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It had been a year since Don had left Samantha and moved in with his secretary. As part of the divorce settlement Samantha kept her home and had sufficient money to get by.
It occurred to me that it had been a year in which Sam had drawn herself into a shell. Although she lived just down the road we were at best nodding acquaintances. Then it struck me that she’d always seemed the quiet type, Don, her ex, would strike up a conversation but Sam was never included, and if she did attempt to join in Don would quickly cut her short giving the impression that Sam’s opinions were unimportant.
Sam didn’t drive so she could often be seen walking to the shops a couple of kilometres away. Her head was always bowed as if trying to avoid eye contact with passers by. Which was something of a pity as Sam in her late twenties was an attractive lady. Even her defensive posture could not disguise her striking figure with full firm breasts and curving hips. Her peaches and cream complexion with blue eyes and cropped short fair hair bespoke an English rose heritage. She could have easily made friends but something inside seemed to be stopping her from doing so.
It was a situation that in everyone’s opinion needed remedying. At the age of 60 I was regarded as the ‘Old man of the street.’ And with this view of age came a perception of wisdom. It seems to me that wisdom is often confused with commonsense. Be that as it may people looked to me to do something about getting Samantha out of her shell.
Conversation with the lady tended to be one-way traffic it was difficult to get much more than a yes or no reply from her, it was as if she had built a defensive wall around herself, I felt that breaching fortress Samantha was going to be no easy task, I was soon to be proved wrong.
It was a stinking hot day and I was at the local supermarket buying some groceries, as I finished paying I looked up to notice that Sam was just leaving one of the other checkouts carrying a small bag of purchases.
I waited for her to draw level with me then said, ‘I’ll give you a lift home Sam.’
‘No that’s OK I can walk.’ She replied.
‘I wasn’t asking Sam. I was insisting. It’s far too hot to walk.’
‘Well if you insist.’ A smile lit her face. ‘Then thankyou Jim I accept.’
Her smile turned to a look of dismay when we reached my transport. ‘You’re riding a motor-bike.’ She gasped.
‘Yeah, I thought that I’d give the car a rest.’ I replied then before she could protest I opened the top box and whisked out the spare helmet and replaced it with our shopping.
Samantha looked at the helmet as if it were something alien. “I’ve never been on a motorbike.’ She said.
Well then you’re in for a real treat.’ I replied as I fastened the helmet over her soft hair and lowered the visor. ‘Hop on. Let’s go. All you need do is go with the bike, when it leans, lean with it. It’s that easy.’
As soon as Sam had settled behind me I hit the starter button and the 1200cc B.M.W. engine growled into life. Because it was her first time on a bike I took things easy but even so the bike got us home in half the time that it would have taken a car. A quick blip of the throttle at the traffic lights caused us to leave other traffic in our wake then we skimmed past slow moving queues of cars with ease.
When we reached Sam’s place I pulled in to the kerb stopped the bike and twisted round to look at her. When she raised the visor her face was flushed. ‘Oh that was so much fun.’ She gasped. ‘It was just exhilarating.’
I paused then asked. ‘ Is there anything in your shopping that needs refrigerating?’
‘No.’ she replied. ‘It’s just bread and vegetables’
‘Then hang on tight. Now we’re going for a real ride.’
‘But I can’t I have to cook dinner.’ She protested
‘I’ll take care of that.’ I replied then before she could say another word I started the bike hit the throttle and we roared off down the street.
In no time we had passed through the town and were headed down the highway. Now the Beemer came into her own, the growl from the engine turned to a snarl as we tore past a line of cars that had formed behind a lumbering road train. Then the snarl became a roar as we raced past the truck and headed for the open road.
A turn off had us passing through country roads that climbed into the mountains. It was here that the B.M.W. really came alive. There are a few bikes that will give the Beemer a run for her money when it comes to acceleration and top speed but none, in my opinion, that can live with her for handling. As we passed through winding mountain passes the bike swung easily from side to side and although we were close to dragging the footpegs along the bitumen the sure-footed machine never as much as twitched. Every time we came out of a bend into a straight. I gave the throttle a twist and the front of the bike became light as if she was trying to become airborne. Then a dab on the brakes would bring us back to a speed that could cope with the next series of bends.
Sam was a good pillion passenger, she had shuffled closer to me her arms Ankara travesti were wrapped around me so that our weight was centrally located on the bike which made for better handling, But I couldn’t help being aware of two very firm breasts that were pressing into my back
Only those who know and love motorbikes have experienced the sheer exhilaration that comes from such a ride. Samantha was taking the crash course. We swept down out of the mountains and made our way through vineyards where row upon row of tended vines marched in orderly processions along our route.
I turned into a winery that I knew to have a first class restaurant and came to a halt. Stopping the engine I dismounted and turned to help Sam from the bike. ‘I told you that I would take care of dinner.’ I said then indicated the restaurant, ‘Dinner awaits my lady.’
Sam’s face was animated, flushed and full of life, she tore of her helmet, threw her arms around me then stepped back and gave a loud whoop of sheer joy. ‘I have never felt so alive, sooo.’ She searched for a word then found it. ‘So free, so utterly and beautifully freeee!’ Then the lady who so recently had been reserved and withdrawn threw her arms wide spun in a circle then kissed me full on the lips and said. ‘Thankyou Jim Thankyou.’
‘The pleasure was all mine dear lady. Now shall we dine?’
It seemed to me that Sam’s reaction to a motorbike ride was at least a little bit over the top. Once again I was soon to be proved wrong.
After studying the menu we both decided on Barramundi, which is a truly delicious Australian codfish. This was served with a fresh garden salad and accompanied by a lightly oaked Chardonnay that the winery was justly proud of. Sam appeared to be savouring every mouthful, closing her eyes and eating slowly as if trying to memorise every morsel.
‘You are enjoying the food.’ I commented.
‘Ooh yes! It seems that now I’m free even my food tastes better.’
‘Free?’ I inquired.
‘Yes Jim, free. You can never know what that ride on your bike meant to me. As we swooped through those mountain passes I felt…No! Became free for the first time in my life.’ The heat of the day had caused her to perspire so that her breasts were sticking to her shirt and her excitement from the bike ride was making them heave in a very enticing manner. She continued. ‘I have never been so alive and I want to savour every minute. Not just the food’
‘ But free?’ I was becoming repetitious because her words were puzzling me. Samantha looked up from her food; saw my look of puzzlement then without raising her voice told me her story.
There had only been two men in her life, her father and her husband. Her father was a martinet, a man who firmly believed that children were to be seen and not heard. This to the extent that she had never been allowed to form an opinion of her own much less voice one. He was equally firm of the belief of not sparing the rod to spoil the child. The slightest disagreement with this tyrant was met by immediate and painful punishment. To make matters worse his wife was only able to have one child and to his eternal shame that child was not the son that he could have formed in his own image. Her mother had never enjoyed good health and passed away when Sam was five. Her father felt that someone should be punished for this and that someone was Samantha. He watched her like a hawk and if he as much as thought that she might have ideas that did not match his own then retribution was swift.
As she grew and reached her teens she naturally became aware of boys of her own age. Her father’s reaction had been to literally lock her up. She was taken to and from school then later to work. Her job in an all female typing pool was a position within the company where her father worked. Where once again she was driven to and from work.
But it is in the nature of typing pools for the girls to chat during their breaks and when the work slackened off. It was during these chats that Sam learned that there was another side to life, a side that was both interesting and exciting, a side that involved having boyfriends. All of the girls it seemed had boyfriends, all except Sam that is.
Their relationships varied from those who had only recently met their man and those who had gone the whole hog and were now in a live together relationship. Sam was fascinated by all of their stories and even found herself becoming aroused when some of the senior girls talked at length of their sexual experiences.
But most exciting of all to Sam was that she could see that a man in her life would be her ticket out of her father’s control. In her fervid imagination this man took on the persona of a knight in armour who would come to her rescue.
Her knight in shining armour turned out to be Don an underling in the department that her father supervised. Sweeping Samantha off her feet was a simple task. It was not till they had married that Sam discovered her father had put Don up to the idea of dating her; with the understanding that promotion would come quickly if the Konya travesti young man were to marry his daughter.
It soon became obvious to Sam that Don was the son that her father always wanted. He was a control freak who simply took over from where her father left off.
Two years after her marriage her father suffered a massive heart attack and died. But even though he had passed away he continued to control her life in the form of a son-in-law who had now been promoted into his position within the company.
It wasn’t until after her divorce that Sam discovered that Don’s affair with his secretary had been ongoing since before her marriage. No wonder he had so little time for her. All that Don had added to Sam’s life was frustration. When he left her she had no feeling of loss only a sense of being alone which compared to her life up till that point was something of an improvement.
Samantha had already started to think of herself as an old maid when I offered her a lift home. The simple act of riding on a motorbike had been a massive turning point in her life. She became animated as once again her face flushed as she spoke.
‘I really enjoyed the ride home your bike is just thrilling in the way that it moves and responds. I had accepted that the ride home was probably going to be the highlight of my year then before I knew it we were off again. Racing along the highway had me shivering with excitement but the when we rode through the mountains and the bike really came alive, so did I.’
A slow smile crossed her face, and then she continued. ‘Its hard to explain but the feeling of joy, excitement and sheer freedom was no longer the highlight of my year; it was the highlight of my life! Because suddenly it came to me like a bolt of the blue that I was just as free as the motorbike, unchained, unrestrained, free to fly like the bike. And not just for today but for the rest of my life! You can never begin to understand what that ride on your bike means to me.’
There was a lump in my throat as I tried to respond, it was hard to find words to fit the occasion ‘Sam, if only I had known we could have done this a dozen times by now.’
‘You couldn’t possibly have known Jim. But there is one other thing that I’d like to explain.’ Her eyes became downcast and I feared that she might be sliding back into her shell. Then she continued. ‘ I can’t begin to explain how good it felt to have somebody do something for the sole purpose of letting me enjoy myself and be happy. It felt so good to know that this whole trip was not something that you’d planned it was just something that you wanted to do for me. And Jim, it just felt so good, so right, to have my arms around a man who was good, kind, strong and gentle.’
Sam raised her hands to her mouth as if she has said too much. I never spoke. I got to my feet walked around the table and lifted Sam out of her chair and hugged her to me. We remained in each others arms for fully two minutes before I whispered, ‘Sam this is a loving hug, you have lots of them coming your way and you deserve every single one.’
Tears were shining in her eyes as she replied. ‘I hope that a lot of them will be coming from you Jim.’
I returned her to her seat then picked up her wine glass and gave it to her. Then we toasted. ‘To freedom and happiness.’
Sam took another sip of her wine then said. ‘I like this wine, can we have some more?’
‘Yes but not yet. We still have to ride home so I’ll get a couple of bottles to take with us.’
‘I would enjoy that, the two glasses that I’ve had are making me feel so relaxed.’
‘In vino veritas’ I quoted
‘What does that mean?’
‘It translates to. “In wine there is truth.” Which means that wine can relax our inhibitions to allow us become more truthful. It is truth that sets us free. But like almost everything, wine is only good in moderation. Now shall we go home?’
I have always maintained that you only need to take a B.M.W. motorbike anywhere once. After that the bike knows its own way and all you need do is enjoy the ride. Thus it was that we made our way home just enjoying the ride whilst the machine swooped through the mountains and because I was relaxed I became more conscious of my delightful passenger. She had squirmed as close to me as possible so that I was conscious of the full length of her torso against my back. Her breasts were really firm, a fact that I was truly aware of when Sam hugged me tightly as we swooped through many of the tighter bends.
It was almost with regret that I turned into our street and our journey was over. I turned to Sam and yelled. ‘Your place or mine?’
‘Mine.’ She replied.
After I’d opened and poured the wine we settled into two deep armchairs in Sam’s tastefully furnished living room. We chatted for a while then I noticed that Sam was drinking far too quickly. ‘Hey take it easy with that stuff it can knock you down as quickly as it lifted you up.’
‘Message received loud and clear.’ Sam grinned. ‘Music?’ then without awaiting a reply she made her way to a stereo İzmir travesti and shortly thereafter the room was filled with Dave Brubeck taking five.
Nothing is more relaxing than warm Jazz and cool white wine; there was silence whilst we enjoyed both. There is silence and then there is silence. There is the kind of silence where people find solitude and there are silences that somehow draw us together. This was the latter, I found myself enjoying Sam’s company without a word being spoken and I instinctively knew that Sam was feeling exactly the same. Therefore it came as no surprise when, without a word, Sam rose to her feet to came and settle in my lap; we smiled, clinked glasses and again toasted freedom and happiness.
Sam’s head was resting on my shoulder so that I hardly had to raise my voice above a soft rumble when I asked. ‘So, where to from here Sam?’
She mused a moment before replying. ‘ From here? I’m not really sure Jim. I only know that for the rest of my life I’ll be doing what I want to do and going where I want to go. And right at this moment that is exactly what is happening.’ She raised her head slightly to look me in the eyes then leaned forward. This time her kiss was soft, warm and tender.
I could see where this was heading but there was a point that I felt had to be made. ‘Sam, you do realise that I’m old enough to be your….’
‘Stop right there Jim.’ She cut me off. ‘Haven’t I just finished telling you that I’m doing what I want to do? If your age was any kind of a problem then I wouldn’t be here.’
I looked into her eyes and all that shone back was complete sincerity. This time when she kissed me I responded so that our tongues laced around each other. There was sweetness in this kiss like no other I had ever experienced. A kiss has a language all of its own this one spoke of need, desire, and a drawing together that could only end in fulfilment.
Isn’t experience a wonderful thing? At this stage I could have hurried things along but instead I slowed down. In the words of old Blue Eyes ‘Nice and easy does it every time.’ I’m so glad that I listened to his advice.
For the next ten minutes or so (who’s counting?) I allowed my hands to caress Sam’s torso. Coming up from beneath her button down shirt to cross her abdomen then slowly and lightly let my fingers drift around to her spine from where her cute butt protruded above her jeans, slowly counting my way up her vertebrae till midway between her shoulder blades, surprise surprise! No bra strap! My fingers made their curiosity driven way around her body to the sides of two very firm, very smooth breasts. Definitely no bra!
Stop right there Jim, save the best bits for later.
My fingers again slowly descended across her abdomen rippling over a tight six-pack. Sam was breathing hard and squirming in my lap, my turgid manhood straining against my pants trying find that delicious groove between her butt cheeks. Meanwhile my fingers had made their way down the outside of her jeans clad thighs and were now describing a slowly circling rise up the inside of her parted legs toward the object of my desire then stopping short and moving back down. All this time Sam’s breathing had become heavier, her body shuddering with need.
Suddenly without warning she jumped up out of my lap to stand before me, breasts heaving hips thrust forward eyes blazing with lust and something more; a hint of mischief. Her tongue lasciviously licked slowly across her lips as she leaned toward me till I could not help seeing down her shirt to where two glorious orbs showed why she did not need a bra.
Sam was showing me that two could play the teasing game.
‘You are right about the wine.’ She said. ‘It has released my inhibitions. So this is where I get to fulfil two of my favourite fantasies.’
‘What might they be Sam?’
‘First things first.’ She replied. ‘I’ve always wanted to do a strip.’
Without awaiting a reply she walked over to the stereo, her hips swaying provocatively as she went. She pressed a couple of buttons then returned to stand before me again as the music of The Police filled the room. Then while the soaring voice of Sting sang. ‘Every breath you take, every move, you make, I’ll be watching you.’ Sam began, little by little, to unbutton her shirt. As each button became undone a little more of her body became uncovered, a little more of her firm breasts was revealed. As each button became undone Sam sensuously leaned toward me then straightened, turned, weaving her hips as she did so, then began unfastening the next button. Till button by button her shirt was open to her waist partially revealing two very firm breasts. She reached up and lifted the shirt over her bare shoulders; the only things holding the shirt in place now was two very roused very firm nipples.
Sting was singing. ‘How my poor heart aches with every breath you take.’ When Sam shrugged her shoulders and the shirt fell from her torso to pool at her feet while every breath she took caused her lightly perspiring, totally perfect, breasts to swell before my eyes. Breasts that were so firm that neither sag nor ripple occurred as she moved. Breasts with light pink aureole from which arose firm nipples. Samantha had easily the best breasts that I had ever seen. When you’ve been around the planet for sixty years you can say you’ve seen your share of boobs.
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