And that was before we hooked up. But she's 54 years old and 300 pounds, so most of you don't want to hear her story. I don't really want to tell it. ...e're still friends, but... like I said, weird weeds.But I've got another one.Biker chick.Woah, don't go, this isn't one of those scary old broads on the back of a hog.I'm talking hot chick on the back of a hog.What's the problem? you ask. Don't like leather?Actually, no. I don't think a girl in leather is attractive at all. It's thick, it doesn't. Swat the first blow landed right across both of her cheeks."AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE." Gina screamed but she remained in place."One."SWATGina screamed again. The second blow hit her parallel to the first but a little higher up. Her ass stung."Two."SWAT"AAAARRRGGHHH" Gina yelled. The third blow was above the second."Three."SWAT"AAAAIIIEE" Gina found it helped to scream. She felt tears in her eyes."Four."SWAT. The fifth blow fell. Again, Gina screamed."Five."SWAT. Gina hollered more loudly this. The young woman took another gulp of the fiery spirit then poured the remainder over her mother's blonde head before tossing the glass into the fireplace. She rotated her hips, tossed her bra away and began to massage her breasts. She pulled sensuously at her small, pointy, pink nipples to the encouraging cries of the rapists. She pressed her mother's head firmly against her groin. After a few minutes Priscilla came with a long shuddering moan."Remember what I told you, slut," called. “I’m trying to give him new things to be interested in.”“I think you’ve got his attention,” Mike laughed.“Hey you guys, I’m right here,” I said in mock disgust. “Come on, Gabrielle, let’s get over to the outfitter.”“Aren’t you going to show her the bike?” Mike asked.“What bike?” Gabrielle wondered.“Didn’t Kyle tell you about the bike he named in tribute to you?”Gabrielle turned to me with a questioning look. “No ... he didn’t.”“Come on then,” he said as we marched into the shop.I followed.