Free Softail Curves II by D. H. Cameron

I felt the wind in my face as we wound up the curvy , two-lane mountain road towards the lake. I held Dutch tight enjoying the exhilarating freedom as he mastered the tight curves of the road just as he maneuvered around my own curves with his hands. Dutch always assured me he babied the throttle so as not to frighten me, just like in bed when he told me he was holding back for my benefit, but I felt like we were going a hundred miles per hour.
    Sheila pulled up next to us with Locke just behind her. The three bikes cruised up the mountain in perfect harmony, the roar echoing for miles. Sheila was on her 1200 Custom Sportster decked out in deep red. Locke was on his custom chopper with the raked front end and wild graphics. Dutch and I rode his custom Heritage Softail, a classic Harley that I had come to adore as much for its smooth ride as its sturdy good looks. Just like its owner.
    We reached the lake and found a spot to pull off the road. It was late summer, still warm, but the crowds were gone. We found a nice little beach down below and after a short hike, the four of us settled in for a pleasant afternoon. We savored the warm weather before it gave way to the cooler temperatures of fall. Of course, with these three it wasn’t long before trouble, the good kind, found us. I still wasn’t quite used to the spontaneous and wild nature of Dutch and his friends but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it.
    Sheila stood up as she finished her beer . Dutch and Sheila had brought them along in their saddlebags packed in ice. As we all watched, Sheila started to peel off her clothes. She seemed to like getting naked, especially where she shouldn’t. “Come on, let’s go skinny-dipping,” she said as she almost fell over trying to pull off her boot.
    “Sheila!” I exclaimed as I laughed. Dutch and Locke watched her as she stripped completely naked. Her long red hair and pale, nearly flawless skin made her quite the beauty. She had a small patch of unruly red hair above her pink mound, which she kept smooth. I didn’t blame Dutch for watching. Hell, so was I. Sheila was beautiful by anyone’s standards and I could appreciate what the men saw in her.
    “You go, baby!” Locke said as he chugged his beer, got up and began to pull off his own clothes. I looked at Dutch and he smiled back and shrugged.
    “Shall we?” I asked . Dutch stood and offered me his hand. After he pulled me to my feet, we both stripped naked. I should have been embarrassed to get naked like this, but I wasn’t. Sheila was so pretty with a fantastic body but the way Dutch looked at me made me feel just as pretty. I was learning to appreciate myself the way he did and it felt good. Besides, amongst the four of us it didn’t seem anyone cared what anyone looked like. I never felt inadequate around any of them.
    Sheila was in the water before the rest of us, diving in and then floating on her back. Locke was right behind her and soon all of us were swimming in the mountain lake. It wasn’t as cold as I would have thought, especially after I got used to it. From the water, we could hear the cars on the road above, but couldn’t see them. Skinny-dipping was kind of naughty, something my old friends would never have done.
    I used to hang around a completely different crowd, most ly urban professionals. We all fancied ourselves as being pretty hip but elitist might have been a better term. My supposed friend, Becky, turned on me after I began seeing Dutch. She wasn’t impressed with the biker or my appreciation of him. She claimed to be tolerant but when I no longer lived my life the way she thought I should, she kicked me to the curb. I’d found new friends and they didn’t have conditions.
    Now, I was living a completely different life. Office drone by day, sexy, big girl biker bitch by night. I never realized how stifling my old life had become. I didn’t even realize how I was striving to conform to fit the narrow definition of what was