| I had my eye on her for a few years now. She moved into the house next door to me several years ago. Vicki was a constant source of humor, with her hundreds of questions, about anything that I might be doing. It would usually take me at least half again as much time to change the oil in my Harley, due to the questions. She was beautiful. Lanky, with long legs, dark completion and that raven black hair. She was a self professed wild child, and had a t-shirt to prove it. One fine spring afternoon I was out on the driveway performing some service work on my Harley, when Vicki came out of the house. She, upon seeing me approached and struck up a conversation. She was once again wearing that-"Wild-Child" t-shirt. I continued to wrench the Harley and then asked her, "Just what kind of a Wild-Child are you?" A little grin came over her smooth lips and she very confidently and firmly said "You have no idea just how wild I can be." Well I said, "I guess that depends greatly on ju...
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