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she asked, adjusting her hat. She pointed to a leather stool in the corner. Is this ride sort of like that? Yes, sort of, Rose grinned. I began to suspect something fishy lay in wait in the tube beneath the saddle. Rose looked at Cheyenne. The girl smiled, perhaps knowing, perhaps simply happy. The stool began moving. Oh, goody! Polly cried. She bounced in time with it, first exaggerating its own movements, then soon finding herself bounced hard gay sex by it, and quite vigorously. Rose slowed the stool to a stop. Keep going! Polly insisted. Oh, don't worry, Polly. Rose replied.