I was Texting my friend Jen some Naughty stuff about how I wanted to fuck her and her boyfriend and the things I wanted to do to both of them. My cunt...was already soaked from the texts. I had on one of my favorite real short mini skirts. I never wear panties so that was sure no problem. I was touching myself thinking about Jen and her husband when I felt someone sit down next to me in the booth. I looked up and there sat a very nice looking man. I would say he was probably in his late 30's to. Bikers are notoriously territorial, especially of their watering holes. After the come-on/grope session that has become sort of a tradition in these parts, I came up against something truly surprising. It wasn't the beer; I still haven't found an American beer that does not taste like watered down urine. It wasn't the food; it tasted like sawdust. It was a sermon about biking, complete with a congregation and the occasional 'amen'. The local gang leader, with the questionable name of 'Ben. I began feeling pleasure. I had never done anything like this before. But I did know about the prostate and how much pleasure it was supposed to give when stimulated. I was starting to really love this. I felt them gaining more and more speed, and depth with each thrust. The one behind me kept gripping my ass cheeks and pulling me into him, all the while saying things like, "Yeah, take it you bitch, you like my cock in your ass don't you, oh your ass feels nice and tight." While the other had a. “Do I have to?”She giggled, a delightful sound I never tired of and welcomed especially right then.“Oh, go on, then.”“Thank you, Master.”Up in the attic, we changed (or I changed; Sally dressed) into gi for our workout. I was familiar enough by that point to go through a warm-up routine without Sally’s supervision before running through some kata. Our form is eclectic, as my uncle taught Sally, but the kata build muscle memory. After half an hour or so of that, Sally called for free practice..