.. nothing till I woke up in the hospital. My wife was looking down at me and, even though she was crying, I could tell she was pissed."Are you going ...o sell that damn bike now? I knew something like this was going to happen!" she yelled.The fact that it wasn't my fault didn't matter. The fact that I wouldn't have avoided the accident by being in a car didn't matter. The fact that I was in a hospital bed with a phenominal headache didn't matter. She was pissed and the only thing that mattered. I must have been crazy thinking a forty-something-year-old broad like me with saggy tits, stretch marks and a used up twat could compete with the teen sluts offering up their perfect little asses and pert little tits for every pervert with two bucks to whack off to. Me, bitter? What makes you think that? The sound of a door creaking and slamming shut let me know that the one person watching my preview "show" had left. BeaverMan415 was still there, but I didn't count him. He was always there. He. More

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