He lay her back and his hand slid under her nightdress, it slid up her leg not the legs of any supermodel I grant you but smooth soft, and feminine, s...owly opening to his touch. He slid to the floor, kneeling at the altar of that old sofa, easing his left hand along her inner leg till it got to her crutch, her pubic hair, her wet slot of life, her eyes closed, he hoped in extasy!Her mind reeling, what was she doing, letting his hand, this young boys hand, touch her where only her hubby, doctor. He grabbed his cleats and headed downstairs. Sitting in the driveway he pulled on the cleats and adjusted the velcro straps. Straddling the top tube he clicked in his left shoe in the clipless pedal, pumped once to get rolling and them jammed his other cleat to the pedal. As he cleared the driveway he hit the button on the cyclocomputer to zero his odometer. When he stopped to rest and eat one of the bananas he had stowed in the back pocket of the jersey, he glanced down at the odometer and saw. More

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