I giggled again like a teenager and wanted to slap myself. I felt myself blush. I hadn't blushed in years. "Well . . . um . . . I think we are both a ...ittle nervous right now. But . . um . . . I think we should try to work through our nervousness, don't you?" I said through a silly grinning, almost idiotic smile. I had to fight the urge to giggle again. "Well . . ," he began, almost whining. I'd heard that tone of voice from my own son often enough to know what was coming and even in my own. I figured he was just happy with the weekly blow jobs, but a few days later he texted me: Come to my garage. I need help with an oil change.I laughed at his sly wording in case my wife read this, but I knew instantly what he was implying.I replied I'd be there in five.I told my wife I was going to help Mike with his car and she didn't blink an eye... why would she?I went to his garage and walked in.He actually was working on his car. I briefly wondered if I'd read his message wrong and he. More

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