"The cast was the only fucking thing keeping me off my bike, sugar-tits!" Belle giggled. "Sure, nice and slow at first. Just hold on tight and lean with the bike, keep your knees and elbows tucked in, and if we do come off, take the hit on the back of your jacket as much as possible."<br/><br/>The engine roared to life, Belle dabbed the bike into gear, rocked it off the stand and let the clutch out as she wound up the throttle, all in one smooth combined motion. The bike surged forward, at probably the lowest speed possible for the machine, given the need for it to move at a minimum speed in order to stay balanced on two wheels. At the bottom of the driveway, Belle stopped and put a toe down. "Keep your feet on the pillion pegs. I can hold us both up, but if we move forward and your foot is down, it could break your ankle, or worse, rip your foot right off, especially if it gets caught in the back wheel." With that dire warning, she saw a gap in the traffic and shot out into it, cruising along at the speed limit, heading out of the city. Up onto a freeway, where she began to weave through the slower moving vehicles, still sticking to the 55 mph limit, then down, off the interstate and onto a state highway that led dead straight across the open flat countryside. Here, she opened the bike up, the engine roared and the machine surged forward. "YEEEEEEEEEHOOOOO!" Her yell of joy at the power of the metal beast between her thighs was also a yell of freedom.<br/><br/>It was different though, too. The ageing drummer couldn't remember the last time she'd had someone riding pillion behind her. The arms wrapped tight around her felt good, as did the weight against her back. It was<i>supposed</i>to be like this. Having someone ride behind her was the natural order of things. The thighs pressed against her hips felt warm and strong too. Belle grinned inside her helmet and pushed the obvious thought, about being between Taz' legs, away. That was unworthy. Although she did find the girl to be unexpectedly attractive. But Taz was never going to go for some wrinkled old prune, no matter how much money she had to offer the kid. Better to concentrate on the empty road ahead.<br/><br/>The straight road ended as the bike ate the miles, and suddenly they were weaving through a wooded area, the road twisting and turning, Belle flipping the machine from side to side, the sliders on her knees barely off the blacktop. And all the while the road was climbing, Now they burst from the trees back into sunlight, the visors on both helmets polarising automatically to shield their their eyes. Now the road was winding up into the hills, twisting around some tight turns that Belle was forced to slow down for, and one where she had to force herself to continue. The oil was gone, the road was dry and the tyres clung to the tarmac. The bend she had come off at the last time she'd been on the bike. There was no trace of the accident left - not on her, not on the road and not on the bike. No reason to even hesitate.<br/><br/>After half an hour, she slowed and pulled off the road. She stopped and put both feet down, rocked the bike onto its stand, and killed the engine. Belle pulled her helmet off and set it on the tank then swung herself off the bike. "Here we are. Take a look over there." She led the way to a low railing and pointed back down the way they'd come. The valley was spread out before them, lit by the sun, the woodland a dark green splotch, the city a grey smudge in the distance. Without thinking, Belle put a leather clad arm around Taz' shoulders as they stood to take in the view.