He wheeled the bike into the bathroom and took it apart, oiling here, tightening there. But when he tried to put it back together, he ended up with two or three pieces left over and now the wheels wouldn't turn at all. He almost threw the bike against the wall in disgust, but he caught himself and shoved it back into the closet instead. As he did, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was covered with oil and grime.Eager for anything to do, he decided to shower off the crud. He turned the taps on full blast and stripped, dropping his filthy clothes into the hamper and stepping under the steamy blast.The jets of hot water tingled as they blasted into his body. He took his time, lathering up and rinsing off again and again. It didn't help much with his other problem; his cock was still mostly erect. Maybe, he thought, I should have tried a cold shower -- but even under the hot mist he shivered at the thought. Finally he shut off the taps and the spray petered off to a few. He got me a fresh towel and a fresh bar of soap and everything. After I'd showered, I walked out bare-foot into Mr Lewis's living room, still troweling my hair dry. "The locksmith may be a few hours, Tracey. You're welcome to wait here." He said to me I thanked him kindly, and he smiled, pouring me a glass of ice tea. As I sat on Mr Lewis's couch, watching show strange television show, I couldn't help but notice his frequent glances towards me. I asked him why he was looking at me and he responded with, "Well now Tracey, you must know how strikingly beautiful you are!" To this I blushed. I looked at this man, he looked like my grandpa, watery green eyes, white hair... I couldn't help but think about how strange it was that he saw me as beautiful. "We'll no Mr Lewis, I don't." I said blushing againHe genuinely looked shocked at this. He moved closer to me on the couch, placing one of his wrinkled hands on my knee and looked me directly in the eye. "You are a beautiful woman, Tracey..
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