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Sheer Delight

“Betty! Wait up!"

Betty turned to see one of her fellow ewes from Mouflon's Prep School for Young Ovines trotting down the school corridor towards her.

“What's up April?"

“A bunch of us are going downtown after school today. Wanna come along?"

April was one of the more social ewes in the school that took sheep and goats fresh from Highschool graduation and coached them in preparation for admission to the best universities, most of which were mixed-species institutions.

“Nah." Betty replied. “I got something to do after school."

April bounced on her tiny hooves. “Oh? Whatcha doing? Something interesting? Can I tag along?"

“No, its … it personal."

“Personal?" April's golden eyes went wide and she put a comradely paw on the sleeve of Betty's uniform blouse. “Are you going to see that ram Brad you're going with? The one from the university?"

It was no secret that Betty was seeing an older ram, one in his junior year at the nearby university. He had recently made the varsity swim team and when he came to pick up Betty at the prep school all the other ewes admired his shorn physique.

“No … not really … I mean … it has to do with him … but …"

“Oooh! Tell me, Betty. You can trust me."

Betty's eyes narrowed. “You promise not to tell anyone?"

April made a zipping motion at her lips with the digits of one paw.

“Okay, you know how he gets sheered and shaved every week during competition season to cut down on the water resistance during the races?"

“Uh-huh."

“Well … Jesus, I can't believe I'm telling you this … he wants me to do the same. He wants to experience the skin-on-skin sensation when we … you know."

April put her fists to her mouth and gasped. “Have you two been … doing it?"

“Sex? Uh … yeah … sure."

It was not entirely true. Betty and Brad had gone pretty far, but it was restricted to a few paw jobs and a little oral, not to completion, she didn't want to get any of that stuff in her mouth … not until they were engaged anyway.

“Anyway," she continued, “I'm going uptown to get groomed after school."

April looked confused. “Uptown? It's a rough there, ain't it? All the best groomers are Downtown."

“Yeah, and that's where my folks and their society friends hang out. Besides, those places are too establishment to give me what I want." What Brad wants, she reminded herself. “A full sheer and shave."

April's face went red where the skin showed on her woolly face. “Betty! They'll throw you out of school when you show up … naked."

Betty knew what she meant. Mouflon's had a strict dress code, with long-sleeved blouses, blue Blazers, long plaid skirts and ties, even for the ewes. Other than ear studs – one per ear max – no other jewelry was allowed and piercings anywhere else on the body were forbidden. Fur and wool rules were just as restrictive; no fancy cuts, no dyes, and most of all … no shaving.

Society as a whole frowned on such practices. Her boyfriend Brad could get away with it because he was a competitive swimmer and it was the only way to compete against otters and other slick-furred species. But for a young ewe from a good family to be seen that way in public … she would be grounded for … forever, probably.

“I've got that covered." Betty assured April. “I'm going to get the groomer to leave the wool on my face, neck, wrists and calves … anywhere that shows outside of the school uniform. I didn't sign up for any of the Phys Ed classes, so I don't need to put on the gym clothes, and I have my own shower in the dorm."

“Oh, yeah. Your dad popped for one of the suites. Lucky ewe."

Betty detected a hint of jealousy in April's voice.

“Remember, you promised not to tell."

“I won't tell a soul, but I wanna see what it looks like when you get back. Okay?"

Betty hesitated a moment before answering. She cuddled with April occasionally when either of them was feeling lonely, but there was nothing sexual about it. Sheep were used to large families and being away from home for the first time was hard on them both.

“Okay, but just you. I'll call you when I get back."

April bounced excitedly as Betty turned to leave, but then she grew serious and called after her, “Hey, Betty! Be careful while you're uptown. It really can get a little rough up there."

* * * * * * * *

Betty took a ride share to the address she had found on the internet. The entrance was in an alley that ran between a tavern and a flop house. The surprisingly well-kept sign on the door read, “Scruffy's Cheeky Cuts, Defiant Dyes, Tawdry Tattoos and Perky Piercings. Sexy Shaves our specialty."

This was the place, and she was right on time for the appointment she had booked online. Still, she hesitated as she approached the door. Is this really what she wanted? But Brad had been insistent. She swallowed her fear and knocked.

“It's open." A gruff voice called from inside.

Betty pulled the door open and stepped in. The parlour's front room was dimly lit, with red lamps, and beaded curtains separated it from the inner rooms. The chairs were the same kind they used in the upscale grooming salons downtown, but older and worn in places. All the usual equipment was there too; clippers, combs, dryers and sinks with indents to rest your neck while your head was being shampooed.

“You're the four o'clock?" the same voice called from behind the bead curtain.

“Uh … yeah."

“Be right with you."

There was a rustling of plastic beads as the groomer stepped though. Betty put the knuckles of one paw to her teeth and gasped. She would have fled if the door had not closed automatically behind her.

The groomer was a wolf. A tall, lanky grey wolf wearing jeans but no shirt. The fur on his head was cut and dyed in the punk style, with one side of his head shaved close to the skin. He had piercings in his ears, his lip, through one eyebrow and in both nipples; just enough to give him an exotic air without being grotesque.

“Yeah, I get that reaction from first time herbivores." The wolf said with a shrug. “I'm Scruffy, I own the place." He sat down on a swivel stool beside one of the salon chairs. “You booked for four hours, but you didn't say what you wanted on the online appointment form."

“I … uh … I was looking to get sheered." Betty gulped and continued hurriedly. “Sheered and shaved … all over ... except where it shows outside this uniform." She spread her arms to display the extent of the coverage.

Scruffy nodded his hairy head with a bored expression on his face as if he had this kind of request all the time.

“Let me guess … your boyfriend asked you to do this."

“Uh, yeah. He's on the university swim team and gets shaved so he thought …" Her voice trailed off as she became aware that she was probably giving too many details.

“College Boys." Scruffy said with a sneer.

“Uh … university … actually."

“Even worse." The wolf said, standing so that he loomed over her. “Tailholes with money. Anyway, if you still want to do this I'll need to see your ID … you got to be eighteen or have parents' permission for special grooming services like mine, and you don't look like you got a note from your folks."

Betty fumbled to show her driver's license. He verified that she was eighteen and passed it back.

“Okay, we'll do this in the back room. It's more private in case one of my regulars pops in to make an appointment."

Betty followed his bushy tail through the bead curtain.

The back room was well lit, and it had a large, padded table in the middle. It looked like a massage table to Betty, with a headrest that had a hole in it for your snout when you were on your stomach.

“Here's what I'm gonna do." The wolf said as he laid out electric shears and accessories for it on a side table. “I'll leave tufts of wool at your wrists, on your tail and below the knees where your legs show under your skirt. So, as long as you avoid bathing suits and gym class only you and your boyfriend should know. As for the rest, I'll clip it down to stubble first, then shave it to the skin. This is your first time doing this, right?"

Betty stood with her hooves together and pulled at her skirt nervously. “Yes."

“Your skin will be tender afterward, sensitive and raw. I'll give you an ointment to put on to protect it until you get used to it. Say, while you're here, how about a little tattoo down there?" He pointed to where her paws were clutching her skirt at the groin. “A little red devil lamb, maybe? Once your fleece grows back no one will know it's there."

“Uh … no … thanks. Just the clip, shave and the … uh … ointment."

Scruffy shrugged. “Okay. You paid online so were cool. I'll start with your back. Get undressed and get on the table."

“Do you have a changeroom?"

“You're in it." Scruffy replied as he bent over his tools.

Betty turned her back to the wolf as she slipped out of the school tunic and began to undo the buttons on her blouse. She was a little nervous at the thought of undressing in front of a carnivore. It felt a bit too intimate, and a bit erotic, but it had to be done if she wanted to please Brad. She steeled herself to the task and when she was wearing nothing but her lace bra and panties she approached the table.

Scruffy glanced at her and rolled his eyes. “If you really want nothing but skin where your clothes cover you then you have to take everything off; I can't sheer or shave through material … no mater how skimpy. Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen, tattooed or pierced before. I'm a professional here, you know? Unless … you've changed your mind?"

Despite her misgivings Betty bit her lip and pulled her bra off over her head. Her large, woolly breasts bounced once before standing out from her chest. Reaching down she pulled off her panties, revealing mothing more than more curly wool.

Scruffy motioned for her to lie on her stomach on the table. She did, sticking her muzzle through the hole and resting her head on the padded ring. Above her she heard the whirr of the electric clippers starting up a moment before she felt the wool being peeled from her back.

She had noticed that the clippers Scruffy was using were the same high-end brand that they used at the salon where she and her mother went. She could feel that they were very sharp by the way the wool lifted easily off her back. maybe he really was a professional, she thought.

He started above her tail, making long sweeping cuts that took the wool down to a stubble. He was deft, never once nicking her skin as he did her arms and legs before clearing the wool from her well-rounded ass. He had to use his digits on her to pull and stretch the skin under her arms and between her butt cheeks, and she shuddered at the first contact. But his touch was firm and precise, and she got used to it the same way she did for the lady that did her scalp massages at her regular grooming salon.

It was warm in the room and sheering was hard work. Even with the best and sharpest clippers it took a bit of muscle to cut through the thick wool cleanly. There was no air conditioning, and she could smell the sweat coming off the wolf. It had a wild but not unpleasant odour. Strange, she thought, half expecting the smell to incite fear in her herbivore brain stem.

Then she realized that she was sweating slightly also. He could not have missed it, not with that long canine nose of his. She wondered how she smelled to him. Would he think it was pleasant, or just gross … or would it arouse primitive hunting instincts in the carnivore?

“Roll over." He said curtly as he stood up to wipe the sweat from his torso. The damp fur was sticking to his body and she could see that while he was lank he was not emancipated like the junkies that frequented this neighbourhood; there was muscle under that fur, rigid, well defined muscle.

She was tense as she lay on her back, fully exposed, or about to be. He could feel it when he lifted her arm to shear the sides of her chest.

“Just relax." He told her. “This is the easy part."

Like most ewes, Betty had never been sheared to the skin before, and had no idea what she looked like under her wool. Now, with her head tilted slightly forward she watched in fascination as the moving clippers revealed long swaths of pink flesh. Two firm globes of flesh emerged from the snowy white landscape, and her flesh tingled when the clippers came right up to the edge of her nipples. They were getting hard and sticking up like they did on a cold day, despite the warmth of the room. She hoped that the wolf did not notice.

He didn't appear to, but his digits moved on her breasts as he separated them so to get the wool between, and that was not helping. It was not the rough fumbling of Brads paws when he made out with her, nor was it the familiar feel of her own when she was teasing herself into a state of excitement before … she blushed, glad that the wool on her face was still there to cover it.

The clippers moved down one leg to her knee, removing what wool he could not reach from the back earlier, then up the other leg. When it reached her thigh Scruffy pulled her legs slightly apart and then started on the wool around her groin.

She tensed up again, but there were no muscles in the triangle of tender flesh between her legs to interfere with the steady movement of the clippers. Between her breasts she could see the mound of her sex emerge from the wool, a puffy pink cleft in her flesh. Scruffy moved the clippers around it skillfully, and the vibration felt good, especially when the base of the clippers was pressed against the top of her cleft, where a hard button of flesh was hidden away.

Scruffy stood up and went to the side table. He blew the stray strands of wool off the blades before laying the clippers down. Then he picked up a folded straight razor, opened it and examined the blade. Reaching down he grabbed a leather strap that was hanging under the table and then he began to strop the blade; moving it rapidly back and forth across the shinny leather, reversing it at each end so that the sharp edge of the blade was being drawn backwards across the hide. When he was done he turned over his paw and used the dry razor on his wrist. Fur lifted off, exposing a centimeter of pale, uncut skin. Betty could see several other similar patches in various stages of regrowth on the underside of his arm.

“Back on your stomach." He ordered as he used a brush on a stubby handle to whip wet soap into a foam. When she was settled in again he used the brush to spread the lather across her back, ass, arms and legs. The he sat down, took the razor in his digits, and began to scrape the stubble of her wool away from the sensitive spot on the small of her back.

Betty had never felt anything like it before. The pull of the blade across her skin was erotic and dangerous, but soothing at the same time. The stubble hardly resisted the blade's progress, but it was if she could feel each individual strand parting. As he moved up to where the skin was thicker and less sensitive the feeling diminished, but it did not go completely away. Rather, it became almost comforting. Betty almost drifted away, wondering why sheep did not get this done routinely.

The feel of the razor on the tender insides of her thighs brought her back fully awake. The path of the razor was leaving a trail of warmth there. It continued as the wolf moved up to shave her ass, and increased when he used his digits to pull them apart so he could reach the stubble between the cheeks. The closer the razer went to her tailhole the more it tingled, and when it delicately touched the puckered ring of flesh in the centre, she felt something liquify inside her.

When he was done her backside, he didn't say anything. He just touched her on the shoulder. She rolled over and settled herself on the padded table. He whipped up a fresh batch of soap and spread the foam everywhere that the stubble remained.

When the brush reached her groin he did not spare her mound, pressing down on it to work the lather in. When he did she felt it open, releasing the fleshy flaps that were hidden inside, along with the scent of the liquid that had formed inside her.

There was no denying it, the exotic feel of the razor on her tender skin was exciting and stimulating. She could smell it herself, and if she was picking up on the odour then he certainly was too.

But if he did notice the scent he wasn't showing it, except maybe for a slight wrinkling along his snout. He stayed focused on the job, shaving her breasts as if he was merely scraping whipped cream off party balloons. She licked her lips, imagining herself covered with creamy foam, the big wolf looming over her, barring his fangs, leaning in to lick it all away …

She had to wrestle the thought out of her head. She tried concentrating on following the path of the razor, watching the perfectly clean, smooth trail it left behind, but that was no good either. It just made her more aware of the warm tingling that followed the dangerous blade and grew as it went along.

She had to bite her lip to stop from trembling as Scruffy cleaned up the stubble around her nipples, imagining what would happen to the pert, pink protrusions if his paw slipped. When he ran the blade un the insides of her thighs she couldn't help shaking, but he put a steady paw on her leg and it stopped. There was no holding back however when he gently pushed her mons to one side so that he could shave around her pussy. The pressure on her clit, still hidden in the folds of swollen flesh, was too much, and she felt the juices it brought forth trickle out and drip down across the skin separating twat from tailhole.

He finished up there, where the flow had washed away the lather but lubricated the skin sufficiently none the less. When the last bit of wool stubble was gone he leaned back and let out a gush of pent-up air. He must have been holding his breath, she realized, not daring to breath in that intoxicating scent while wielding the razor so close to its source.

Scruffy again stood up and wiped the sweat from his torso. There was a lot more than before, more than the warmth of the room could account for. He wiped the blade of the razor clean, folded it slowly and placed it carefully back on the side table. Then he went to the back of the room and opened a cabinet that looked a bit like a refrigerator. From inside he pulled out several towels.

When he was back beside her again Betty could see that half of the towels were damp and smelled sweet. The rest were dry, and fuzzy. They looked like they would feel like clouds on her skin. Both sets gave off a bit of steam, they must have been keeping warm in the cabinet, she guessed.

Scruffy put the damp towels down on the table beside her and the dry one on the stool had been sitting on.

“The wet ones are infused with the ointment for your skin." He told her. “They are hot, but not uncomfortably so. The heat will open your pores and allow the ointment in. After it's worked in good you use the others to dry off with. They you're done."

Betty propped herself up on her elbows. “I don't understand. You want me to use the towels on myself?"

Scruffy was sweating profusely now. “Ye- … yes. Most clients … prefer to do it themselves."

“Hmmpf." She snorted as she lay back, then added in her best rich-bitch shopping voice, “I thought I paid for the full service."

She watched the wolf out of the corner of her eye and saw the grin spreading along his muzzle.

“Of course, Ma'am. Whatever the client wants … the client gets."

Scruffy picked up a damp towel and pressed it to her chest. It was deliciously hot and she felt her skin and muscles relax as he worked the ointment gently but firmly into her breasts. When her chest was done he did each of her arms, then her legs, before asking her to sit up so he could do her back.

It was like a warm wet massage, and when she sat up she leaned against him so that he had to reach around her to clean her back. She rested her chin on his solid shoulder and felt the whiskers of his snout against her ear as he pressed his head against hers briefly.

Everything was done, except for the parts that her panties normally covered. She leaned up on her elbows as Scruffy bent her legs back, spread them and raised them to her chest. Butt and sex exposed. He moved in with the last of the damp towels.

He pressed the towel against her. She could feel his thumb though it as he rubbed the tender skin around her tailhole thoroughly. Then it was on her mound, strong digits guiding it up one side and down the other, while that same thumb trailed along the length of her gaping twat, just the thin, damp material separating his flesh from hers.

And suddenly she realized that the towel was gone, and it really was his digits working her twat, stroking it inside and out as it opened fully, exposing the hard knob of her clit.

“It's important to wash thoroughly around any openings or orifices when using soaps or inks." He said, almost growling, and he moved to the end of the table and between her legs. “You wouldn't want to get a rash or an infection, would you?"

She couldn't answer him because she was biting down to hard on her lip to try to keep from crying out. Had he looked the shop door, She wondered? What if one of his regular clients entered and came back here looking for him? For some reason the thought just excited her more, almost more than she could bear.

Scruffy took her silence as consent and lowered his long snout. She could see everything he was doing as his long, rough tongue came out and slid along her twat, lapping up the juices that were pouring out of her.

He put a paw on each thigh to hold them apart as his tongue slid and glided around her pussy. She reached out and grabbed his ears as he poked that warm appendage inside her and rimed her swollen clit with the tip before doing the same to her tail hole. She had never been touched like that down there, and Brad had never used his tongue on her anywhere except her mouth, so the sensations were new and irresistible. If it went on much longer she thought the she would explode.

She pushed his head back after he sucked her clit with the tips of his lips, rubbing his fangs against it for good measure.

“I want you too." She gasped. “In my mouth."

Scruffy stood up, wiping saliva and pussy juice from his face before dropping his paws to his jeans and undoing them. He dropped them to his knees, exposing a hard triangle of muscle with a long red rocket sticking up from its base. He stepped out of the jeans and stood at the head of the table, his erection bobbing in the air close to her shoulder.

Betty had a little experience in this area, but only once before, and Brad, despite his size and physique, was no match for the wolf in the penis department. It was as long as Brad's, but three times thicker, and there was a thick red ball of flesh growing at its base, just above the wolf's fuzzy ball sack.

She took it in her mouth, not surprised to find that she had been salivating at the thought of it already. It went in easily as her lips sealed around it, and she felt its tapered tip at the back of her throat before she pulled her head back again.

She grabbed the shaft at the base, where it was growing thicker, and moved her head on and off it several times between sessions of licking it and running the tip of her tongue around the head. Meanwhile, Scruffy had put a paw on her twat and was plunging one long digit inside her, feeling for something, finding it in a warm patch of spongy flesh a half-dozen centimeters inside her canal. He began to rub and beat that spot with the tip of his digit while doing the same to her clit with the ball of his thumb. Betty marveled that he could do either without slicing her inside and out with his sharp claws.

She felt his cock shudder in her mouth. She had been caressing his balls, rolling them against each other inside his furry sack and she felt them twitch too. Inside her twat she felt the patch he was rubbing swell up as short, sharp bolts of electricity flashed between it and her clit.

Scruffy evidently sensed it too. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and forced her paw away from it as he with drew his own from inside her. Panting heavily, he stood back for a moment, allowing the air in the room to cool their loins. Then he moved back to the other end of the table and crawled up onto it, kneeling between her raised legs.

“Do I need …?" He began.

“No, I'm on the pill." She had been since turning sixteen. Her mother, no innocent herself at that age, had insisted.

“Have you done this before?"

“No … not this … not yet … but I want you to."

He nodded, understanding. “I'll go slow."

Scruffy shuffled forward on his knees, taking his cock in his paw he guided the tip to her. When he was close he rubbed the tip on her sodden cunt, spreading the natural lubricant she was producing and mixing it with the clear drops of pre-cum that dripped from the tip.

She reached out to him in her eagerness, clawed at his arms and belly. He ignored her, just slipping the tip in for now. The hard, black hoof material on the tips of her digits made red lines on his abdomen but did not break the skin. He grunted away the sudden stinging sensation, and then he inched in closer.

Bit by bit he entered her, slowly, using his hips to pull his throbbing, wet member out a bit each time before going just a bit deeper. Betty gasped as his thick canine member spread her wide, but no matter how much he put in her twat was able to accommodate it, and more. Her hips began to rock as she urged him deeper.

It must have only taken a minute or two at the most but it felt like an hour had passed by the time his distended knot came up against her mound. When it did Scruffy leaned over her, placed his paws on the padded table on either side of her and raised his ass up in the air, lifting her at the same time. She locked her legs around the small of his back as he eased her back down. The next time he reared back, she let his cock slide out until just the tip remained inside. The he came down as she clenched her legs, driving his full length deep inside her.

They continued at a rapid pace, asses and thighs flexing as his cock pistoned in and out of her. He had the perfect angle, sliding his cock along her clit with distended veins bumping across it while the tip raked the swollen patch inside her. His knot bashed against her mound, squeezing her clit between them when at the deepest, his balls slapping against her tailhole with each thrust.

His mouth found hers. She had only ever kissed sheep before, but she found that his long jaw fit her shorter maw just fine. She could taste herself on him as their tongues entwined, and she was sure that he could taste himself on her too. The thought of it excited her even more, and she began to swell inside as she lost control of her muscles.

“I'm … I'm …" she gasped, breaking away from his hot mouth.

“Me … too … I'll …"

She felt him starting to back away, and she clamped her legs down even harder on his back.

“No!" She cried. “I want … I want it all … the … full … service."

He sighed and surrendered. With his next thrust he put his full force behind it in time with the thrust of her hips. With an audible 'pop' and gasps from both of them, his knot went inside her, locking them together.

Betty's insides turned to lava as his pelvis ground against her. She had thought that she had experienced orgasms before, but she realised that those had been just preludes to what she was going through now. Everything inside her had turned to liquid fire as her hips bucked and her clit rubbed against his pelvic bone with mad desire.

Sweet waters shot out from her around the pug of his knot, leaving their musky scent in the air and soaking the leather under them. At the same time she could feel his cock throb as hot spooge forced its way through the grip of her cunt around the base of his shaft and out the shaft, splashing deep inside her. She could not describe how she could tell the difference between his cum and hers, but she could feel his spreading inside her, coating her insides and oozing along his shaft as her twat squeezed him of its own accord.

It was some time, who knew how much, before their bodies stopped twitching and shaking involuntarily. Scruffy lay limp on top of Betty, spent in more ways than one. She tried to push him off, to relieve her of his weight, but found that they were locked together at the groin. She compromised by rolling the two of them over so she could stretch out one leg and drape the other over his hip as they lay on their sides.

“Sorry." He mumbled, his snout buried in the thick wool that remained around her neck. “It's going to take a while to go down. But don't worry," he said with some humour in his voice, “I won't count it against your time."

They lay like that for a while, arms and legs wrapped around each other, occasionally kissing tenderly and nuzzling in-between. When the swelling in his knot had subsided Scruffy rolled off the table, retrieved the last damp towel, and tenderly wiped the remnants of their ecstasy from her bare skin.

“Hey!" he said as he wiped his own groin. “You sure that you don't want a tattoo down there? Special discount today for loyal customers."

She smiled back. “Not this time."

He snorted, but he smiled at her choice of words.

* * * * * * * *

A year had passed since Betty had first visited Scruffy' s parlour. She was almost finished her Freshman year at the university and she had not seen Brad for almost twelve months. She had broken it off when he proved to be just as inept a lover when she was shaved as when she was woolly.

She had also moved out of her home and into a student residence near the campus, one with no rules about grooming, how you dressed or who you saw outside of class. It was convenient because even though she could have easily gotten into any of the sororities at the university they all would have balked at her current look. Now the wool on her head was cut, shaved and dyed in the punk style, and shaved everywhere else. She had enough visible tattoos and piercings to shock her relatives, without being grotesque, and clothing that revealed just how much skin was shaved bare without violating the local morality laws.

“You are so freaky." Cathy, a goat that had three boyfriends on the go and who wore a radio-controlled vibrator to class, told her as they were leaving the lecture hall one day. “You've got like … what? Ten tattoos now?"

“That's just the ones you can see." Betty said with a sly smile.

“Gurl … no! you've got to show me the rest!"

“Not now … unless you want to get me arrested for indecent exposure. Besides, my ride is here."

Betty waved at a tall, lean wolf that was sitting astride a low black motorcycle with a small seat behind where the rider sat. He was wearing jeans, leather boots and nothing else. Even from this distance Cathy could see the ridges on his ab muscles.

“Gotta go." Betty said, then she ran across the parking lot and hopped up on the bike behind the wolf. He smiled and said something to the ewe that Cathey couldn't hear. Betty laughed in response and pulled the wolf's head to her for a long, deep kiss before wrapping her bare legs around him and letting him start the bike.

“Yep." Cathy said with a touch of jealousy as they rode out of sight. “Freaky."