I bet ten guys watched her saunter out the gate, towards the parking lot, hips swaying.It could have been more or less. I don’t know. I was watching...her, too.When she picked me up she had on the same clothes. I got in and she watched my eyes slide all over her.“I decided to weed the garden, since I was already sweaty,” she said.“It needed it,” I said.“Yes, it did,” she agreed.She put the truck in gear and moved us down the road toward the gate. She stopped and I closed and locked the gate. She. Our sex life had some odd characteristics worth writing about. In all subsequent fuckings, I was always the one doing the "work". She seldom participated in significant ways. Also, she needed fucking at odd hours of the day. Each session always lasted less than half an hour. I had no use for all the knowlege I got from reading books on how to please a woman sexually. At least never had the need to use it on her. She actually hated pussy eating and such. Mom would avoid it if she could. Mostly. More

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