” “Well Julian,” she addressed me with that southern twang, “you’ll never own me because I’m no one’s property but my own.” I smiled... It was a good answer. And the indignation inside that southern voice made my dick stir inside my pants. “Okay. So your name is Brenda, but what do they call you?” “Chocolate Peaches.” “How did you get that name, sweetheart?” She didn’t say a word. Instead, she stood up, turned around and lifted the little bit of skirt she was wearing to reveal her baby smooth. The folks at the Double V were very welcoming. Gus was glad to see the bike and gave it a good long look, but was happy with how I was treating her.Parade plans hadn't changed, but some of the details had firmed up. I had names and numbers to call on Parade day to get directions for lining up. Turns out that this is something of a variable, not just from year to year, but from day to day as the parade drew closer. Some people assumed the Harley folks were collectively disreputable, and tried. More

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