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Then, I saw them all. “Don’t think about them, little love. How could they help but want to see the most beautiful woman in the world? They would all love to get your attention, of course. But remember, you’re with me”, he quietly said under his breath. Without giving them any noticeable attention, he positioned me over his rock hard 10 inches now standing at relentless attention. His smile and the strength of his arms and hands made me feel completely safe and in the moment- who cares if there are 15 or more truckers and other drivers out there looking at us right now? I smiled into his eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning into the biggest most passionate kiss I have ever given as I lowered myself in a smooth motion onto his full length. We held that embrace and kiss for quite awhile, but our hips and legs seemed to be doing their own thing, as the next thing I knew I was back in the position that started this situation: bent over the seat with my head in the backseat. You need to understand that one of the reasons I feel so kin to Cindy is that we sort of share that whole 'crappy mom' story. Cindy wasn't too graphic. I knew the whole story. She and I had talked a lot about it, trying to understand why we were the way we were. Susan hadn't heard the whole story, or even as much as Cindy was telling. Both Susan and her mom were almost astounded while Cindy was talking about her life before Dan."But then I got Dan." Cindy said, with that smile.Mizz Kathy hugged her, almost crying. "I shoulda took Tina and Susan's word for it, baby," she said. Then Mizz Kathy started asking questions about Cindy's high school experience and there was room for me and Susan to jump into the conversation. We, Susan and I, already heard a lot of this, but Cindy was retelling it for Mizz Kathy. We had a lot of fun. I could tell Mizz Kathy was enjoying talking to us. I wonder what my life would've been like with a mom like Mizz Kathy, one that saw her daughter as somebody.
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For this gig they were Duke and Darin. No questions. No answers. They were a lot easier with it than he was. They ‘duded up’ too. One did a pirate thing, the other, Yakusa. They all bought bikes, old bikes. Casey’s was an antique Indian, with the wide saddle. His buddies had high rise Harleys. No guns, only some interesting sharp things. You could hear the party from down the block, the minute the hogs cut out. It hammered against the glass and steel of the high rises around. Somebody must have paid off the locals. When the door to the private elevator opened into the penthouse lobby the sound hit like a sledgehammer. The little lobby, all mahogany and gilt, was filled with bodies. A blonde with very long hair, red eyes and a runny nose had one foot up on the ashtray next to the elevator. A guy with a ring in his nose was giving it to her right there. She made howling cat sounds between tokes on her reefer and sips of her martini as he did it. Casey and his Krew marched in the door.

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