I look out and see the Harleys, the chrome and the leather, the tattoos and tanned, rippling muscles, the crew-cuts, the cigarettes, the boots and the...skull paraphernalia and the sawed off shotguns and assault rifles and massive pistols strapped on muscled hips.Muscles gets off her bike, and so do the rest of her girlfriends.Even Jack wants to run. He likes Bi girls and has nothing against Lesbians. Hell, he likes them a lot too.But Bull-Dyke is way too soft a word for these women. The name of. Her legs were magnificent. They seemed to go on forever. Her breasts were shapely and supple, showing just enough to entice him and hold his eyes. Her waist was small, and with her wide hips, it only added to her charm. Overall, her face was pretty, with pouting lips that just gave her a hint of the kind of sexy one could only describe as ‘sassy’. He grinned, looking at this beautiful woman before smoothly sliding off his horse and walking towards them. As the workers saw him, they stopped what. Though my God doesn’t go around making people something that they’re not supposed to be, or get worried about where we put our cocks – as long as we treat each other with respect. Love. You know – and passion. It’s a gift, son, who we are. A gift, not a curse. I believe that. The God I believe in gives gifts unconditionally – like you. You’re a gift – most recently a pretty fucking hard gift, to be brutally honest – but a gift nonetheless. Look at you, son. Your eyes – all bright. Strong.. Determinedly, I stopped my hand at the base my cock and let the stirrings of ejaculation subside. That didn't stop my mind wandering back to our first phone call. I had to wait some ten days for that. She explained that at the time of our first encounter, she was in a relationship which was floundering but couldn't bring herself to make contact until she was sure it was over. I promptly said I understood but in my head, I exulted. Over the next few days, we talked for hours - thank goodness for.