“I’m booked to start training for the test next week,” she beamed. “I just need to look for a bike to learn on. What would you recommend?”�...I take it money isn’t a big issue?”“No, it isn’t.”“Well you have a wide choice. The only limitation is on the power of the machine. I’d probably suggest something similar to the machines you did the CBT on.”“Those were Honda 125s. Not as much fun as your Norton.”“No. Or rather, different. There’s a lot of choice in that range. There are larger bikes. Yamaha. I’ll go wake up John and we’ll get ready to go.” Malcolm stuffed his wet cock back into his pants and zipped them up, then left as Anita went back into her room.Anita headed directly for the bathroom, ignoring her snoozing husband. After a quick shower, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, disdaining any underwear. She pulled on some socks and her sneakers, then grabbed a sweater and went back into the bedroom. John was still sleeping, curled up on his side. Grabbing the covers,. What a sight I must be with my shoulder length auburn hair, flying about me in the wind. My face reflecting the colors of the sunset. My dress moving in the wind, occasionally lifting the hem above my knees. Glimpses of tanned legs flicker in and out of view. The wind forms the light fabric around my large breasts. He stands there, rock still. A chill crossed my nape, the feeling of being observed suddenly crept through me. I look around, glancing from right to left. My eyes widened in brief. Her vagina was tight, but wet and welcoming. My thrusts shook her body. She opened her mouth and started to breathe harder, her nails digging painfully into my back."Slower," she whispered hoarsely.I tried to control my lust, worried that she was still too weak. Eventually, we fell into a nice rhythm. Our movements became fluent and synchronized. I had the feeling that I was detached from reality and that only the two of us existed. Her moans became louder with every thrust. I was barely able.
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