Earning my Stripes

It’s a long one, seriously, really long this time…

Saving up for leathers was proving to be a good incentive for going to work on the days where things weren’t going well. Most of the time, work goes well, but some days it was boring as hell and others I was so stressed I was feeling a bit ill – but my incentive kept me going. A small “challenge” from Boots about who could save up the most helped me along – I can be competitive, and I’m always keen to accept a challenge from the Alpha pup. You never know, I might actually win for once!

Two months of saving up later and an unexpected offer from Boots caused my mind to start working overtime – after showing me that the bike leathers I wanted (a black pre-2010 Dainese Laguna Seca) were on sale at a store in Leicester, and that I could actually afford them, he and zx6rlad had offered to take me to Leicester at the weekend to try them on and actually buy them! So much sooner than I could ever have planned, could my dream finally come true? That was it – from then on, my mind was only on one thing, and it proved to be one hell of a long week…

I was a mixture of “me want!” and worry. Would it fit me? – Their website said they only had sizes 52 and 56 around my size, and that big gap where the 54 should be was playing on my mind. Would I like it? – It might look good on others and in pictures, but it might not look right on me, or I might not feel horny wearing it. What would the store be like? Would the staff ask me questions about a motorbike I don’t have, and I’d give it away somehow that I’d be buying it for pervy reasons? Again and again, these questions went round in my mind, getting louder as each day passed and the weekend drew nearer. My friends gave me advice and helped to calm me down a bit, but the week still seemed never ending.

Friday eventually arrived, and Boots picked me up that evening. We used the journey back to his and zx6rlad’s place to go through my worries, to chat about actually being on a motorbike – and it did the trick. I felt a lot less anxious that night, and for the first time in a couple of days, it was excitement not worry that stopped me getting a proper night’s sleep. I lay there, imagining myself in those leathers; playing in them, going outside in them – something both daunting and strangely exciting. I recalled Boots telling me about his first time in leathers outside and buying his first leathers and began to realise how important this weekend could be. I thought about his suggestion of me being his pillion sometime. I thought about all those times I’ve been in a room with other guys all in leathers and wishing I could do the same.

I found it hard to relax; the whole week had been leading up to the next day. Two months of saving. Years of dreaming, remembering back to when I was 11 or so and seeing my friend’s dad’s leathers hanging up in their garage and wanting to wear them and not knowing why (thankfully I didn’t wear them, just stood there mesmerised). The night seemed never ending.

Saturday: Leathers Day. Thankfully, we left early for Leicester. My mind was still all over the place: the nerves were back, my excitement was battling the nerves for first place in my attention, and I began to shake the closer we got to Leicester. It’s been a while since the anticipation of doing something new and pervy has made me feel that way – maybe I’d missed it a little. In Leicester town centre, those feelings grew even bigger, as I knew the moment was getting ever closer.

We met rubbot on the street the store was on. After a week of “faffing” about whether he wanted to or not, he decided to join us to see if he could get a new set of leathers of his own. God knows what he thought of me when we greeted him, I felt ill and probably looked it! We continued down the street in the rain, and I failed miserably at remaining calm. It wasn’t far to the shop at all, but my mind was working overtime and the seconds seemed like hours. At last we arrived outside the store, I saw the Dainese leathers hanging in the window, reinforcing what I was doing. I took a deep breath, and in we went.

Boots had described the inside of the store to me the day before. He’d been spot on with his description, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the experience of seeing it in real life. The section of the shop we were after had rows of hangers, each several deep with Dainese suits, both one and two-piece. I’d never been inside anywhere like that before and what a sight it is at first! I dread to think what facial expression I was pulling but I was temporarily in a different world. The place smelled fantastic as well – all that new leather just waiting to be bought.

Back in the real world, I remembered I was there for a reason. Boots found me a black Laguna Seca, size 52 for me to try, and even though I’ve worn leathers a couple of times, the sheer weight of what I was about to try on surprised me. Leather suits are heavy! The changing room was in fact a small corner of the store with a curtain pulled around it and a seat. Normally, that would’ve had me feeling self-conscious, but I didn’t particularly care by then, all I could think was “please fit me, please fit me…”

My heart pounded in my chest and my entire body shook as I took my clothes off in order to try on the suit. Boots poked his head around the curtain, and gave me advice and a hand while I began to put the leathers on. Legs in, struggling to get my arms in… Eventually I had the suit on and unfastened, but by then the problem was evident – there was no way it would zip up. Disaster. My dream ruined, I didn’t know whether to be annoyed or upset. I can’t even describe how I felt in that moment; disappointed and disheartened don’t even come close. I took the leathers off, handing them back to Boots as quickly as I could – wanting them out of my sight, hiding the shame of me not being able to fit in them. My body was numb, I wanted to scream, I wanted a big hug, wanted to wake up ready for the real version of Saturday to begin.

I was handed the same suit, but in a size 56 this time. It was far too big, rubbing it in even more that my fears over the missing size 54 on the webpage had been right. 54 is what I needed and a 54 is of course what they didn’t have – “just my luck”, I thought. I was then handed a Dainese Stripes suit in size 54, which according to the guy in the shop was comparable to a Laguna Seca in size 54. It fit well, was comfortable, but I was too disappointed by then to look at it in the mirror behind me (or even notice the mirror at all). The suit was out of my price range, and so I took it off, got changed back into my clothes, and stood there in the shop feeling incredibly down and negative, wanting to get out of the shop as soon as I possibly could. Rubbot tried on the leathers he wanted next, and bought them – but I’m ashamed to say my mind was too busy on other things by then to really notice. Boots tried on some Knox Handroid gloves, which were just sexy enough to lift my mood slightly and bring me out of my disappointment a little bit. I tried to keep my hopes up – a store in Stevenage were also selling the Laguna Seca for the same price, and claimed to have “all sizes”, so I’d just have to be patient and wait a couple more hours.

However, things got worse – we went to a different store so that I could buy an undersuit for when I did eventually get my leathers. I stood trying on helmets in the store, with Boots talking me through them all, showing me how to put them on, telling me about different sizes. I was learning a lot from him but then a “helpful” member of staff came up to us, and another one of my fears came true – he began asking questions about bike riding, none of which I had an answer ready for. Panic began to spread, but Boots thankfully saved me and answered the questions for me! Crisis mostly averted, and after a few more barrages of questions, none of which helped my mood, I got the undersuit I wanted and escaped the store feeling thoroughly annoyed because of the sales assistant. As we headed back to Boots’ and zx6rlad’s place, my mood improved slightly; the positivity of the other guys was rubbing off on me, and excitement began to build again, with less nerves this time since I’d already gotten over some of the stuff I’d stressed over.

It was short lived – Boots made some phone calls, and the store in Stevenage (and none of the other stores he tried) had the old style Laguna Seca in a 54 in black. It was feeling less like a dream and more like a nightmare now. After a lot of consideration, I decided to go to the store in Stevenage, and see if I could get the Laguna Seca in white in a size 54, which the store claimed they had. It’s still a very nice suit, it wasn’t my first choice, but I still would’ve been happy to buy one. I did my best to get over the disappointment of the black suit, tried to get it out of my mind, and realigned my dreams to the white suit.

The store didn’t have quite the same awe-inspiring effect as the one in Leicester had had on me, but the smell still made me want to get closer to the leathers and feel them. Disappointment came quickly this time, no white Laguna Secas in 54, despite what Boots had been told on the phone. “This isn’t happening”, I thought. I felt empty, my last bit of hope gone. I wasn’t going to be getting any leathers that weekend – I’d have to save up for a more expensive suit, meaning another month of waiting at least. I couldn’t have coped with going through how I’d felt that week again.

The woman in the store offered me a discount on a Dainese Stripes suit, in a 54. It took me a few minutes to realise that it was the suit I’d tried on in Leicester but never looked in the mirror while wearing. Her offer was tempting, even if it did take me slightly over budget, and the curiosity of seeing how the suit looked on me was temptation enough to at least go and try it on.

On it went, and I nervously stepped out of the changing room into the store, feeling self-conscious as I walked to the mirror. I felt like everyone was staring at me, when in reality of course they weren’t – the whole point of a store like that is to try on and buy leathers! I really liked how it looked on me, and I began to flip a “buy/don’t buy” coin in my head. Boots got me to try on the Handroid gloves while I was thinking – and my god they’re horny to wear! This, along with some comments Boots had made about how I looked in the leathers made the mental coin land on “buy”… and next thing I know I’m buying the leathers with my own money – money I’ve actually worked for. The most expensive item of gear I’ve bought, and I was shaking as I handed over my debit card and entered my PIN number to pay for them!

It was done, and for the first time all week, time sped up again – in a flash we were out of the store, out into the rain, me clutching a large silver bag containing something I hadn’t exactly planned to get, but at the same time had dreamt about for ages. I spent the next few hours in shock, my mind thinking “what have I done?”. I felt happy, and just hoped that buyer’s remorse wouldn’t hit me and stop me from finally enjoying myself.

Wearing them back at Boots’ and zx6rlad’s place was very surreal. I’d worn Boots’ leathers there before, and so it didn’t sink in that they were actually mine. They still felt as if I was borrowing them. I put them on over my newly acquired undersuit (first time I’d worn the two together), and looked at my reflection in the mirror. It looked great, the logo on the chest, the contrasts between the black and white sections, the shape of it against my body, the race hump… and yes…the smell! That new leather smell of the stores I’d enjoyed so much was now with me, surrounding my body and sealing me in to this amazing feeling suit. I’d worn this type of suit twice before now, but this time I wasn’t in a store, didn’t have any worries or distractions – this time I could look properly, feel it properly.

There’s something about wearing motorbike leathers. Something that changes you – makes you feel more powerful, more confident – invincible. You see your body with this extra skin, the more defined shape, and it just takes over you. As much as I like rubber, it’s a feeling that’s never happened with it – it may be horny but it doesn’t have that “power”. My worries about whether I’d done the right thing had gone, and with Boots lending me a helmet, boots and gloves to wear, I felt on top of the world. I couldn’t help but smile. I was horny, thinking about all the things I’d seen people wearing leathers doing and now I could do the same.
Later on, I was putting my rubber pup hood and collar on in front of a mirror – and that caused a whole new level of transformation in my mind. For a split second this rubber/bikerpup in the mirror was all there was in the world – I couldn’t think of, hear, or see anything else. I snapped back into the real world, feeling better than ever and ready for what was to come.

That feeling could only increase as the weekend continued. Sitting on a motorbike for the first time behind Boots, both of us in leathers and rubber pup hoods (thankfully not moving in his and zx6rlad’s garage), I grabbed hold of him tightly, trying to sit closer behind him, my cock growing harder in my leathers as I imagined being his pillion on a ride outside for real, despite knowing how scared I’d actually feel – I was shaking enough just sitting on the bike behind him in the garage!

It’s like there’s something in the leathers that takes over your brain – the more I wore them, the hornier I felt, and the more pervy things I thought about and wanted to do. TheStig and Boots began setting up the vacrack – something I hadn’t been in since the first time I’d met Boots and zx6rlad almost one year ago, and the memories began to come back. Lying there, the intensity of the vackrack and the “attention” from TheStig and Boots, the leathers fully took over my mind and I was theirs…

My mind was mush, my body felt full of energy and I felt more alive than ever. Shortly after the vacrack, Boots very kindly gave me his very horny Arai helmet (with very sexy mohawk on top) to put on, and told me to go downstairs. Fully expecting to be sitting on his bike in the garage again, I entered the back of the garage to find the garage door open, sunlight streaming in, and Boots’ bike outside. To say it took me by surprise is like saying the sea is a bit wet. In a split second, I knew what was coming next; he didn’t have to say a word. My heart pounded again, and I (very) slowly began to walk across the garage floor to the bike. “He wants me to go OUTSIDE in GEAR! Is he mad!?”

Aside from standing outside for a few minutes at the BBQ at GBuk last year, I’d never been outside in gear. This was different to how GBuk was anyway – I’d be in full view of god knows how many people who could see me from their houses, and all their attention would be on me, posing on this bike in the shining sun – so much for feeling more confident and “invincible”… Breathing deeper, looking all around me as I stepped out into the sun, feeling as if hundreds of pairs of eyes were all suddenly on me, Boots asked me to sit on his bike for a few photos. I began to relax as I noticed there was no-one around, and sat there, trying to take in the enormity of the situation…

And then, I hear it – a noise from a small distance in front of me. A woman comes out of her house and stands there in her garden, looking across at me posing on this bike. She only looked for a second or two, but it was enough. Forgetting I was wearing a helmet with a tinted visor and not wanting to draw even more attention to myself from her, I tried to make a panicked expression that Boots would notice, but of course he couldn’t see it and he happily carried on taking photos, all the while my mind raced with “she’s seen me being a perv!”. A man from the same house joined her in their garden, and as they tried to pretend they weren’t looking (and failed), I began to feel… I dunno, something I can’t find a word for – I was an anonymous biker posing out in the sun, and getting attention from these people. I felt amazing, if a little shaky, and I find myself wanting more. Boots was right – it is addictive.

The rest of the weekend hammered home the message that I’d done the right thing. Not only that, but I’d done something that I feel has genuinely changed me and let me experience feelings I never have. There’s hornyness from some gear – but I felt a lot more than that this past weekend, I felt alive. Unfortunately, all good weekends have to come to an end, and leaving there was the worst I’d felt since leaving their place back in July last year.

I arrived home upset for it to be over, but I not only have the photos and the videos from that weekend to remember it by, every time I wear those leathers and feel them against my skin, or open their bag and get that leather smell, the memories will always come back – I have Boots, rubbot, TheStig and zx6rlad to thank for that. The comedown after a truly great weekend is hell, the real world feels a lot worse than usual, but that feeling soon goes, and the memories from the weekend will keep me smiling and horny.

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