He squirmed in his seat as if fighting with something below the camera shot. “Dave, can you move your seat away from the camera a little please,” ... asked in a rather breathless voice. As he pushed away his chair from the camera, a very acceptable bulge in his shorts came into view. “Mmmm”, I murmured appreciatively, “I think I would like you to show me what you’ve got in there”Obediently he somehow managed to slide his shorts over his very erect cock. It was thick and long and as he stroked it. This is the real reason we had to come here. I had to pick up my bike.”“Oh my gosh, Skye. I can’t believe you’ve never told me.”“When you asked me to ride with you, I was going to tell you. But, then I felt like surprising you. I thought it would be much better.”Hugging Skye tightly, all I could say was, “Let’s ride, babe. Let’s hit that dusty road.”We mounted our bikes and set off for Lexington, Kentucky. I planned that we would stop at Jimbo’s Tattoo and Pawn, one of my favorite places.We had. That didn't happen because of who Dad was. Nobody was sure where he was, but nobody was ever gonna mess with Mom until they were sure he was dead or in prison for the rest of his and their life. Dad was an Irish tough who ran with Whitey Bulger back in the day up in Boston. The only thing Mom or I knew was that he wasn't in Boston because the FBI made sure everyone from the meter maids to the Chief of Police up there knew what dad looked like. Only Whitey was a bigger target. Dad was one of his. I just wanted to cry. I can't imagine anyone else going through the samehumiliation that I am feeling. There was a mix of emotions of I wasfeeling and I am not sure how to express them. I just stood frozen with myhead looking down. Like I said all I wanted to do was cry, but I couldn'tbring myself to do it.My hand was grabbed breaking my trance and I looked up. It was my motherfrom what I can make through my watery eyes. My mother said while pullingme, "This is your own fault. If you didn't.