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Then one Saturday morning I think it was, the whole street was woken up at an unearthly hour by the roar of a powerful motorcycle. I looked out of my bedroom window to see who had disturbed my slumber and saw the motorcycle parked outside the Forge house. Someone dressed all in leathers was sitting astride the machine, apparently studying the old house. I was fascinated. We didn’t live in the part of town where you expected to see ‘ton-up boys’ as my dad called them or ‘filthy rockers’ as my. There was a smile barely touching the edges of her lips."No matter how much I... liked you," I said carefully. "I would have been okay with one night. You didn't have to lie about sending a friend. We could've had breakfast and you would've been the best moments of my life." Miguel, please..."This time it was a kiss that stopped her words. It was not the memory of our kisses, which hounded me to sleep for months but our lips touching again. She kissed back immediately and her tongue sought more. I remember once going to the cinema with a boy and we got into it in the back row, I had always wanted to be fingered in a public place, so why not where every girl boasted she got it.Trouble was, yes I was horny, but the reason was I was in estrus, and when he fingered me my periods came along with my orgasm, not that the two made one iota of a difference to each other, it was the bloody mess he had on his hand that made me excited, that night I was a heavy bleeder and when we left the cinema. Fortunately I had his number.When I shared all that I knew, and extrapolated into what may have generated the foreign deposits, I could hear The Judge take a deep breath. He mulled over my information and promised to follow up and let me know, but didn't elaborate. I don't think he wanted me involved, so I dropped the news and rang off.The evening dragged as I contemplated life, loneliness, and the boat trip. Abigail was a wayside stop for me. She was memorable, but short lived, and I couldn't.
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