I don't know who had given him this advice, or where he had found it, but Daoud placed each of his hands on my thighs, almost at knee level. I had little doubt about the grip strength of such a position in the event of rapid acceleration, but, given the moderate speed at which I was forced, it might be enough. Very quickly, we were enveloped in a cloud of fesh fesh, the wind coming from behind us and limiting our field of vision and, more particularly for me, towards the front. I put on my sand-colored Afrika Korps-type glasses. The poor woman, in an even lower position than us, had completely covered herself with various veils to protect herself, and as a result could no longer see the road at all. So much the better, I thought, that would reassure her. The track passed by, with its bumps and its difficult-to-negotiate descents. As I did so, I noticed, and I didn't know if it was because of the jolts, that Daoud's hands had moved back slightly. He asked me: - No problem? - No, it's going well. Not fast, but it's going well. We might not be on time! - Inch Allah! A few minutes passed and I felt very clearly in his hands something like a light kneading action. Oh! Almost imperceptible, but obvious, despite the jolts. I wondered about these gestures but couldn't help but remember his insistent glances from last night. - Are you okay? - Yes, yes I replied. Then it really became caresses, his hands running from my knees to almost the top of my thighs. He pressed harder and harder so that I would probably understand his little game. I laughed to myself, saying to myself: could the son take after the father after all? I took a quick glance in the basket of the sidecar. The pile of accumulated sails was unlikely to see much. I took advantage of this, while steering, to open my legs a little more and close them alternately. The invitation was obvious. But, perhaps for fear of scandal, he clearly did not dare to go further, except that he was now going up a little more clearly, all the same to the top of my thigh. Determined to put him at ease and remove any doubt, because he excited me terribly, I took off my glasses, turned towards him, giving him a most evocative smile. He gave them back to me and in the process ran his hand over my crotch. Of course, he discovered my more than obvious erection. He then took the opportunity to simply caress me divinely through the fabric. What a thrill! This guy was an expert! I turned around again to wink at him. He gave it back to me. We understood each other. Bingo!Then came a proper kneading of my very hard cock. A glance to the side to check Madame and I gave him a thumbs up that everything was ok. He continued to knead my cock with one hand trying to get under my balls. Then, with his right hand, he skillfully slid his skillful finger through a button that he undid, lowering with great dexterity the elastic of my briefs, and came directly into contact with my skin. He fumbled for a moment to find my glans which he completely unearthed on my left groin. With skill, he began to play with my foreskin, rotating his finger on the preputial ring, making it penetrate slowly to caress my roll, then come out making small convolutions. There was nothing more to confirm, he liked men! So I slid my left hand back in turn to find without any difficulty his enormous cock, already swollen to the max. While continuing from time to time to glance at the side, I started groping this magnificent tool, the entire length of which my hand alone could not cover. His very loose djellaba pants even allowed me to easily penetrate it and really take back, this time with full skin, this magnificent sex all hot with fervor. This must have delighted him greatly, because he vigorously accelerated the groping of my glans. For my part, my position was not easy, with this left hand on my back. I still sometimes had to remove it to disengage during a gear change. But it was always with delight that I slid it again towards his magnificent mandrel. All this was heating me up, the heat of his cock, its hardness, the contractions of his glans under the pleasure, his expert caresses... I couldn't help but ejaculate in his hand in a moan that I had to contain... He didn't seem surprised. He slowly withdrew his hand, presented it to me full of my sperm so that I could lick it. I complied. Then, I replaced my hand on his cock and tried to masturbate him. He tapped me on the shoulder, took my fingers to place them against his balls, making me understand that I had to feel them, then, with his right hand hidden in his long shaft, he began to masturbate himself. He came quickly, even flooding my fingers passed under his testicles. I realized that he too was holding back a long moan of pleasure as silently as possible. Then he held out his hand again for me to lick, which I did with relish: appreciating that strong, virile, salty, even slightly harsh smell. He ventured into a quick kiss on my neck. It sent shivers down my spine, especially since I was absolutely not used to the brushing of a moustache.Once we were both satisfied, I was able to concentrate solely on my piloting. My average hourly rate was affected by this. Simply, from time to time, he would come and furtively caress my sex or place another kiss on the back of my neck. He had understood that it excited me, from the obvious contraction of my neck. For my part, I was in heaven and wished that this ride would never end. I had behind me a real male, as I adored them at that age, even if I did not denigrate young people like Karim, for example. I felt him stuck to me, I guessed this slightly "brutal" strength, this so pervasive virility, his strong hands when they squeezed me, his strong and tenacious scents... In short, I realized that I still had a feminine side, although I had not yet accepted to be taken by a man. We arrived at our destination. I got off my machine to help Daoud's wife get out and collect all her packages. Her family arrived. She introduced me to the whole family, and especially her parents, a venerable and dignified couple. Of course, there was no question of leaving immediately. We had to drink a lot of mint tea, delicious by the way, and swallow as many cakes as possible that were a little too sweet for my taste. It was only after a while that Daoud and I were able to go back. The return was faster, with Daoud relatively well-behaved this time, apart from a few well-placed and very pleasant caresses that I returned by my hand which once again slipped into the spi ...

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