I did another search and found another of the women that I thought could be nice, so I sent Carolyn a message. I looked around the screen and saw the ...con that said she was online, so maybe I'd have a quick reply this time.For the rest of the afternoon, I stole time to peek at the site, but there was nothing. Patience, Frank, patience. I tried not to speed driving home, and when I got there, I greeted Beth with a hug and a kiss and told her I wanted to check for her reply.I logged in at home,. She did the work for me so I didn't have to use my hand to jack off. Every Friday night, every Saturday night, and one time on a Sunday afternoon, we managed to meet somewhere to jump each other's bones. I ate her out, she gave me head, I fucked her or she fucked me. But there was no feeling of affection there, no inclinations of romantic attachment, no murmurs of love afterward from me. Animal instinct took over as soon as I felt her tits, or she shoved her hand down my jeans, and we just let. It was no flash, for she'd placed both stockinged feet on the coffee table, knees still up and fallen back to the cushions, head up and eyes closed with her skirt around her mid thighs in the front and completely dropped away in the rear."Oh, that feels so good." she exclaimed, wriggling her stocking- clad toes. "Christ, I wish I could meet someone interesting at those parties, someone with some life in them!"It was the type of comment that needed no reply. I suspect that I couldn't have. But, a rider in good shape can make themselves a better climber by having the right mental framework and a positive mental outlook.Now, on most professional teams, there are riders that fill various roles. There are the ‘Domestiques’ whose job it is to run all the errands the team may need, sort of glorified gophers on bikes. The ‘Mountain Goats’ whose job it is to climb the big hills with the team leaders, giving all they have until the summit when the ‘Golden Boy’ pulls around and takes all.