For me, was it like getting back on a horse? No. It was just an unplanned family vacation, one we deserved. I was determined to enjoy myself.We lucked...into a red Camaro convertible from Mr. Hertz. Just a half-hour drive up to Sturgis. Bikers here, there, and everywhere. Riding in huge, noisy packs. Solos. Sidecars, three-wheelers, every gaudy paint job you could imagine.So many beards. Leather? A gigantic S & M convention.But it didn’t feel menacing, not in the least. We didn’t put the top up. “Your wait is over,” I said as I took his other hand and placed it on my breast. He got up from the chair and I put my arms around him. Quickly, our lips met and my body quivered from his touch. As we kissed, I quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled off his undershirt. He put me down on the bed and unzipped his pants revealing his hard cock. I couldn’t understand how anyone would deny him pleasure. His body was so young, firm, and ready for sex. He started stroking his cock, but I stopped him. And so we made love, Amy’s breath hot on my shoulder, her hands on my hips, her hips to my own. It was as if my cock were here own, and she were the one taking Bakkala, until my cock began to speak it’s own demands, and I began to outrace her. “Help me, Darling,” whispered Bakkala. “He feels so delicious, yet I need you to help me across the bridge.” So Amy left me to thrust on my own and knelt between her lover’s outstretched thighs. She lowered her head, and extended her tongue, to kiss her. I started getting the feeling she was ghosting again. I got my phone out and started to text her when the door opened just a crack. A meek voice invited me in.Zoey was taller than I expected. She was close to five-feet-ten-inches in heels. Very slender with feminine features and long black hair parted in the center and chiseled cheekbones like a model. She had on red lips stick, black heels, a silky white blouse, and white skirt with black polka dots that hugged her tight ass. She had on.