It was 1970, and I had just passed my driving test. My Mum had helped me buy a red Morris Mini. It had passed its best days, and rust was beginning to show in places. I didn’t mind. It gave me freedom to go wherever, and when I wanted. It was a sunny early morning in May. I had filled up with petrol, and had moved the car into a parking bay, as I wanted not only to pay for the fuel, but buy some cigarettes. I was just coming out of the kiosk when I heard the sound of a powerful motorbike. I looked up, and there it was slowing down and turning into the forecourt. I later found out that it was a brand new Honda CR750 racer. It was black and shiny with chrome wheel rims and spokes, which set everything off against the black….. I also noted that the exhausts were matt black, and look fantastic.
I kinda lolled on the bonnet of the Mini, and lit up a ciggy, just watching an amazing sight. The biker sat astride the bike, and reached over and poked the fuel hose between his legs, as he filled up the tank of his bike. I couldn’t drink everything in. He looked about 6` and slim, but not weedy. He had on a black one-piece racing suit, which looked if it was sprayed on, and it shined in the sunlight. He had tall black leather boots that went up just below the knee, with grey marl sea-boot socks the tops neatly folded over the top of the boots. I noticed that he was filling the bike up without taking off his black leather gloves. The best was yet to come though. He was wearing a shiny black `pudding bowl style crash helmet. The ones that have a black leather nape neck protector that came around the front, covering the ears, and extending to a strap under the chin, fastened with a chrome buckle, again under the chin. He was wearing goggles with chrome rims and silver mirror lenses. But most intriguingly he wore a shiny black half face mask that ran from each side of the chin straps just leaving a small part of his nose sticking out from the black leather surround of the goggles, above the tight leather mask. I took all of this, in what seemed slow motion. For what seemed an age, he replaced the hose on the pump and dismounted his bike. He strode across the concrete forecourt. His boots made the familiar `clip-clop’ sound, as the steel heel and toe cleats hit the ground with each step.
In those days you could go into petrol stations without taking your helmet off, so he had entered the kiosk lidded, goggled, and masked.
My heart sank as he came back to his bike. It had all been too quick, and my cock was already amazingly hard. He straddled the bike, and fired up the engine. What a fantastic sound. But instead of pulling away into the road, he brought the bike up into the next parking bay.
He called me over, and I thought well it’s enough, but I bet he’s asking for directions. But he then said `I saw you admiring the bike, she’s great isn’t she?’ It wasn’t so much the bike I was admiring, I thought. We chatted on a bit about the bike, and all the while he was straddling the bike. His long legs wrapped in skin tight shiny black leather. He hadn’t even lifted his goggles, and was speaking through the tight black leather half face mask, which muffled his voice. I wondered what he looked like. because I couldn’t even tell what colour his eyes were through the mirror lenses of the goggles he was totally anonymous.
Right I thought. I’ve got make him linger longer, so I started asking about the bike, and with that he swung one leg over the bike, put the bike on the side stand, and came up right close facing me. He was a good 6` or so, powerfully built, but athletically lean. He thrust a tightly gloved hand into mine and said `I’m `John’, and I replied `I’m Nick, pleased to meet you’. With that he started slowly walking around the bike showing me what alterations he had done. Then I thought go for it Nick…I started asking him about his leathers, to which he released the press stud at one side of the mask, lifted his goggles up, and took his helmet off. He had a shock of golden blond hair, which he flicked back and the quiff settled. I noted he also had corn blue eyes and a blond tache….gees he was handsome, I thought. He started telling me about the gear he was wearing. All made by a leather firm I’d heard of - Lewis Leathers, in London. The tall boots were called Motorway, and the gloves were their racing gloves, which were unlined, because he liked the extra feel they gave. Then he started on the racing suit which was made to measure. He had asked for it to be made skin tight, as this would offer better protection if he came off the bike and slid down the road. Baggy leathers would ruck up and probably shred, whereas tight and smooth offered less resistance. The leather was double thickness at the shoulders, elbows, thighs, and the backside, which was called a saddle seat. He said that the suit had chrome zips at the bottom of the legs, and wrists, and the main zip down the front. I got the impression he was testing me when he said that he had asked for the main chrome zip of the suit to be a two way, so he could stand at the gents urinal, and have a pee without him having to half undress. Then my jaw must have dropped a little, when he explained that the suit was unlined to give extra freedom of movement. He went on to say that in the cooler months he wore a white cotton t-shirt underneath, but when it was warm like today, he wore nothing underneath, completely `commando’, as he put it!. With that he said `look’ unfastening the press stud of the mandarin style collar, and pulling down the main chrome zip half way down his chest……I could see a little of his bronzed smooth chest, with well defined pectoral muscles this guy worked out I thought. He had a gold St Christopher, and chain which glinted in the sun. He must have realised that I had spotted this, and with a gloved hand he stroked the medallion saying `well I need any help I can get, riding this thing’…and he laughed, showing a little of his beautiful white teeth. This guy is an Adonis in gleaming black leather!
We chatted for what seemed ages, and then he said, `wow, I better get going, I’m late’. My facial expression must have given away my disappointment. Then out of the blue he said ` look have you got pen and paper on you’? So, with that I went back to the car and got them. `Write down my address, and if you want to go pillion for a run out this Sunday morning, you’re welcome’. I must have looked puzzled, as I looked at the racing hump where the pillion seat would be. `No, it’s alright, I have another bike, just as fast as this one, and what’s more it’s got a pillion seat’. ` But what about gear I haven’t got any?’ I said. `You are about the same size and weight, I have plenty of gear that you can wear, I’m sure I can fix you up ok’ he replied. With that, he said `I better get moving’, he put on his helmet, clicked the face mask back into place, and pulled down his goggles. He athletically swung a leg over the bike, and fired it up. He shook my hand tightly, and through the mask in a muffled voice, said `see you Sunday at 9am, don’t be late’. He backed his bike up out of the parking bay, and roared off, glancing over his shoulder as he did so.
The time, and days seemed to drag, but after having a restless night Sunday morning arrived. I had a quick shower, got dressed and was on my way. As I got closer to John’s house I began feeling nervous, but also excited. I’d left the urban sprawl behind, and then after about 5 miles I came to his place. It looked more like a small holding with several barns, and garages. I parked the Mini up, and walked up to the front door. `Here I go, I thought’. I rang the bell, and the door was soon opened. There he was Adonis. He was wearing tiny, shiny black running shorts, a black vest, and white trainers, with no socks. His skin was glistening. He told me he had just come back from a 6 mile run. `Follow me up stairs, and whilst I’m having a shower, you can try on some of my gear, put on whatever you like’. We went upstairs, and into his bedroom. Against the far wall was a fitted wardrobe that stretched wall to wall, and by it was a full length gentleman’s mirror, on a stand. He slid the doors open, and there, concertinaed together was a wall of black leather. One-piece racing suits, jackets, some plain some studded, and jeans….loads of them. Along the floor of the wardrobe were boots of all kinds. Some tall knee length, others more the shorter racing boot. Along the inside top of the wardrobe ran a shelf, with helmets, goggles, gloves, and belts, some of which were studded. `Right help yourself,’ he said. And with that took off his top, kicked off his trainers, and turning around pulled down his shorts to his ankles, and stepped out of them. He was much tanned, but his butt was white, framed in a Speedo tan line. What a fantastic arse I thought, muscular, but pert at the same time. He strode out of the room and into the bathroom. Within a second I could here the shower running. He shouted to me above the noise of the water, that he was going to wear the same gear as when he had first met me. He also said it would be great if I chose to wear the same, so we’d look like leather twins, and that the suits were all the same size. Whilst John was splashing about in the shower, I took off my clothes and left them in a pile on the floor. At the far end of the wardrobe were several identical Lewis Leathers one-piece racing suits. In fact all the leather in the wardrobe was made by Lewis Leathers. This guy I thought must have nearly bought the shop. I picked a suit out, and started pulling it on, commando of course. It was a strange sensation, because this suit was also unlined. It was cold against my skin at first, then pleasantly warm. It fitted me perfectly, tight, very tight infract. But as the leather warmed up, it felt very comfortable. It felt fantastic, and was amazingly shiny. I zipped up the ankles, and wrists, and slowly pulled up the main chrome zip, being careful not to catch my bits on the way up. I zipped it up apart from the last few inches. I walked up to the mirror. I was amazed as to how it looked. It was if the shiny leather was sprayed on. It was then that I realised I had a massive hard-on. My cock was at a right angle, and perfectly outlined through the leather. I was just about to pull the zip down again, and re-adjust myself, when I happened to look over my shoulder and could see John propped up against the door. He was bollock naked, and must have been watching me the whole time. `Well somebody’s pleased with themselves’ he said. He must have seen my bulge, and I blushed, but smiled. `Well we better finish the job of kitting you out’ he said. And with that, he pulled out a pair of long sea-boot socks, out of a drawer, and knelt down and started putting them on me. I had never been dressed by any one before, especially by a sexy naked man. I couldn’t help look down at his cock and balls, the cock wagging round as he moved. He didn’t have a full hard-on, but a nice semi, and he was amply endowed. `Right socks on, now for the boots’ he said, reaching for a pair of Lewis Motorway boots. On they went, nimbly zipped, and buckled up. He folded the top of the socks neatly over the top of each boot. Now for the gloves, and out came a pair of Lewis unlined racing gloves. They were quite long, and he explained that because they had a long chrome zip, they could go over, or under the sleeve. He told me that over was better, and safer, so that’s how I was going to wear them. Again, I noticed the feeling of the leather being cool at first then pleasantly warm…`Now for the final bits, and bobs’, he said. Off the shelf came something small but also made of black leather.` I had these made especially to my own design,’ and standing behind me he put on a black leather half mask, which was lined with the same shiny leather. It had two leather straps each side that fitted at the back of my head with a series of chrome press-studs, so you could have it loose, or tight. John decided to go tight. Gees…. the mask felt good. This mask was a bit different to the one I’d seen John wearing before, as it covered the nose and was moulded to the shape of my face, extending down to cup the chin. It had no mouth opening, just two black grommet holes at my nostrils. `Is that comfy enough for you’ John asked. I replied, `yes’, and it was then that I realised my voice was so muffled, almost disguised. Then John pulled up the rest of the front zip, and snapped shut the press-stud on the mandarin collar. All this time I was admiring how I looked in the mirror. He then lifted down one of his black `pudding bowl’ helmets with the goggles neatly held in place, ready to pull down. He slightly adjusted the helmet before fastening the chrome buckle under my chin. `Right, let’s see how you look with the goggles down’. He slid them down so they rested just on top of the leather mask. `Perfect’, he said. `You’re already now’. I could see out through the lenses ok, but when I looked in the mirror again, I couldn’t see my eyes at all, just the totally mirrored lenses.
`Now it’s my turn to get ready’ John said. And with that he started pulling out all the kit he’d be wearing. He chose exactly the same as I was wearing. Same suit, boots, gloves etc. he nimbly put his mask on, then his helmet, and pulled down the goggles. It was like looking at a mirror image. We both admired ourselves in the mirror`. `We are going to look great two up on the bike, aren’t we?’…I nodded in reply. I was hard as ever, and when I looked down, I could see John was as well. A lovely bulge, and the shape of his hard cock perfectly outlined in the tight shiny leather. `Right, let’s go’ said John. And with that, he spun around and headed for the door of his bedroom. It was only then that I noticed his suit had a chrome zip in between the cheeks of his arse. He must have guessed what I was looking at, for without turning around I heard him say, `and yes, your suit has got an arse zip too’. Then he did this muffled laugh.
We went out to where the bike was parked. It gleamed in the morning sun. John jumped on the bike, and then beckoned me to get on too. `You can either grab hold of the sissy-bar, or on to me’ John said. I decided to hold on to him. And with that we roared off.
John was a fast, but good rider. Every now and then he would reach back and rub my tightly leathered thigh. Likewise, I would give the sides of his waist a little extra squeeze. When he braked, my body was forced tight against his. I could feel my hard cock up against his leathered arse. John looked magnificent. His broad shoulders tapering in a leathered v down to his slim waist….
We had been riding for about thirty minutes, deeper into the countryside, when John turned off the country lane, onto a semi dirt track, through a small wood. After about a couple of hundred yards, we entered a clearing and John brought the bike to a halt. The braking had jolted me forward on the pillion seat, and my tightly leathered crotch slid forward again into John’s arse. My cock had been hard from when I first got on the bike, and I wondered if he had felt it through his leathers. John beckoned me to hop off the bike, which I did. He then jumped of the bike, and put it on its stand. We were now only a few inches apart facing one another. Anonymous, masked, goggled, helmeted, tight gloves still on I then looked down at John’s crotch. He had a massive bulge, under his chrome zip. He suddenly grabbed hold of me and pulled me right up against him. His arms wrapped around me and he started stroking my leathered arse. I followed suit, and there we were bumping and grinding against one another, our leathers creaking as we did so.
`Do you want it?’ John’s muffled voice asked. I nodded an affirmative yes. With that John spun me around, and kind of frog marched me over to a felled tree trunk that was about 2 foot in height. He then told me to step over it, so I had a booted foot either side. John then pulled me into the sitting position and pushed my back so I was face down resting on the tree. I felt a rush of cool air as John nimbly pulled down my chrome arse zip. He must have opened his suit zip, as the next thing I felt was John’s cock head slapped against my bare arse. He then thrust inside me hard. It was like being speared, back and forth. I could hear him breathing heavily inside his leather mask. Eventually he shot his load inside me, and he was done. He withdrew, and I heard his chrome zip close. `Now, it’s your turn,’ John said. He helped me up on to my feet, and turned me around to face him. No sooner had he done that, when he pulled up my front zip up with his gloved fingers, and gave a tug. He pulled out my erect cock, and balls. He then pulled down the zip a little way, so only my cock and balls showed outside the black, shiny leather. He started stroking my cock, and my cock felt good against the soft leather…then he started to wank me off…. Gees, it felt good… Suddenly I couldn’t hold off any longer, and came, spunk shooting all over the place. Luckily just missing John’s glove. After I’d calmed down a little, I put my tackle inside my suit, and pulled the chrome zip closed.
We chatted for a little while, through our masks. And then we rode back to John’s house. Once inside we took off our helmets, goggles, and masks, but left our gloves on. He got a couple of beers and we sat together on the couch, occasionally stroking each others thighs, and deep throat kissing. We stayed like that for what seemed hours, but then it was time for me to change out of my racing suit, and back into my civvies, as John called them.