Mystic Seaport

Kate and I usually travel two-up on one bike. We rarely tour with others because it's tough to find another couple, let alone a group, who are in sync with what we want to do any given day. A long trip becomes a series of annoying compromises with a group. We also miss a lot of opportunities to meet locals along the way. We don't have to compromise when it is just the two of us.

Occasionally, though, we'll meet another couple along the way. If we seem compatible we invite them to ride along for awhile. That was the case with Brett and Ellie, a young couple from Virginia on their much delayed honeymoon. We met them at a gas stop in the town of Mystic, Connecticut. He was 34, the same age as me. She was 19; definitely a child bride. Kate was 26. Brett and Ellie had been married for a year, but were too poor to go on a honeymoon right away. They were only a little better off when we met them, but by watching their pennies, they had saved enough to go from Virginia, up into the Canadian Maritimes then return home.

Our tour was more ambitious. Because we were both teachers, we had entire summers free with a reasonable amount of disposable income to enjoy ourselves. We were on another cross country tour from our home in California with plans to visit Kate's many relatives in New England, then head up to Canada. We planned to return the West Coast via the Trans Canada Highway.

We were touring on our BMW R100RT "airhead" which had already taken us well over 100,000 miles throughout the U.S. and Canada over the last several years. Brett and Ellie were touring on a well-worn Triumph Bonneville that Brett's uncle had donated. Ours was made for long distance high-speed trips on the German autobahn. Theirs was made for short distance sport riding. Ours was customized for comfort. Theirs was lashed together to get them where they wanted to go on the cheap. We decided to share the adventure for awhile.

Brett and Ellie planned to stay in a motel that night as they had been camping the last six nights. We were doing the same, though three camping nights was our limit without clean sheets and showers. We found a relatively inexpensive place that was acceptable to all of us. We met for dinner that night to enjoy one another's company. After dinner we headed back to our respective rooms.

Not too early the next morning, we road together to Mystic Seaport. Kate and I are sailors. We get out on our Cal 20 on weekends when we aren't touring. Brett and Ellie weren't as interested in sailing as we were, so we often split up during the visit, then met up again to compare notes, have lunch or just have a beer together.

After several hours, we all had our fill of the place. The plan was to ride north together for the day. We'd camp somewhere in Rhode Island. The ride was uneventful, but pleasant. About an hour before sundown, we started looking for a campground. We weren't having much luck. They were either full or because of noisy Harley riders they had banned bikes altogether. We were about to consider a motel when we took several wrong turns, got hopelessly lost. We stumbled onto a small family farm on a beautiful hillside that rented a few campsites mostly to locals. The owner was out front mowing the lawn when we rolled up. He said everything was full, but offered to let us camp together in the grassy backyard of the main house as long as we didn't light a fire or mind sharing it with a really big Rhodesian Ridgeback mix. We accepted.

The owner's wife, Alice, came out to greet us. She took us to the back. Alice was amazed that the girls had ridden on the back of a bike all this way. She almost clucked over them like a mother hen. Since we couldn't have a fire, Alice offered us leftovers from their own dinner on the picnic table in the backyard. We accepted immediately. Home cooking, leftovers besides, and new friends! A fucking Lowenbrau moment.

After dinner, the girls went in the house with Alice to help wash dishes, put everything away and engage in some girl talk. Kate and Ellie were bonding rapidly as women often seem to do. Brett and I used the time to get the tents set up. Once done, we did a little PM on the bikes. On the BMW, that usually means checking the oil and standing back to say, "Ain't she pretty?" On the Triumph, it meant adjusting and oiling the chain, tightening all the bolts and deciding if anything needs to be done about the ones that fell off. Still, Triumphs are wonderful bikes to ride. By the time the girls were done, it was time to turn in.

Kate and I were in our big double sleeping bag talking softly about nothing as couples often do just before dozing off. Nothing important, just enjoying being together. As we both started to doze, we kept hearing a swish-swish-swish sound.

"What are you doing," Kate finally asked, a little annoyed.

"Nothing. I thought it was you." Swish-swish-swish. "Maybe it's the dog. I'll check."

Before I could get up to check, we heard swish-swish-swish "uhhh, uhhh" swish-swish-swish "Ohhh...ohhh" It was Brett and Ellie going at it in the tent right next to us. We laughed quietly once we recognized it. Shortly, it was obvious they were both cumming, then blissful silence...no swishing.

Kate turned over on her side, spooning against me, but I knew the only sex for the night had already occurred in the tent next to us. Kate refused to consider sex when camping. The girl had her standards. She would only put out if I got her a nice clean motel room with a shower. Another reason we settled on that 3 day camping limit.

Next morning nothing was said. There was no indication from Brett and Ellie that they realized they might have been heard. Maybe they didn't even care if they had.

We rode at a leisurely pace throughout the day with Brett and Ellie, stopping for whatever interesting sights we saw along the way. Even gas stops are a welcome break on the road. Around 1 pm we stopped for lunch in a small roadside cafe. We could see clouds forming east of us. We figured we'd be in rain gear before the day was done.

The waitress took our orders, leaving us to talked about the prospect of rain. I suggested to Brett and Ellie that we stop at a motel with a pool instead of camping with the threat of rain.

"Can't do it, Rick. We're already over-budget from the motel in Mystic. We really have to camp tonight.

"Come on, Brett. How about we treat you to a motel stay if you don't mind sharing a room with us." Kate gave me a look that I interpreted loosely as "WTF?"

"We can't ask you to do that," Brett complained.

"You aren't asking. We're doing it as a sort of anniversary gift to you guys. We can enjoy a few hours in the pool. Maybe a nice dinner afterward. Our treat."

Ellie looked at Brett expectantly. "OK, if you're sure," said Brett to a little happy yelp from Ellie.

"Of course, I'm sure. We'll look for something around 4 o'clock."

Brett and Ellie excused themselves to visit the restrooms. I knew I'd be hearing about not consulting Kate shortly.

"What are you doing?" asked Kate as soon as they were out of ear-shot.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what are you doing? We barely known them. Did you consider that they might repeat what they did last night in the same room with us?"

"Maybe...what would be wrong with that?"

"In the same room? Are you crazy? Don't you think they'd expect us to do it too? What if they watched?"

"What if they did? Maybe they'd learn something. Maybe we'd learn something?"

"You perv," she said laughing. "Are you serious? Geez, Rick...I mean...we're going to watch them fuck?"

"Well, so far, all I did was offer to share a room with them. Suppose we don't jump to any conclusions here. Let's just enjoy their company." Kate rolled her eyes.

"Besides, look at who is getting excited about this?" I glanced at her nipples, both hard as pebbles under her tank top.

Kate quickly put her forearm across her chest, but all it did was call attention to her predicament. Brett noticed it immediately as he returned from the men's room. He was watching her chest so intently, he stumbled slightly trying to get into the booth. We all started laughing. "What's so funny?" asked Ellie as she also returned. "Nothing, hun. You hadda be there."

The waitress brought our food. We all looked envious over the others selection, making small talk. We enjoyed the meal together, but it was clear where Brett's attention still was. Kate never acknowledged his furtive glances, but I knew she was basking in it.

Around 4 pm we found a motel. No swimming pool, but a nice hot tub. There was a nice steak house right next door. We checked into the room with its two queen sized beds. The girls did rock-scissors-paper for the bed closest to the bathroom, then we decided to check out the hot tub. Kate and I went together into the bathroom to change into bathing suits, then Brett and Ellie took a turn. Loose board shorts for the guys to conceal "swimming pool shrinkage" and bikinis for the girls, amazingly filled-out, concealing very little. The girls slipped t-shirts over their bikinis for the walk to the indoor hot tub.

The hot tub was visible from the lobby so bathing suits weren't optional, but that was fine with us. Brett and I eased into the hot water watching the girls strip off their t-shirts. Something about watching the t-shirt come off is always a little thrill. But something was different about Kate's bikini...and Ellie's. Somehow, between putting on the t-shirts, walking to the hot tub and taking off the t-shirts, they had swapped bikini tops. How the hell did they do that without us seeing it?

The girls eased into the water next to their own partner. We chatted about the day we'd spent together. We speculated about what might come up tomorrow. A little wine would have been nice. We hadn't thought ahead, and nothing was available from the motel. The rain began falling hard, but it was a soothing background noise in a hot tub instead of a cold wet ordeal in a tent.

Little by little the conversation got lighter. We became more engrossed in our own partners. Kate and I kissed and petted gently. Occasionally we'd look over at Brett and Ellie. Sometimes they were already watching us. But there wasn't much to see. When Ellie let out a gasp, we both looked over. Brett's hand was in her bikini bottom. Ellie's head was thrown back over Brett's shoulder. In no time, her thrusting into Brett's hand had formed waves in the small hot tub. Kate started giggling quietly, looking down at her boobs which were bobbing up and down with the wave action. I looked too. In no time we were full-out laughing. Brett and Ellie, looking at us, started laughing as well. The spell was broken. It was time to return to the room. We talked about going to the steak house for dinner, but with the late lunch, none of us were hungry enough. Besides, the rain was still piss out of a boot.

The girls took turns taking showers. The guys skipped a shower for the evening. Brett and I were alone in the room while the girls were doing whatever girls do in the shower endlessly. We talked about the trip. He was concerned about an older Brit bike in a Japanese bike world. I had the same concerns, though the BMW was much newer and a lot more reliable than his Triumph.

Keeping our priorities straight, the talk naturally progressed from bikes to women. We confessed our admiration for the others wife without getting tacky about it. We compared them as we had the bikes, pointing out their important specifications, maintenance requirements and performance. At times a little crude, but mostly respectful of the two captivating little women giggling together in the bathroom about secrets they don't share with men.

They came out wrapped identically in white towels. Each had one cinched just above her boobs, the other wrapped around her head. They had walked in with their bikinis on their bodies. They walked out with their bikinis in their hands. Being genius guys we deduced that there was nothing at all under either one of those towels. I openly watched Kate's every move hoping to get a glimpse of something I've seen a million times without tiring of it. I watched Ellie as much as I could without looking like the perv Kate had called me. I was rewarded less than I wanted, but probably more than I deserved. It didn't escape me that Brett was getting his own share of rewards from both girls. Some of them didn't look all that inadvertent.

Once the girls had found something to wear to bed, they retreated once again to the bathroom to put them on. Both came out in panties and a large men's t-shirt. We watched them hop into their respective beds hoping for one last peek. The show over, we each joined our spouses. Brett turned off the lights.

It couldn't have been more than 10 minutes before Kate poked me in the ribs, jerking her thumb over to the bed next to us. Swish-swish-swish. We listened for awhile, then Kate spooned back against me facing their bed so both of us could try to sneak a peek without being too obvious. "Who's the perv now," I whispered only to get a sharp elbow to the ribs.

Within a short time, we were making our own swish-swish-swish noises. At first we tried to be quiet, but that wasn't working so well. Brett and Ellie were into full-on fucking by now. We were catching up quickly. We all glancing back and forth at one another, not wanting to miss anyting. Though we were on separate beds with our own spouses, it was as close as any of us had been to group sex.

Ellie rolled on top of Brett, bouncing up and down on his dick. Kate immediately rolled on top of me, bouncing just as energetically. Spontaneously, both girls reached across between the beds touching hands. They both squealed, recoiling as if they had received an electrical shock. Then they joined hands again somehow electrifying us all.

The girls leaned into one another across the divide between the beds, riding up and down in sync on our dicks. They started whispering to one another again, in that conspiratorial way they had developed over the last few days.

Without warning, Kate jumped off me, Ellie jumped off Brett, swapping partners.

"Just a little making out, guys. No fucking! You can touch us anywhere you want, but you can't stick anything in us, OK?"

I don't know about Brett, but I was too surprised by the move and too engrossed by the young little beauty astride my waist to verbalize anything.

"OK!!??" they said louder in unison.

"Yeah, yeah, OK," we both managed to get out.

They continued to bounce up and down enthusiastically, laughing with one another. I could feel Ellie's wet pussy grind against the full length of my dick each time, but she was far enough down my torso that there was no way it would penetrate.

The longer it went on, the less Kate and Ellie were communicating with one another. Both were really getting into the feel of a different cock. Though, they wouldn't take it inside, they were making the most of what they could do.

Kate started the little moans that foretell a major orgasm in the making. She was bouncing less and grinding more on Brett's dick. I could hear the squelching from the next bed over the squelching from Ellie's grinding. Without warning, Kate dropped down on Brett's dick driving it fully home into her sopping pussy. She immediately realized what she had done and leapt clear off the bed. Brett looked at Ellie in terror.

"Ellie...please, it wasn't my fault. I didn't do anything. I promise," Brett pleaded looking at both of us.

Kate was in tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It just...I don't know...it just...slipped."

Ellie and I tried to comfort Kate. We told her it was OK, just in the heat of the moment, she wasn't really responsible. Ellie confessed to nearly doing the exact same thing except she caught herself just in time and she slid over my cock instead of impaling herself on it. Damn...I kind of wish I didn't know how close it had come.

Ellie held Kate, convincing her it was clearly an accident and nobody was upset with her. She finally calmed down, and was able to laugh at it. But we all agreed we were just about terminally horny and accidents would only get "worse". The only solution was to jump into our separate beds with our own spouses and fuck like bunnies. We were too engrossed in one another to even glance at what the other couple was doing, and wonder of wonders, we all four seemed to climax within a few seconds of one another. It was an amazing finish.

The girls went into the bathroom together to clean up. They both returned with warm wash cloths and towels to clean us up. I don't know about Brett, but I was asleep before Kate had even finished toweling me off.

Next morning, as usual, I was the first to awake and quietly went to look for coffee and donuts for everyone. When I got back, they were all still unconscious. I ate my donuts, read the paper, and waited for them to awake. We're all on vacation—no hurry.

When they did awaken, we all busied ourselves with packing, and nothing was really said about what had happened. It wasn't that we were avoiding it. We were just moving on with the day's plans.

We loaded the bikes and headed more or less northeast. After the first break, Kate and Ellie decided they wanted to swap bikes for awhile. Kate would ride with Brett and Ellie would ride with me. Kate claimed she wanted Ellie to see how much more comfortable a real touring bike could be.

It was fun having a different passenger. Kate is so experienced, I barely know she is back there most of the time. On long boring stretches, she often hugged me or stroked my leg or did her best to give me a hard-on before settling against her backrest and pulling out her latest trashy or historical novel. I could always tell what she's reading by the way the bike tracked.

Before long, it was obvious that Brett was getting the benefit of her experience. There isn't a whole lot that can be done on a moving motorcycle, but Kate was being Kate and Brett wasn't complaining about Kate's hand in his fly. Neither was I. Ellie was picking up cues from Kate and reached into my pants to grab a handful of cock as well. Probably not the best thing to be doing on a moving motorcycle, but constantly developing new cycling skills is good preparation for emergencies. I showed Brett the reach-behind-your-back-to-cup-a-tit move on Ellie. He practiced on Kate for quite awhile. Practice makes perfect, but it looked like he already knew it. It didn't get very serious, just friends playing.

When we stopped for gas, the girls compared the effects of the smooth BMW to the vibrating Triumph Bonneville. "The BMW is like married sex. The Bonny is like boyfriend sex," they laughed. The whispered conspiratorially while looking at us, the perpetually clueless men in their lives.

The one constant of motorcycle touring is nothing ever stays constant. Things happen no matter what you do to prevent them. Hard to tell whether it was one of the bolts that loosened or one of the bolts we decided wasn't needed, but something came apart on the Triumph. Oil poured out onto the ground. More than normally pours out of a Triumph. More than normally pours out of Harleys. The bike was toast.

We were somewhere north of Boston so I checked for Triumph dealers in the area. There was one about 5 miles away. If this had been the West Coast, the closest one would have been 100 miles away, but the East Coast has lots of European bike dealers. Brett called his tow insurance company. Fortunately, they covered bikes within 7 miles. He made the arrangements and we moved off the shoulder to figure out what comes next.

Brett and Ellie insisted we continue with our trip. That they'd be fine. A brave front, but they were bummed and more than a little scared.

We refused the offer and told them we'd follow them to the dealership. We'd all decide what to do once we knew how serious the damage was. A flat bed tow truck arrived. The driver loaded the bike without incident. He invited Brett and Ellie to ride in the cab. We followed behind on our bike.