Turay.”“Is it Pen, Sword, Shield, Cart, or Hearth today, Sada?” he asked with a grin. One never knew how to address her until she answered that ...uestion.“Cart.”“I should have guessed, Cart Sada. You’re sitting in a Jeep,” he said gesturing to her vehicle.“Would you like a ride to your home?”“Yes. That would be wonderful and much appreciated.”The limousine driver dropped his bag into the back of the Jeep. After thanking the driver, Mr. Turay then sat down in the front passenger seat next to. "Please, sir, I'm sorry. I couldn't hold it back any more." "You dirty little girl, you're just a little slut aren't you?" She whimpered and her eyes closed as his fingers played over her ass. "Yes, sir." "Tell me what you are." "I'm your little slut, sir." He smiled and looked down at her. "Good girl." He brought his hand down in a blistering smack against her ass and she jumped, crying out. He smoothed his hand over the red print already blooming on her soft skin until she mewled in. " Ed! You bastard!" You can frig in a few hours. Or, if you're a very good girl, I'll take you all the way there tomorrow. But you have to wait." Ed!" By now Erica was almost crying, a big change for a blousy, arrogant woman used to getting her way. I could almost like her like this. She has enough breasts for Bill, and enough brains for me. She simply needed an attitude adjustment to make things worthwhile."Now!" And in the end she did it. She leaned forward and pulled me into her mouth and. Mine was a Schwinn with 26 inch wheels, and it was tough and would take a beating. Beth’s was a dull red Roadmaster Supreme that had to be 30 years old, with a leather seat, and it was a boy’s bike, meaning it had a bar on it that we boy’s called the “ball buster bar”. The one on the Roadmaster had sheet metal formed around it that was hollow and it looked a little like a gas tank on a motorcycle or something. Back then I had no idea where that bike came from, or why her mother got her a boy’s.