Shooting down the highway on the back of Chet"..s new
motorcycle gave me a real rush. I shivered as the wind
invaded the legs of my shorts and lapped at the insides of my
thighs. The continuous sensual breezy, along with the power
of the big machine vibrating between my legs, had given me
one hell of a hardon.
At thirty-six Chet was a real man"..s man. He was six
foot six and weighted two hundred and thirty pounds - all
muscle. His hair was jet-black - long, and was usually worn
in a ponytail. His features were distinctly masculine,
hard, yet handsome....
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