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Just down the road from you!" Perhaps I could have a ride sometime? Pillion, that is – I don't think I want to take charge of a bike nowadays." Sure!" I dug in my wallet and found a card, which I handed to her. "Give me a call." I will! I'll let you go now. Go safely!"I did. The last fifty miles took about an hour and a half, with Oscar thumping happily away. I rolled him into the garage, and carried my pack indoors.I didn't give Nita a second thought. I ran the checks on Oscar – nothing to do – washed him and polished his chrome.It was one of those rare – for Britain – summers, with sustained sunny days and high – for Britain – temperatures. Reservoirs shrank in size and hose-pipe bans were enforced. Riding Oscar was one way of finding a cool breeze and I joined other bikers in riding around in helmet, t-shirt and shorts, boots and gloves. Then, one Thursday evening, I got a call."Hi ... it's Nita Tomlinson. You gave me a card – we met at Grantham Moto." Hey, Nita. Good to hear from. Oh Meg, do me, make me cum hard, its what Ive wanted for so long. I love you Meg. pleaded Julie her teary eyes looking directly into Megs. You know I love you too. whispered Meg as her two middle fingers parted her friends puffy young pussy lips and her middle finger moved up and down the slick slit circling her cunt opening then brushing over the glistening little clit. Julie gave out a gasp. She was licking her lips, her chest was raising and falling as her breath became heavier. Meg moved her hand from Julies tummy to her breasts lifting the tank top off them and squeezing the right one letting her thumb and forefinger tease the nipple. She pinched the nipple hard and in the same instant curled her middle finger into Julies cunt sinking it as deeply as she could. Julie groaned lifting her ass off the bed. As Meg began to fuck her slowly persistently then leaned over to lap at the stiff exposed clit. Julie grabbed at the bed sheets and moaned Megs name. Kate watched in shock and.
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“Okay,” I said. “I’ll go over after lunch.” I couldn’t exactly refuse to help her, that would be rude and then mom would know that something was up. I wasn’t exactly subtle with my admiration of Mrs Malcolm, especially when she went power-walking past our house in tight leggings and a singlet. I liked to watch her from the kitchen window. One day, dad joined me, but that was the only time. He got an earful from mom after that. Mom liked Mrs Malcolm, but disagreed with her choice of attire, and told dad and I about this often. So, after lunch, I headed next door to see what Mrs Malcolm needed help with, getting myself into the right head-space, trying to force her tits and hot body out of my mind, trying not to remember how it felt when she hugged me. Anytime I felt as if I was losing focus and thinking of Mrs Malcolm in a sexual way, then I’d just think about physics or chemistry, the least sexy things in the world. It was going to be tough, but I was confident that I could.

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