Inexperienced passengers and bad habits

Semi-related note. My boyfriend, when we had been dating about a month, told me one morning that we had moved the R3 to the other side of his driveway the night before so that he could get the compressor out of the garage. Almost blew as gasket, then told him that I love the R3 more than anything else and to pllleeeaaaasse let me know before touching it again.

Not my husband, not your property, folks. Most of the time, I only want people to touch my bikes if they are getting on it to go somewhere with me. Ah.... cathartic venting. feels good.
Kinda like this . . . . . . .
 
I suppose I am the ‘bad’ pillion of my story. Years ago, I took my second wife to the local HD shop after she completed her MSF class in hopes of convincing her to get a cruiser as her first ride instead of a sport bike (which is her first choice). They brought out a shiny new 883C for her to ride while following a rider from the shop. In this case, the shop rider was an extremely hot motorcycle safety instructor and I would guess a gymnast from her physique. This “Lady” stated that I could come along on the ride if I could handle riding “*****” with a girl rider. She was riding a Street Glide tricked out with all the accessories for low and fast-by-HD-standards. I would normally pass, but this day I was thinking riding ‘*****’ might be ok. She started it up and I climbed aboard. She said “Hang on if you’re not too shy” so I wrapped my hands around that firm waist and remembered why I am not homosexual. Anyway, she took off at a good clip and I think the wife behind us may have a tough time keeping up. After a few minutes, my chauffer asks if I am comfortable and I say yes. She then says that most guys would never ride with her, that they are either to macho or too timid to hang on to a girl. I said I would never pass up a chance to hang on to a pretty girl while she expresses her own freedom. She wore a half shirt under a tight vest and without trying (honestly); I soon discovered my hands on her bare belly. I of course remembered to drop my hands to my side at the first stop light before the wife pulled up alongside. The HD girl asked the wife is she was doing ok and all I could was a giant smile from her from under her helmet and a simple nod that she was doing fine. The light turns green and off we go. Biker girl tells me I will need to hang on again for safety sake, and being a compliant fellow, I do as I’m told.
Since I have no pictures, none of this could be possible true, so I will simply say she was a friendly biker and I was a bad pillion. (Probably the most fun I ever had on a Harley though…)
PS. The wife got a Ninja later that week because she didn’t like the Sportster’s “Old Man” look.
PSS. Cyndi (the HD girl) loves to be held…
 
That is a given. But I figure, if all else fails, I can outrun most of these old farts. Or at least their knees will probably blow out first. Bwahahaha!

What do you mean, run, we have motorcycles and a torque/horsepower addiction. ;)
 
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