It was Mom and Uncle Terry. "You still okay with me doing this to you, Wendy?" "I think so. I mean I'm shy about these things and it's awkward ...ith us being related. Still, it's been six long months and if I don't get it soon, I'm gonna' end up in therapy." "Then it sounds like a good screwin' is just the therapy you need. Let's get undressed." As Wendy turned slightly away from Terry she provide a full frontal view to her son hiding in the closet. He stared intently as her. It was painted two colors that would only be done on the 1,000 special edition bikes and each bike was numbered. This bike had 458 out of 1000 stamped onto the side of the gas tank. The radio, with a 5 CD player, would play louder the faster you went to compensate for the wind noise. There was a lot more to the bike, but my brain had shut down half way thorough Jughead's spiel from overload. I was in fucking lust! Through the haze I heard him ask, "Would you like to take it for a spin?" No. More

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