Girl on a Motorcycle

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It was a normal Friday afternoon (or so I thought) when I left work. The weather was sunny and the sky blue. I was in a good mood as I was going to spend the weekend en-femme and also indulging in my other favourite pastime of riding my Bike.

I sat astride my weekday machine, put my open face crash helmet on, adjusted my flying goggles and kicked the aged but very beautiful '69 Bonnieville into life.

The ride home was done almost in a flash such that my mind was really elsewhere. Thank god for built-in "autopilots".

Once home, I parked the Bonnie next to my other special machine and hurried into my house. The package was there as I had left it that very morning. My heart was racing as I picked it up and ran upstairs.

I stripped naked and went to the bathroom. I checked my body all over. All the effort I had put in the previous evening was not in vain. I was totally hairless from the neck down.

I ran the water into the sink until it was really hot. I rinsed a flannel in the water and applied it to my face. I held it in place with one hand while I prepared my cutthroat razor for use.

I gave myself a very close shave for the second time that day. My chin was very smooth.

Upon entering the bedroom, I sat at my vanity table and prepared to put on my Makeup. Concealer, Foundation and dusting powder provided the base from which to work.

Gold & Brown eye shadow blended together.

Black eyeliner along both lids ending in a little upward 'tick'.
A Light touch with the black eye brow pencil accentuated the eyes. I always loved my eyes.

False lashes top & bottom followed by lots of ink black mascara completed the eyes. I loved the feeling I got from wearing them.

Now for my lips, brown for the outer line followed by a deep ruby red. Perfect.

I brushed my receding hair out of the way and put on the blonde bob styled wig that was sitting on the polystyrene head to my left.
I slipped a pair of silver studs into the single piercing in both ears and that was my head all done.

I trimmed a little from my nails with an emery board and applied a couple of coats of red nail polish. My toes were already that colour.

Then I glued my breast forms in place. I loved the feeling they gave especially when not wearing a bra.

I opened the drawer to my right and pulled out a black suspender belt and a pair of 10-denier black stocking. These were special extra long ones I had purchased in Paris while on a trip to the Le Mans 24hr bike race last year. These came right to the top on my thighs. Perfect. I gently put the stockings on and attached them to the suspenders.

From the same drawer I pulled out a pair of lace knickers. The design matched the lacy stocking tops and the suspender belt. I put them on and tucked my penis out of the way. This was not so easy as I was getting quite excited about the next step.

I went over to the bed and opened the package. I pulled out the contents. My heart was racing. It was gorgeous.

I undid the zips on the front and legs and slipped into the soft leather cocoon. The fur lining tickled my skin. I slid my feet into the 5-inch heels and did up the small zips at both ankles. I slid the suit up over my body and fed my arms into the holes. The attached gloves were of even softer leather but still fur lined.

My whole bodies shivered as I did up the front zip and felt the high collar faster around my neck.

I pulled out the leather helmet from the wrapping and zipped it to the suit. I then settled my mouth around the built in gag. I was totally encased in soft fur lined leather apart from my eyes.

I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. I was a beauty in black.
Lastly, I put on the 1950's style 'pudding basin' crash helmet and prepared to leave my home,

I shut the front door behind me and opened the garage. Not the Bonnieville this time but something more fitting for someone encased in black.

I opened the petrol cocks and tickled the twin carbs. I set the timing to fully retard and pulled the valve lifter in. I folded out the kick-start and gently eased the big V-Twin over a couple of compressions. It felt really strange doing this in high heels. I brought the rear pot up to compression before giving a big heave and letting go if the valve lifter at the same time. The powerful engine caught first time and settled into an easy tick-over.

I stepped over the saddle and eased the big beast off its rear stand. It felt so different from the many times I have done this before.
I pulled the in the clutch and pressed down with my right foot and engaged first gear. I gently let it out and I was off.

I headed out of my drive and onto the winding road down the glen. With the sun slowly setting behind me, I took off into up the west coast of Skye past the Talisker Distillery and towards the ancestral home of my clan, the Macleods.

Two hours later as the darkness increased I was heading back up the glen doing well over the ton. The big black 1953 Vincent 'Black Prince' (why did they never make a Black Princess?) was going well. I never saw the aged Volvo 240DL driving tourist who was hopelessly lost in the gathering gloom. I knew in an instant that this was it as I came round the corner to find him straddling the whole road.

My last thoughts in this life were of my heroine. Marianne Faithful in the 1969 film, 'Girl on a Motorcycle'…

- This is a re-post of a story I posted in 2004 on storysite. It was one of the first TG stories I ever wrote and remains one of my favourites.
I remember sneaking into the Embassy Cinema to see Girl on a Motorcycle. I was under age at the time te-he. She rode a Harley. Well it was a V-Twin at least.

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Comments

speachless

That was great. I normally dont read the short stories but I thought I would try this one and wow was it worth it.

I have a T150 and love going out early on a sat morning around snowdon. You just are so relaxed with the sun rise and next to no one else out on the roads. It's the feeling of peace, like everything is right. Then a tractor pulls out a little side lane lol.

Any way I really like the story
Dwp

Oh, the anticipation

Working up to a great ride and then to end like that.

S.

I Didn't Have

A '69 Bonneville, but I sort of had it bracketed. (I had one down from it and one up from it.) I had a '67 Triumph Daytona, 500 which was stolen in Boston in '72 and a '71 Norton Commando, 750 that I had until '79.

In the mid '90s Kim and I had some V twin Kawasaki Vulcans, I had an '89 750, 5 speed which had a high output (for it's displacement) engine and Kim had a 1500, a big cruiser, only 4 speeds because it had massive torque. We rode these with the dyke MC group.

Hugs and Bright Blessings,
Renee

Thanks for the comments. The

Thanks for the comments.

The trailer to the '69 film is on the internet. Take a look and you will get the idea of what I was trying to portray in the preparation
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNvXVkbxK2Q

The feeling of freedom that you can get early in the morning on the open road is fantastic. I still ride Triumphs. I have two at the moment. A 2011 Tiger 1050 and a 1982 T140AV Executive.

I'm just about to go out for a run on the Tiger. I'll probably end up having breakfast somewhere between Oxford and Evesham. It is a pity that it is overcast and grey today.

Girl on a motorcycle

Marianne to the male lead, slightly unzipping her one-piece leather:

"Skin me"

Pity the riding scenes were so poor. The bike was on a trailer, and stayed bolt upright throughout.

As for HRD Vincents, may I refer you to the dream bike in my story 'Cold Feet'? It's a Norvin...

'X' Rated...

As a Sixteen year old seeing their first 'X' rated flick with someone like Marianne in many states of undress who really cared about the riding scenes?
We had 'On Any Sunday' for that.

I had a good ride today and ended up at the 'Ace' Cafe for lunch. I can remember the original one in the late 1950's/early '60's. Still a good crowd there today.

I will take a look at 'Cold Feet'. Thanks.

'On Any Sunday' ...

... was (and perhaps still is) a popular film on the Isle of Man in TT week. It made a change from George Formby in 'No Limit' :)

I was club motor cyclist for many years and enjoyed riding in and organising sporting trials which was the back-bone of the club. Never was a cafe racer and got my thrills from exploring green lanes throughout England and Wales on usually totally unsuitable machines from Velocettes to flat twin BMWs. I lived not too far from the Ace cafe in the 1950s (Welwyn) but never bothered visiting. Being quite near Stevenage there were always quite a few Vincents around but they were way out of my meagre price range.

Robi

TT

I remember sitting in a bike club meeting where they were showing a film of the TT including a lot of bikecam footage. I looked away from the screen and saw that all the bikers were unconsciously leaning into the bends...

All she needed was a BSA

All she needed was a BSA Lightning next to the Vincent. Funny, a story like this is why I stopped riding my XLCH.

Karen