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Sexual satisfaction, that all-important glue, was losing ground rapidly and her enjoyment became less and less as time went on. The text message she received from John changed their life. John suggested that he dress up for her by the time she got home so that they could enjoy a steamy sex session. Jenny smiled as she replied asking what he was going to wear. She never did get a reply.Her jaw dropped when she walked into the house. John walked around the corner of the lounge and into the corridor to meet her wearing one of her basques, her stockings and her knickers; lacking the high heels but only because her shoes didn’t fit. She looked at him strangely until his hand raised her head and his glossed lips kissed her full on the mouth.She thought about those times he had questioned her about making love with a woman. She thought he meant a real one; one with tits the size of hers and a succulent pussy between her legs. She had told him at the time that all she needed in the bedroom. ‘Why don’t you lock the car up and let me give you a ride? It’s not too far to town,’ he said. ‘You can get five litres of petrol and a lift back from someone at the end of the day.’ In spite of her nervousness, Cindy knew she’d few alternatives. She grabbed her purse and locked the car. Bikes had always seemed so noisy and dirty, as had their riders, but Cindy had to admit that this bike was immaculate. The leather seat looked very soft and comfortable. The engine was loud though, but in a nice rumbling way. He handed her the spare helmet. Cindy fumbled with the chin strap, and he reached to help her fasten it, his fingers brushing her neck. Did he do that intentionally? No, she convinced herself, it was just random contact, but very pleasant! She had to hike up her skirt a good bit in order to mount the bike. He, being quite the gentleman, pretended not to notice. ‘This your first time?’ he asked. ‘Sorry?’ ‘Your first time on a bike?’ Cindy blushed. “Yes, it is.’ ‘Well, no.
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She was no longer in the sparkling white dress she had on a couple hours earlier. She was now wearing a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt with her sneakers. I rubbed my hands up and down her back and tried to console her. Soon her sobs stopped and we sat on my bed. She told me how Keith had planned on a romantic night after the prom and when she told him that she didn't want to have sex, he had gotten mad and taken her home. As she talked, her tears began to flow again. As she talked and cried, I grew angry. I was angry at Keith for treating the most perfect girl in my world like a booty call. I was angry with Christy for not listening to me when I told her he was an ass. Most of all, I was angry at myself. It was the perfect opportunity for me, I could tell her how I felt and that she didn't need Keith, but I didn't. I just held her. Christy spent the night with me that night. She slept in my arms, with her head on my chest. I didn't sleep a wink. I did not want to miss a moment.

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