© Copyright 1995 by 45 Mike
She lounged among friends, speaking of minor things. I felt
welcome there, music flowed from the speakers as the sunshine poured from
the sky. The day wound on and too soon it was time to leave. I admired
her supple body and thought of the tattoo she mentioned and had failed
to reveal.
I rose to leave and she rose as well and with a smile and a
demure but revealing gesture, her leg was bared to my gaze. The colors
seemed almost iridescent, a comic yet strangely sensual figure painted
into her thigh. The sight of her limb so brazenly displayed gave rise,
(grin), to my imagination. I found myself lost in the pleasure of her
company. Though I had risen to exit, I stood fast, my gaze travelling
from the place on the ground where her feet supported her pose, up,
lingering on the nakedness of her figure exposed, up where her clothing
forced my mind to only imagine her taut and trembling skin, hiding from
me. She smiled and I was shocked back to reality.
In public, she would reveal no more, nor would she promise more,
nor a hint of a suggestion. I would not beg or grovel. The time was
passing and the need to leave was a reality that I regretted.
Days passed and my mind wandered back to those moments when her
leg poised before me, fired my body and ignited a passion I had not felt
for so long.
A voice penetrated my concentration, at a time when I was
thinking of practical things. Turning, I saw her. I felt my body heat
and my flesh became as a sensual organ waiting, eager to be used for
pleasure. My motorcycle waiting for my ride, practically begging to
taste the flesh of this woman also. Eager he was, as I.
I inquired if she would like to try the seat, and ride the road.
Her reply was simple and direct, “yes.” The seat accepted her as she
mounted, her feet finding the pegs as if the ride were a resting place
she had grown accustomed to.
As the clutch released and the throttle rumbled, I felt a
sensation I have never felt before. Her pair of legs gripping my torso,
as if she were more riding me than the bike. Her thighs were as personal
as lovers carressing in the heat of lust, and her body where legs become
more than legs pressed against my back was hot and open. The ride was
not all that long, nor fast. But I found time to reach down and fondle
her leg, resting my hand on her knee and carressing her skin through the
blue jeans she wore.
After we stopped for a beer, her mounting became a mysterious
and more sensual affair. She dispensed with the pegs completely. She
wrapped her legs around my body as a lover in the throes of an orgasmic
experience. I was hard pressed to concentrate on the road, her constant
contact, full against me was more intensely sensual than much loving I
have encountered.
The ride was much too short, and the destination was all wrong.
We ended that day as we began, a chance meeting come and gone.
I would have preffered to take her to a sweet meadow to lie in the grass
and with a chorus of nature to cheer us, I would explore her and taste
her. I would have bared her legs and belly and breasts to the sky.
I love the taste of rabbit!! On leg.
(sorry, couldn’t resist)
L
45