Thursday, December 30, 2004

Fantasy Friday

early again...
and who doesn't love an early woody?
or morning wood for that matter.
or wood of any kind--am i right, girls?

I did not write this one, so it doesn't get a number.
This is a guest post, of sorts...
It is something that was written about me, for me...
a while ago.
by a very dear friend.

Black Leather, White Lace

The engine thumps lazily below me, as the bike rolls onto the dark pavement. The bright, white light of the garage is replaced by the dull, bathing fog of the sodium street lamps. The heavily distorted notes of Thorogood's "Born to be Bad" slip into my thoughts, and I smile...

Easy Rider?

More like Cheesy Bastard.

The peaceful slumber of the suburban night is disturbed momentarily as it rolls beneath my wheels. Five minutes of patience brings me to the freeway. And now, at last, the throttle opens and the thunder of the V-twin engine tears a hole in the thick velvet curtain of the night. The inky blackness of the unlit freeway rushes up and engulfs me...

Two hours and 170 miles pass by, taken only by thoughts of you. The roar of the charging motorcycle becomes once again, a steady heart-beat, as the speed of the freeway is left behind like a shed skin.

As I turn into your street, the kill switch extinguishes my faithful steed, and I roll silently along the kerb. The peace remains unbroken as the brakes bring me to a halt outside your house.

I sit for a moment, as the cooling engine 'pinks' quietly. A deep breath... I close my eyes...

When I open them, I am at the foot of your bed. The solitary shape that lays beneath covers confirms that you are alone.

I lift the covers gently to reveal your sleeping face; The dark curls of your hair lay like ebony splinters on the white pillow. The warmth of your sleeping body reaches out and caresses my cool skin. I pull the bed covers right back, and you now lay before me...

The night dress you are wearing has ridden up during your sleep, revealing the white lace panties that briefly cover your pussy. My pulse thumps heavily through my body as I sit on the bed. I lean over to kiss you, and you stir. Your eyes open slightly, and for the barest instant, a voice screams in my head.

This was a mistake.

But then, you smile. And I know it wasn't.

You sit up slightly, and the smile is broken as your mouth opens to meet mine.

I lift the night dress over your head, but twist the material quickly, before you have time to take your hands out. I now have your hands tied behind your head, and I drop you back onto the bed.

Only the lace protects your dignity now, and your breasts stand ready for my attention. I straddle your body, caring not that my motorcycle boots deposit road dirt in streaks across the white bed linen.

As my hand moves to your breast, the cold, black leather of my jacket brushes your nipple, and my fingers reach it to find the skin hard and erect.

I kiss you again, deeper than before. And we connect. The heat of your body seems to rush into me, causing my cock to press stiffly against the material of my jeans.

My hand slides down across your navel, the rough tips of my fingers teasing the flawless skin. I feel the edge of the material as my fingers slip under it. The lace against the back of my hand contrasts the silky feel of your pussy hair against my palm. My fingers find the soft, moist skin of your labia...

The air hisses between your teeth as you breathe in deeply, your back arches as my fingers slip deeply into you. I kiss your neck, but as your body sways rhythmically in time with the movement of my fingers, the kisses become nibbles, become bites.

I kiss your breasts and my mouth finds a nipple, which I suck and tease with my tongue. You gasp and your body stiffens. I feel your pussy squeeze down on my fingers. And you become limp again.

I let go of the night dress, so that your hands are free. I slip the now dampened lace panties from your hips and discard them. You reach for my jeans. I say nothing, but smile as I move your hand away. Not yet...

You lay expectantly on the bed, one hand on your navel, the other above your head. Your legs are parted so that I can see the glistening of your lips. I raise them slightly and move them further apart. You gasp again as my lips come down to kiss your pussy.

Taste and smell of you is intoxicating. I have concentrate to stop myself from lapping eagerly at you. But I manage it, and continue to kiss and lick slowly at the wet flesh, all the time my nose nuzzles your clit.

Again, you move in time to my actions. Again, your arched back tells me it's working...

Now it's your turn. As I move up your body, you wrap your legs around me and I am unable to stop you from rolling me over.

You sit astride me, one hand pressing against my chest. It's a token gesture, but I'm game. The other hand finds the buckle on my heavy leather belt, and you deftly relieve me of it. The jeans are next, and I aid you a little by moving them down my legs.

My cock is standing-to, and you lift yourself over me. It seems like forever that you float above me, and then you drop.

I slide deep into you, and a heat drowns me from inside. We are FUCKING. This isn't making love, this is raw, uncivilised, PURE.

When I come, I imagine this must be how it feels to be a volcano. It starts deep down, a distant stirring, slowly becoming stronger. The feeling grows, but stays deep inside until, for a moment everything goes black.

Then I explode into you, and I feel you come too. We both drop exhausted on to the bed.

You wake with a start.

You sit up, bleary eyed.

You are alone.

Could it have been a dream?

Your head drops back to the pillow. As you doze off you think you hear the roll of distant thunder...


and if I don't see you again before new year's--
have a happy and safe one!
(see ya next year-har har har)

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