Chapter Eight
I was doing dishes in my apartment, just rinsing the sink when I heard the buzz. It was KC on the intercom, “Got jeans on?” he asked.
“Yes, in fact I do.”
“Great. Grab your jacket and come down here.”
My interest piqued and my panties started to get wet. I did as I was told, racing down two flights of stairs seeing KC at the bottom, waiting.
“Have you been on a bike before?”
“Bike, yes, of course,” we were starting for the door, “no, wait!” I stopped. “You mean motorcycle?”
“The only bike I have, hon.”
“Oh, no.” I shook my head and backed away.
He ignored my apprehensions, put his hand firmly at my back and pushed me out the door.
After a quick explanation of what I didn’t want to do while on his bike, I climbed on after him, settling in to the comfort of his fir
