It was going to be a long drive. Cross-country from Jacksonville to Seattle. I’d gotten a new job and was moving; the household stuff was gone but I was towing a trailer with my motorcycle. I didn’t have to be on the job for four weeks so I had plenty of time; I intended on a few motorcycle side trips on my way west. I suppose it was a mild mid-life crisis acting up and I was looking forward to the trip.

My first day out ended early in Alabama. I checked into a motel, unloaded my bike then took a ride along the Gulf Coast. I rode from Mobile to the coast, saw the sights, and rode back to put the cycle back on the trailer. This is how I planned to spend every day. Drive, stop, ride.

The next morning I had been driving about two hours and needed a piss break. I pulled into a rest area and parked beside a group of three motorcycles each with a different state plate. I took a leak, got a drink from a vending machine, and sat at a picnic table next to my truck. As I was sitting there, three women in leathers came to the two-wheelers parked beside me. One of them stopped to look at my Road King and made some comments to the other two. They walked to my table and one asked if it was my ride, I said yes. She said it was too pretty to be sitting on the trailer, I should be riding it. I told them about my trip and asked them to sit if they had the time. They did. They told me they had been to Bike Fest in Daytona and were headed home. One was from Texas, the second from Kansas but the third had ridden from Portland Oregon. I asked the Oregon rider how long she had been on the road and she said ‘forever’ the way her ass felt. We talked a little more; I told them about my plans for an evening ride every day. I pulled out a map and showed them my route and asked if it was a good one for side trips. Miss Oregon had already made the trip and suggested a couple of changes that I told her I would keep in mind and left.

I made Shreveport later that day and pulled into a motel. I unloaded my bike and went exploring the hills along the Mississippi River north of town. When I came back to the motel, I noticed one of the bikes from the rest area parked near the front office. Pastel blue, air-brushed clouds; sky scenery, Dyna Low Rider, Oregon tags. I waited until she came out of registration and said, “Hi.”

She looked at me and said, “I saw your truck and stopped.” I asked where the other two were and she said they went their separate ways an hour earlier. We talked for a few minutes until she said she needed to clean up. I told her that when she was done, we could walk to the restaurant across the street and get dinner. She said that was a good idea and, “By the way, my name is Kathi.”

During dinner I found out Kathi had been on the road for close to a month. She had ridden east with another woman who had to leave early because of a family death. She shipped her bike back to Oregon and flew home. Kathi told me that she was tired of riding and didn’t want to ride back alone. She joked that I should sell my truck and ride with her, Seattle wasn’t that much farther than her place in Portland. We finished dinner, moved to the bar, and ordered a couple of beers. I asked her if she had any deadline for getting home and she said no. She was single and did freelance writing for magazines so she could do her job from anywhere. In fact, she was using the trip as the basis for an article for Easy Rider magazine, “What are you going to call the article?”

She said wryly, “How about ‘Split Tail on a Soft Tail’?

Kathi was an attractive woman when she was wearing her leathers; she was even more attractive when she wasn’t. She was roughly my age, give or take a couple of years, about 5’8, 130lbs, and nicely put together. And she had dark cinnamon hair. True red hair is God’s gift to my eyes and she had plenty of it. Usually, natural redheads have green or hazel eyes but hers were a medium gray. If I did nothing else in my life, I wanted a picture of her to look at in my old age. I told her that; she smiled at the compliment then said goodnight and went to her room.

I wasn’t done for the night. I put on my trunks, went to the motel pool, and jumped in. While I was splashing around, Kathi came out and asked me if I was having fun, and if could she join me. Yes, to both questions. She disappeared into her room for a minute and came out in a two-piece that didn’t have a lot of fabric to it. Now I had a second picture to take before I left. She looked exotic and I was having a hard time not staring at her. I’m glad I was in the water because my cock was hidden, trying to stay warm. If I had been out of the water, it would have noticed her and stood up for a lust-filled peek. We stayed in the pool for a while and talked more until she said had to go do laundry. She couldn’t pack a lot of clothes so she had to wash what she had every couple of days. I told her she wouldn’t have to wash the swimsuit; she just did. That got me a big smile and she said that maybe she should wash her panties the same way. That sounded like a great idea to me.

The next morning I left my room to find a cup of coffee. Kathi was standing beside her bike and smiled at me when I walked over to her. She said good morning and I asked her if she had coffee yet, she said “No, let’s get some.” We went across the street and ordered breakfast. She told me that she felt very relaxed that morning, that talking to me put her in a good mood and she slept well. I told her that talking to her had kept me up longer because I was thinking of things I should have said and didn’t, “Like what?” she asked.

“Like what are your plans for the rest of the trip?”

She answered, “I have to ride home, no other plans.”

“You said yesterday your ass was sore from riding and you don’t want to ride alone. Right?”

“Yeah, but what choices do I have? Get a plane and ship the bike? I don’t have that much money.”

“Why don’t you put your bike on my trailer and ride with me for a while? There’s room enough for both cycles and the truck seat won’t beat your butt too hard.”

“But what about your plans? I would be screwing up your trip.” I told her they were flexible. The only thing I had to do was be in Seattle in 25 days. “Will you let me pay for gas?’

“Not all of it, but you can buy this breakfast.”

She smiled, “Let’s go load up my bike.”

I don’t know if she could tell or not but my heart was racing when I made my proposal. Afraid she would say no, and equally afraid she would say yes. Suddenly my trip took on a whole new dimension. I was traveling across the States with a very pretty and sexy woman sitting beside me. The possibilities flooded my mind.

The day passed way too fast, but not fast enough. We stopped at a motel just outside Fort Smith and got our rooms. We unloaded the motorcycles and took an evening ride around a local lake. We chanced upon a nice little park that was deserted so we had the place to ourselves as we watched the sun go down. We talked about nothing and everything. Just at dusk Kathi walked to the water, kicked off her shoes, pulled up her pant legs, and waded in. She came back to me and said I should join her in the water, we could swim a little. I told her I didn’t have my swim trunks with me. She said that if I didn’t mind, she was going in and went back to the water’s edge. She dropped her pants, took off the blouse, and dove into the water. I don’t know that there is a lot of difference between swimwear and underwear, but underwear is a hell of a lot sexier when wet. My pants started to bulge as I watched her. She called me in again but I wasn’t going to strip down with the erection I had. Damn, she looked good. She returned to the shore and walked out of the water which had turned her panties almost invisible. As she picked up her clothes and started toward me, I could see her pubic hair, a darker red than her hair. I was having a hormone rush and my cock was beating a tattoo against the prison walls of my pants, trying to escape.

She walked straight up and stood directly in front of me and asked me if I had a woman waiting for me. I said no, no girlfriend or wife. She got a serious look and said, “In my job, I travel a lot, and now this trip has been going on way too long. I don’t have a boyfriend and haven’t been close to a man for months. We could make this a very nice trip together, starting right now.”

There was nothing I could say. There was nothing to say. I stood up to her then she reached for my pants, unbuttoned them, pulled the zipper to the stop then pushed my jeans towards my ankles. I reached behind her and pulled her closer. She stepped into me, threw her arms around my neck, and put her lips on mine. She had been thinking of this for more than a minute, and the heat from her flowed through her skin to me. Everywhere we touched I could feel her burn, the cool lake water clinging to her was turning to steam. We were locked in an embrace, lips pressed together. I caught the elastic of her panties and stripped them down, then pulled my boxers down. My cock was standing at attention and firmly wedged between us as we kissed, caressed, and fondled each other.

We stood tied together by our arms and let our body heat weld us even closer. I stepped back to the picnic bench and sat down, she stepped over the bench and straddled my legs, and lowered herself onto my cock. Both of us were ready and the lubrication was flowing. She slipped onto me full length then stopped moving. She laid her head on my shoulder and sat still. Her breasts were heaving with each breath she took, and the tips of her bra were grazing my chest. I twitched my cock inside her then began rocking my hips. As I rocked, she moved with me, and soon I was stroking in and out of her. She sat up straight, put her hands on my shoulders, and pumped her hips harder, trying to force me deeper into her. She wasn’t making a sound but her breath was coming in short gasps through her teeth. Her eyes were open but she wasn’t looking at me or anything else. Her entire concentration was on the connection between us.