Can I touch it?”“Of course, you can.“Can I ride it?”“Sure, why not? It runs great. After all, it is your bike.”I rolled the Indian out of ...he barn, and Bobby came out right behind me on his Kawasaki dirt bike. I climbed onto the Indian and started it up, and it felt so familiar to me. Like it really was my bike again. I put on my helmet and took off. Bobby was right behind me, and I had the best half hour of fun on a bike that I have had since I was a teenager.We rode to the pond and had a. Unsnapping his jeans she again began to kiss the freshly exposed patch of bare flesh, slowly she began to undo his zipper, one inch at a time. Soon she removed his boots and his jeans, leaving him only in his briefs. She began to kiss him all over; it didn't take a genius to see that he was becoming turned on. The bulge in his briefs was growing with each passing second. As she again made a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach she began to pull down the elastic of his briefs to expose the. He claimed the store had a policy against people backpacks on the premises. He didn’t say anything of the sort to the white woman who walked in with her son, both of them with backpacks and large shopping bags. I realized that this security guard was enforcing a racially prejudiced policy. Racial profiling, that’s what it was. I walked out of the store with my backpack on and my head held high. I wasn’t going to allow these people to disrespect me. Not after my many accomplishments. Not after. She took several days to heal but she still labored during the day and at night Charles would visit us and check on her. He apologized profusely for her fate but she insisted that the fault lay with her. She begged him to bugger her all the more now and said that she could still feel pleasure with a pinky or thumb in her cunny but asked that he be gentle while it healed.Several weeks after that incident, in the Barn after my son had finished buggering Penelope they lay together in a tangled.