I had a bicycle back when I was younger. His was a big hog. Most guys don't want another dude on the back of their bike, but Mike didn't seem to mind.... He straddled the big engine and told me to get on behind him. I did and he revved up the engine and tore out of the parking lot. Without a sissy bar, I nearly fell off, so I held on to his waist. I heard him chuckle and we rode til we hit a stop sign.“Here's something you can hold on to.”, he said.He took my right hand and pulled it from his. I wanted to milk this out for as long as possible (no pun intended). Up and down my hand went. Stopping every now and then to smear the pre-cum down to the underside of my now throbbing shaft. I glanced down at the picture, the brunette with her firm tits and lightly trimmed pussy. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cum for her or for the camera. I just knew I wanted to cum. I glanced up at the viewfinder to make sure I was still centered in the frame. Damn, even that excited me. I stopped stroking. "Her" pale skin is smooth and silky and is covered with prison made tattoos. "She" looks very much like a real woman, and "she" is very proud of that! "She" makes a lot of money whoring for her black Daddy, and at night, in their cell, Sissy's pink pussy is his alone. Sissy is proud to be owned by a big black Dominican masta like Batuco. Every other white sissy on the tier is envious of Pretty Pinky. “Yes masta sah!” Pinky squeals. She knows how to witch horny black men!In the joint I got. As a result, she had a long cool phase. Eventually, he got the message and backed off. On the way back, they simply exchanged pleasantries.In the few moments before she got out of his car, they spoke as if they were never going to meet again. She surprised herself when a sudden feeling of warmth, nostalgia, and maybe guilt prompted her to kiss him briefly on the cheek. She surprised herself, even more, when she kissed him again, this time on the lips. Somewhat flustered by this momentary surge.