Mama told me not to see Ace anymore, that he was trouble and a bad boy. “He’d been spotted at a leather club, of all insidious places, on a Sunday instead of being at church!” Of course, that only made me want to see him even more. He had left college to fix motorcycles for a living and thus always had a big hog between his legs…. and you know, a bike. The day I graduated high school, we were experiencing a humid heat wave and the sky was threatening to storm. Mama wanted me to go to grandma’s for dinner, but I didn’t wanna go cause she kept trying to tell me I was a sinner for liking boys.

I was sulking in my room when I heard the rev of an engine. I looked out of my bedroom window – there was Ace on his motorcycle, buck naked, gorgeous, blond tresses free. My mother came out of the house yellin’ at him with her wooden spoon in hand. I jumped out of the window, shirtless and in torn jeans. He grinned at me as I jogged up the lawn and hopped onto his bike, “Ready to go party?”
 I wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed his cock with my other hand. “Ready.”
I could hear my mom hollerin’ at us even over the roar of his bike as we flew down the street.

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(ed note – for my foreign readers, “hog” is another word for “motorcycle” in American English.)