Axle was my nickname. Mrs. T dubbed me that one night, after a crazy block party. My dad was a little drunk, and slurred out that I could be a little ...sshole at times. But when he said it, all anyone heard was, little Axle. So Mrs. T took to it, calling me Axle ever since. It seemed to fit.Jimmy and I loved fast cars and fast girls. We both got jobs when we turned sixteen so we could get our first set of wheels. By the time we were eighteen, we both had our own hotrod project car. We’d tinker. She stared intently at her dad’s face. He was sniffing as he leaned his face into the warm hairy edifice between her legs. With his lips first, he worked up the string and then mouthed over the exposed inch wide piece of menstrual cotton. It was firm and sodden.Blossom glanced towards Loke, seeing movement. He had stripped off his clothes and knelt beside his son and young grand daughter, slowly wanking his not inconsiderable dick. She had anticipated seeing and getting a load of it when she. More

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