Chapter 31

Half an hour later James returned with his arms full of motorcycle gear. He handed me the black helmet.
«See if that fits.» I put it on and did the customary head-jiggle to check that it was snug and didn't wobble too much.
«Not too big, fits perfect,» I said, my voice a little muffled by the visor, then took it off again.
«You ready to go, then?» He asked, smiling excitedly. I nodded and he handed me the rest of the motorcycle gear. «Go to the garage, get these on. I'll be there in a minute, just going to lock up.» I stuffed my phone and my wallet in my pocket, grabbed my boots from the hallway and carried everything into the garage. I dumped the mound of leather onto the battered sofa and fished out the leather pants, pulling them on over my jeans grateful that they fit pretty well. Not having been in motorcycle gear for over 10 years I had forgotten how heavy they were, stiff and cumbersome to move around in. These even more so because they were made of leather, last time I had borrowed a Kevlar suit which had been a little lighter and more flexible. But I liked the leather a lot better, some how it made me feel safer. I sat down on the sofa and pulled my boots on, knowing they would be hopeless to get on if I put my jacket on first. James entered the garage just as I pulled the leather jacket on. He stopped in his tracks, staring me up and down.
«... What?» I threw my arms out and looked at myself. «Did I put something on wrong?!» James laughed and shook his head.
«No, not at all! It's just.. you look good in that,» he smiled, walking over to take down his own leathers.
«In this?» I looked myself up and down, frowning.
«Mhm...» He discarded his leathers on the sofa and slipped an arm inside the leather jacket, wrapping it around my waist. «It's very sexy. You are very sexy.» He smirked, leaning in to give me a kiss.
«Is this going to cause so much distraction that you won't be able to drive? Your brain needs blood to function, you know.» I teased, returning the kiss. James quickly got into his own leathers while I wrapped a thin scarf around my neck and pocketed my phone and wallet. When James had decided which bike to take out of his little, private fleet of motorcycles, he opened the garage doors and pushed a white Triumph out into the street. I grabbed the black helmet and walked out into the street, suddenly feeling a little nervous. The leather creaked a little as I sat down on a low brick-wall section dividing James' driveway from the neighboring house, eyeing the bike a little suspiciously. Ten years had passed since last time I was on the back of a motorcycle. Had I really grown into a scared little wuss? A boring, careful adult? Was I in way over my head with my ambition to take the motorcycle license myself?
«You all right?» James asked as he was closing the garage door behind him, locking it shut.
«Hm? Oh yeah, fine. Just been a long time since I was on one of those. How do I do this, again?» I smiled.
«Oh, you'll be fine, it'll come back to you. It's just like.. erm, riding a bike,» he shrugged. «Just... hold on tight and lean into the bends.»
«I remembered that bit,» I smiled, feeling a little better. This was James, after all. Captain Slow, who could drive just about everything in the world whether it had two wheels, four wheels, wings or rotors. He knew how to have fun, but out of the three on Top Gear he seemed to be the one who was safer doing it. And I felt safe with James, I always did, and I knew he'd be careful with me.
«I thought we might stop somewhere around Box Hill, should take about an hour and a half, it's nice down there. Just to check how your arse is doing,» he said with a smirk. I eyed him up and down, he looked sexy in his tight, black leathers, a bandana tied around his neck, hair blowing in the breeze.
«I'm sure my arse will be just fine,» I laughed, pulling on the leather gloves. James hanged his helmet on the handle of the bike, straddled it and started it up, it was evident he had done this a million times before. The bike spluttered into life with a loud, low growl that made my heart beat a little faster, it sounded a little dangerous, a little angry, but beckoning me for adventure.
«Hop on!» He shouted over the din of the engine. Just as I was about to get on I noticed that the little footrests intended for the passenger were folded up, and I unfolded them before getting on the bike while James kept us balanced. «Good girl, you passed the first test,» he said loudly over his shoulder.
«I don't fancy melting my boots on the exhaust!» I shouted back, a little annoyed, and he gave me another one of those «you never seize to surprise me»-looks.
«Listen, tap my shoulder twice if you want to stop for some reason, all right? Don't waste your breath shouting, we won't hear each other.». I nodded and smiled, then pulled on my helmet, closed the chin strap and clamped down the visor. My stomach was playing host to thousands of butterflies in wild flight, suddenly I was extremely nervous. I clapped my arms around James waist, clinging on for safety and comfort while he put on his own helmet. My stomach did another excited swoop as James gently pushed off and we drove slowly out of the little residential street. Through the first corner I had to fight my instincts, it felt so counter-intuitive to lean into a bend when your instinct told you to lean away from it to try and remain as upright as possible. Reminding myself we wouldn't fall over I did what I knew I was supposed to do, and by the next corner it felt easier. I had guessed that getting out of the residential area and out of London would be the busiest part, and probably the most chaotic and scary. I was right, there were cars and bikes and people everywhere, and I spent most of the first ten minutes with my eyes clamped shut, clinging on to James for dear life. As we got out onto the A3 the chaos and traffic eased up. Finally I managed to relax a little, loosen my grip on James and actually have a look around. It was a sunny, mild day in early May, the trees and grass was already green and the flowers were in full bloom. It was nice to leave the city behind, the concrete and tarmac and the masses of buildings, just having the open road in front of us, the scenery becoming more and more rural the further away from London we got. The feeling of freedom and the rush of adventure was unbelievable and I had no problems understanding why James and Richard loved riding their bikes so much. On our way down to Dorking and Box Hill I decided that I was definitely going to get my license after all. Before I knew it James drove us into a carpark at the bottom of Box Hill and came to a halt, turning the engine off. I got off the bike a little stiffly and took my helmet off, grinning from ear to ear.
«Having fun?» James said with a satisified little smile, amused by my ecstatic face.
«Yes!!» I said, nodding eagerly. James parked and got off his bike.
«And the arse?»
«Just fine,» I smirked.
«I'll go get us some tea, you go sit down.» James gestured to the big field of grass at the bottom of the hill. It was a nice, sunny day and the hill was swarming with of locals and tourist making their way up the windy road leading up to the top of the hill. After a while James returned with two paper cups of tea and chocolate bars from the burger van across the carpark. He sat down stiffly next to me on the grass with a little groan, placing his helmet next to mine.
«Am I an awful passenger?» I peered at him over my cup of tea.
«What? No, no. You did seem to cling on like a petrified monkey for the first ten minutes, but after that you've been exemplary,» he chuckled.
«I was a little scared at first,» I admitted. «But, like you said, you never forget. It's strange though, being on a motorcycle is this wonderful mix of excitement and sheer terror. It's scary because you're so vulnerable, there's nothing separating you from the cars and things around you, and if you should fall off there's nothing separating you from the tarmac apart from a thin layer of leather. And frankly that's a terrifying thought. In a car you have all sorts of gadgets helping you out, ESP and anti-lock-breaks, shock-absorbers and airbags. If you crash, you might have a chance of surviving. If you crash on a motorcycle, you're history. But then again, that's part of the excitement as well. You're much closer to everything, to the engine and all the moving parts, you get a much better sense of the machine you're using. Steering and cornering suddenly becomes fun. There's nothing to help you out, it's all you, you're in total control. If you screw it up, you're the only one to blame, so you better stay awake. But I like it, it's about freedom and doing what you want.»
«See, you get it. Jeremy doesn't,» James said, shaking his head.
«I thought Jezza had an epiphany in Vietnam?»
«He had one, briefly. Personally I think it was just sunstroke. He got over it as soon as he got home,» James sighed.
«It's one of those things where you either get it, or you just don't, I guess. I don't know Jeremy all that well, but my impression is that he just thinks motorcycles are uncomfortable, tedious, impractical and require way too much focus and physical labour.»
«Your impression is pretty accurate,» James observed. «What bikes did your dad and brother have? Do you know?»
«Yeah, I do. Well, my brother did a lot of dirt-biking in his teens, scaring the life out of our mum. Broke his collarbone doing it, too. I actually remember him giving me a ride around the block on it when I was like.. four, it's one of the very few things I remember from that age. He was very careful but it scared the daylights out of me nonetheless. Then in his twenties he bought himself this absolutely bonkers Suzuki, GSXR, over a thousand cc's. Completely mad. That's the one he did a wheelie on without warning me first. I nearly peed my pants. Then a few years later my dad and brother bought a Kawasaki together, I remember it was called something Ninja... ZX-6R or something? Anyway, I had a few nice rides with my dad on that one, but neither of them got to drive it as much as they liked so they got rid of it. You're only able to ride a motorcycle for three months out of the year anyway, the rest of it the weather is too bad. Plus, my dad never really like those sport racing bikes. «Plastic rockets» he called them, he didn't like the low driving positions on them. He'd be much happier on a something like that,» I said, pointing at James' motorcycle. «One where you could actually sit up pretty straight.»
«Emily, you can't talk like that, it turns me on,» James said in a quiet little hiss, shifting a little uneasily. My bike talk had obviously had an effect on him. Supporting himself on one arm he leaned in closer, brushing his lips over my cheek and down towards my ear. I squirmed, the light touch of his lips almost tickling.
«You asked!» I pointed out.
«Still, you should know better,» he mumbled against my skin.
«James, there's people around...» I warned, trying to push him away, if a little halfheartedly.
«Don't care.» In the little time we'd been sitting there I had noticed that James was attracting a lot of attention, even if no one had approached us to talk to him yet. Looking around I could tell that people were trying to surreptitiously stare at us, obviously wondering if that really was James and who he was with. I gave him a quick kiss and pulled away from him a little.
«James, you better stop it, people are staring...»
«I know, I know,» he sighed, pulling away from me and trying to arrange his face in an innocent, neutral grimace. «But I like it when you're strict,» he added, then chuckled loudly. If any passers by had been wondering if that really was James May, they didn't doubt it any longer – everyone knew that laugh. I shook my head exasperatedly at him.
«You're impossible,» I laughed.
«We should just make this public some day, though, get it over with. We live together, we're going to be seen together, it's inevitable. We might as well just try and get ahead of the papers for once,» James pointed out, turning serious.
«I know, I know, we should. Can we just... wait until I have a job? Can you picture the headlines? 'James May dating 27 year old, unemployed woman.' Everyone will just think I'm this... golddigger!» I frowned, imagining just how evil British tabloids could be.
«But.. Isn't that what you are?» James said, raising an eyebrow.
«James!» I squakwed in affronted tones, trying to hit every part of him I could reach. He laughed loudly while mockingly cowering away from me, trying to shield himself from my weak punches. I could only imagine how this looked to the onlookers, us rolling around in the grass pretend-fighting and giggling.
«Joking! Joking!» He shouted. I decided I had punished him enough and stopped hitting him. «Okay you're not a gold-digger, but you're bordering on abusive,» he snorted, opened his chocolate bar and had a bite. Amazingly my cup of tea had survived the kerfuffle and I had a sip. «Why didn't you ever get a motorcycle license?» James asked out of the blue.
«Huh? Me?»
«Yeah, I mean... Your brother and dad both had bikes. You seem to like bikes and you grew up around all sorts of motors. So why didn't you ever get a bike?»
«Because... In Norway, everything is ridiculously expensive. Getting a license, road taxes, vehicle taxes, petrol, everything. And then there's the bad weather thing. It just seemed like such a huge investment considering the amount of time and fun I would get out of it.»
«Ah. That makes sense, really. But you live in England now, weather is much better. Get it here?» He suggested, looking at me hopefully. I had to bite my tongue in an effort to look neutral and not give away the surprise I had planned.
«Yeah, the thought has crossed my mind. We'll see, first I need to get a job and sort things out,» I said noncommittally, still struggling to keep a straight face. «Are you really sure you'd want me to start driving a motorcycle though? Wouldn't that just ruin the boys' fun playtime, having a girl along?»
«Why does it have to only be the boys' fun playtime?» James argued.
«I thought you wanted girls to be proper girls,» I maintained, giving him a teasing smile. «And not zoom around on motorcycles and play with the boys' toys.»
«You are a proper girl,» he said. «With your makeup and your sexy underwear and your... breasts..» he added, letting his eyes pass over my chest.
«You're getting distracted, May,» I said dryly.
«Yes, I like when women act like women,» James admitted. «But that doesn't automatically exclude women from things like riding motorcycles. I would like it if you started riding a motorcycle. Not because I don't like having you as a passenger, but because I think you'd get bored of it very quickly and you'd have more fun driving yourself. And it would be nice to have a girlfriend who shared my interest and wanted to participate in that part of my life. I've never had that before.»
«Aw, that's.. sweet,» I smiled, running hand over his cheek. «I feel for you, though, such boring girlfriends you must've had!»
«Or maybe you're just particularly interesting,» he said with a cheeky smile. «Ready to get going?» He gestured towards the Triumph again. I nodded and awkwardly got to my feet, encumbered by the leather pants.

I was surprised at how quickly time flew by and how much I enjoyed being on a motorcycle. The rush of wind, just driving for driving's sake, seeing more of England, I was loving it all. Before I knew it three hours had passed, and we stopped for a quick and easy dinner at a pizza place in Purley before starting on the last stretch back home. I was less than graceful when I stumbled off the back of the motorcycle 45 minutes later. My body felt stiff and a little battered, not used to the seating position or feeling so much of the surface of the road while driving. I actually felt tired, but a pleasant kind of tired, like after a workout. I drew a deep breath of fresh air when I got the clammy helmet off and unzipped the jacket. James tossed me the key and I opened the garage door so James could wheel the motorcycle in and I closed the door behind him. James parked and we both busied ourselves getting out of our motorcycle leathers. It was a relief to get out them, without them I felt oddly light all of a sudden. I folded the clothes away neatly and placed the helmet on top. Thinking I might make us some tea I headed for the door leading into James' house. Just as I touched the handle I felt James' hand around my wrist, holding me back. Before I knew what was going on I was flipped around and pinned up against the cold metal of the heavy, red industrial door. His hands were on my hips, holding me in place. He leaned in low, going straight for my neck, brushing his lips over the sensitive skin.
«Where do you think you're going?» He asked against my skin in a low, gravelly voice.
«Tea...» I squeaked feebly. My voice hitched in my throat as I felt James' wet lips, then his wet tongue caress my skin. Without thinking I wrapped my arms around him, tangling one hand into his hair.
«Tea can wait...» He breathed. He slipped one hand from my hip down my thigh, taking hold of my leg by the knee and wrapping it around his own hip, pressing himself harder up against me. The warm, hard bulge pressing against me gave away how turned on he already was. He raised his head to look at me, his eyes hazy with arousal. «I've had your arms around me all day. Your legs wrapped around me, your knees pressed against my hips. Your breasts pressed against my back. And you've been wearing leather. It's been driving me mad,» he explained. I couldn't even bring myself to answer, my brain wasn't working. My chest was heaving and I was already breathing open-mouthed, transfixed by James' urgent passion. Suddenly everything he touched felt electric. «I know it's been on your mind, too,» he continued. «The way you've been caressing me while we were driving home. Your hands on my hips, on my thighs. It's been very.. distracting...» All I managed was to nod feebly, admitting that he was right. On our last stretch back home my mind had been wandering and I found myself reliving several sexy memories. Something about being on that motorcycle turned me on. I couldn't tell if it was the vibrations from the bike beneath me, or the way James seemed so in control and in charge of the situation when he was driving, or the fact that he was all in leather. Or maybe it was just the fact that it was a little dangerous. James mouth was on my neck again, urgent and needy.
«Bed..?» I suggested, my vocabulary reduced to one-syllable words.
«No time,» James huffed. He pulled back a little, but only to quickly pull my top over my head and off. As soon as it was gone he pushed me back up against the door, pinning me to it.
«Oh fuck, cold!» I exclaimed in a high-pitched voice as my hot skin hit the ice cold metal of the door.
«Shit, sorry,» he apologised hurriedly, stepping back to pull me away from the door. Already missing the contact I quickly closed the gap between us and cupped his head in my hands, pulling him in. I attacked his mouth with mine, sucking on his bottom lip, I was as frantic as he was now. Letting go of his head I moved my hands to his sweater, tugging at it, pulling it and the t-shirt underneath off in one go. Still kissing like we hadn't seen each other for years we stumbled across the floor towards the battered sofa. When James' legs hit the sofa he sat down and pulled me into his lap. I felt his erection beneath me even through his jeans and my own, trapped between us. My pussy was burning, throbbing, and I rubbed my hips against his over and over, grinding him. The friction I felt was enough to offer a little relief. James huffed and groaned into my mouth, his hands firmly on my bum, wanting to take control of my grinding. I knew James' cock would be almost painful by now, straining against his boxers and jeans. I moved my mouth to James' neck and trailed kisses down his collarbone and chest as I sank down to my knees on the floor between his legs. Kissing his stomach I began undoing his belt and jeans while I locked eyes with him, giving him my most naughty look. He sighed heavily with relief when I undid his jeans and his cock was freed. I pulled his boxers down enough to free him completely. I didn't do this often enough, I knew how much he loved it and I wanted to do it to him more often. I licked my lips and flicked a wet tongue over the glistening head of James' cock, still staring hungrily into his eyes. «What.. has gotten into you?» He panted, running his hand over my hair and entangling his fingers in it.
«I could ask you the same, you started it,» I said with a crooked little smile. I wrapped one hand around his cock and pumped him slowly. «I don't know, maybe riding a motorcycle just turns me on.» I broke our stare and closed my eyes before closing my mouth around the tip of his cock, running my tongue around the head slowly. I heard James' sharp intake of breath and how he groaned throatily. Slowly I slid James' cock into my mouth, caressing his thighs all the while. I began bobbing my head, sliding him in and out of my wet, warm mouth.
«Bloody Norah...» he said with a strained moan, his fingers still entangled in my hair. Instinctively he raised his hips up to me a little. I maintained a steady pace on his cock, pleased to hear James' moans and heavy breathing, and to feel him twitch with pleasure. «Emily, stop, stop, or I'm..» he said hurriedly. I stopped and slid him slowly out of my mouth, not ready for him to come just yet. James arms reached out for mine and he pulled me upwards. I crawled back into the sofa, standing on my knees straddling one of his thighs. The need to kiss him was a physical, painful one and I covered his mouth with mine again, kissing him feverishly. Clumsily James undid my jeans and impatiently pushed a hand into my panties, his hand felt almost cold against my fever-hot pussy. He didn't waste time and two fingers immediately found my clit and started rubbing it resolutely. I whinced against his lips and ran my hand over his chest and down his side. My head was swimming, all that existed was the throbbing heat between my legs and James' fingers against my clit. The pleasure rose quickly in me and I was surprised to realise that I actually could've climaxed this way, just grinding against James' fingers. His fingers slowed down and his hand disappeared from my panties. Looking into his eyes I could tell he couldn't bear it anymore, he needed me. Now. And I needed him. He tugged at my jeans and panties and I got up from the sofa, helping him. Then it was his turn, he raised his hips and I pulled his jeans and boxers down over his bum and pulled them off. Finally naked, at least naked enough, James pulled me back into the sofa and pushed me down on my back, coming to rest on top of me. His cock was against my pussy again, I instinctively rubbed myself against him and breathed heavily in his ear. I didn't know what to focus on, the wet lips sucking on the skin of my neck, the rough, strong hand kneading my breast or the friction I felt against my pussy. «Turn around,» James growled against my skin. I did has he asked without even thinking and turned over on my stomach. His hands took a firm hold of my hips, pulling me up on my knees. Raising myself on my arms I supported myself on the armrest of the sofa, more comfortable on all fours. I bit my lip and huffed in frustration when James rubbed the tip of his cock against my opening, teasing me. Impatiently I pushed back against him, desperate to have him inside me and I failed to stifle a moan as he made his way inside me.
«Oh fuck, good...!» I whinced as he began thrusting in and out of me. My heart was hammering wildly in my chest and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. We hadn't done this position before and right now it was extremely arousing. Being taken from behind felt a little naughty, it was kinky and animalistic and fit the mood perfectly. It felt new and exciting, in this position James' cock hit my G-spot, this was better than anything I had ever felt before. James' hand was on my sides, controlling the pace and angle. I pushed back against him as much as I could in search for more friction. James leaned over me, pushing himself deep into me and staying there, kissing my shoulder and the side of my neck. I reached around and dug one hand into his hip, keeping him deep inside me, enjoying the kisses. James' palm slid up my stomach and cupped a breast, kneading it while rubbing his thumb over my rock-hard nipple. Gently I rocked back against him and the tiny movement was just enough to make his cock brush up against my G-spot. But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. I let go of his hip and supported myself on my arms again, pushing impatiently back against him. One of James' hands were still on my hip, with the other he pushed my upper body down towards the sofa. With the change in angle James came even deeper inside me, hitting my g-spot more sharply. James began thrusting faster and more sharply into me, chasing his climax now. All I could hear was our bodies pounding into each other and our loud moans and heavy panting. As if he read my mind he managed to wrap one arm around my waist and his fingers found my clit again. The sensation was so intense I thought I was going to climax instantly and I pushed myself faster back against him, moaning even louder. «Oh god, James, more...» I begged, feeling the orgasm somewhere just out of reach. He thrust a little harder into me and it was just enough to push me over and send me on my way towards a much needed release. I tried to warn him that I was coming but I didn't have any breath with which to speak. But James didn't need a warning, he knew anyway by how my legs began shaking and the way I clenched around his cock.
«Fuck, Emily...!» He began, but my name just turned into a loud, drawn-out moan as he rode out his own climax. When James' moans subsided I slumped down on the sofa and James came to rest on top of me, his chest against my back. We were both heaving for air and I had a painful sting in my chest due to lack of oxygen. With every breath James took our sweaty skin slid against each other. Gradually we regained our breaths.
«Are you.. okay?» James asked quietly, still slightly breathless. I was a little surprised at the question and craned my neck to look at him. He pulled back, giving me room to turn around underneath him. I rested my head against the armrest and looked down up at James with a tired smile.
«Of course I am, why shouldn't I be...?» I ran a hand over his clammy forehead, brushing some hair away from his face.
«I wasn't, you know... too rough with you?» He looked almost ashamed when he asked. It was like he had totally lost control for a moment and wasn't quite sure what had happened.
«I wanted it. I wanted you to be,» I assured him, but he still looked a little tense and worried. «James, relax, I'm fine. Are you all right, though?» I asked, my mouth curving upwards in a little smirk.
«I'm fine.» He smiled embarrasedly and blushed a little, then buried his face against my neck in an effort to hide his flustered face. I didn't quite know what he was embarrassed about, but I guessed it might be because he'd let go and just followed his animalistic instincts, and now he felt awkward about it. I kissed his sweaty forehead.
«You know, that was... absolutely amazing,» I whispered against his salty skin, wanting to reassure him that he had nothing to feel embarrassed about. Sex had never felt more natural or safer than it did with James, and I wasn't embarrassed about anything we'd done, now or before. I loved the fact that I could just let go so completely as I could with James, and that he was able to do the same with me.
«Mmh, it was,» he said and raised his head to give me a long kiss. «But now I think you might have to carry me into the house, I'm not sure I can move,» he added. I laughed loudly, imagining trying to carry a naked James anywhere.
«If I tried that we would both get rather spectacularly badly hurt,» I chortled. James sighed heavily and sat up, pretending to be disappointed I couldn't carry him. My sweaty skin immediately felt cold in the chill of the garage. He fished his boxers out from the crumpled heap of his jeans and pulled them on, then found my panties and handed them to me. I sat up and kissed his chek. «How about that cup of tea, then?»
«Sounds good.» I quickly pulled on my top, gathered the rest of my clothes and padded bare-legged through to the house. In the kitchen I deposited my jeans on a chair and set about making cups of tea. A few minutes later we curled up on the sofa and buried ourselves under a blanket. A silence descended over both of us as we sipped our tea, relaxing against each other. I still felt a little stiff and battered from the motorcycle ride, and what had come next probably hadn't eased that. But I felt happy, and content, and violently in love.
«I've had such a good day,» I sighed happily. «You need to take me on more bike rides.»
«Yeah? I have, too,» he smiled. «Of course, whenever you want.»