."

Angel held up the pajamas, "I love them, and I want to keep them, but I'd be more comfortable naked under a blanket, if that is ok?"

"Of course."

"Really?"

"Angel, sugar, if you ask one more time, I'll think you don't trust me."

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds before I interjected, "I'm up for the naked plan!"

Tess and Angel both burst out laughing, and I explained, "Angel doesn't wear underwear or clothes if she doesn't have to. The year and a half we were roommates in college, we sometimes wouldn't get dressed at all on weekends."

"I never grew out of it," Angel added.

"Well, neither did I," I said.

"I can be comfortable with that as long as it's not weird for you, Angel. I mean Elain and I are in a relationship."

"I'm the one who suggested it, and it's unlikely that you'll be having sex in front of me; and even if you chose to, I wouldn't mind that either. I'm more concerned about intruding on you two. This is your house, and I would be the naked weirdo guest intruding on your intimacy."

"You are invited and welcome, clothed or not, sugar."

"Enough dammit!" I interjected. I took Tess's chin in my hand and kissed her. "You - stop over-thinking it. She's my sister, and she's safe, and she's hetero, and - honestly - she's fucking gorgeous. Enjoy the show.

"You," I said, turning to Angel. "You're not intruding on anything, and we'd tell you if you were. Now get your tits out. You'll feel better."

"Naked movie night it is," laughed Tess.

Without further hesitation, we all began to strip. Tess's eyes widened when Angel's F-cup breasts were released from her bra.

"Ur leiwand," murmured Tess. "You are incredible."

"Thank you, baby. Good eating, swimming, and yoga."

"Waxed?" asked Tess, and I noticed that Angel's pussy was smooth as silk.

"Yes, I started doing it as a thirtieth birthday present to myself, and I really love it. I'm trying to talk Eric into it as well. I might go for laser in the future."

"I'm still just trimmed," I said, dropping my panties to the floor to reveal my short red bush. My E-cups had already bounced free.

"It looks good on you," said Angel.

"I just trim as well," said Tess as her panties hit the floor.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen a blonde pussy?" said Angel.

Tess is a natural blonde, and a very pale one at that. Her skin is porcelain-like (contrasting to my pale and freckly self), and as I previously mentioned her 'intimate skin' as Angel would put, it is pale pink. Her coloring always puts me in mind of bubble-gum, and she has a very natural sweet flavor to her, but she doesn't like the bubble-gum analogy. Her point of view is that it only emphasizes people's first impressions that she's ditzy -- which I think we can all agree, she isn't. Her big eyes and DD tits don't help.

"You're so pretty!" continued Angel.

"Thank you, sugar. It's weird to be in such company that I have the smallest breasts in the room."

I started to giggle like an idiot.

"What?" from Tess.

"The Three of Cups. The Three of Very Full Cups."