It was only when I reached the back of the showroom to curve past the counter that separated it from Weed Denzel's repair shop that I discovered we ha... an audience. From the moment I'd entered the shop I'd only had eyes for Bessie. They'd probably been standing there the whole time, watching me make a fool of myself slobbering over some silly old bike.Only they knew this was no "silly old bike," because the only reason they'd be here was if they had fixed her. Somehow they had fixed her, or I. That’s probably why I got grumbly again.“We have to stop this,” I said. “If we keep fooling around, we’re going to have an accident.”“Accident,” she said. It was dark, so I couldn’t see her eyes. “It wouldn’t be an accident, Uncle Bob.”“You know what I mean,” I said.“I do,” she replied.“That would be a very bad thing,” I said.“A bad thing,” she repeated. She was rubbing her slippery pussy on my thigh now. “Hey!” she said, suddenly.“What?”“You know how I like to taste you?” Her hand moved to. More

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