As I watched her, there seemed to be a certain … well … poetry to her movement. Corny, right? The predictable metaphor embarrasses me a little, b...t it is nonetheless true. What I mean is that she moved with a certain amount of grace, an economy of movement. She moved from standing, to kneeling, to turning, like a poem moving gracefully from one line to the next. I looked on, as one would read on, to see where the poem was going. I warned you that it was a little bit corny, but you weren’t. She's too intimidating. All the guys here have been with girls but this is the first real woman they've seen. Perfect proportions, she couldn't be more than a hundred and fifteen pounds. Breasts that are beautiful but not too large, they draw the eyes in but don't offend. He gave himself a quick look in a mirror, he knew all eyes would be on him soon, all the guys are leering at this beautiful stranger and all the women were looking at her with envy. They'll all talk when they see him with. I noticed he continuously looked down at her hand, and after pushing himself into her hand again he watched as her hand seemed to be grabbing at him. My eyes widened with surprise and I now found myself engaged in this interesting relationship, as it was obvious these two people did not know each other. I watched as he once again engaged himself against her hand and remained there for a moment as her fingers began to wander across his growing crotch. He backed away from her slightly and I. The Kurt guy looked too tired to care anymore about the danger."Yeah?! So where are the bikes dickhead?! Where are the people that rode them?! They must have double-backed on you! You asshole!" Shit! I'm warning you Sarge, knock it off with the foul language!" You're warning me?!" Both people were screaming at each other. The thin guy's face was purple with rage. Kurt looked as if he didn't care.It was probably his last chance to apologize, but Kurt said instead, "And they did NOT double back!".