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I rode Sarah on the bar of my English racer bicycle, my arms braced on either
side of her. She sat sideways to me, her hair smelling of Prell, my thighs
stropping against her body as I pedaled. She turned to me and kissed me and
closed her eyes. She closed her eyes while I pedaled and steered.
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©1999
Joseph Monninger and Nerve.com
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