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From: Paddy22@aol.com
Subject: "In your eyes" By Paddy - REVISED
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The usual disclaimers apply. Hell, what a ridiculous thing to say.
Like it's a magic talisman or something that will ward off evil
spirits and the porn squad.
Anyway, don't read this if you ought not to be doing. That last
sentence was designed to make Celeste wonder if the grammer quite
correct had been. So that last one also was. Oh stoppit, Paddy!
Here you go, folks. A little more romance than usual, but it seemed
kinda appropriate at the time.
Final note: Please remember Celeste's BJP (Blow-Job-Principle). I
always do - just ask Bronwen SM - I gave her the blow of her life as
thanks for her last story!
Thank You. You can let 'em in now, Eli.
-------------------------------------------
"In your eyes" by Paddy - REVISED
-------------------------------------------
You look into my eyes as you finish the last of your wine. It's an
'84Chablis, a good one, and the perfect accompaniment to our meal. I
can feel your love radiating from those big green eyes, so warm, so
bright they always seem to be dancing to some exotic inner rhythm that
only you can hear.
I know your face so well, your elegance touches my heart. You don't
think you're beautiful, but I do. Always have, always will. You're
mine. You were made for me, and I for you.
For the hundredth time during the meal, I look at you. You smile at me
as I drink in your beauty. Your hair, a glorious, flaming mass of
silk, cascades down in a torrent of curls to your bare shoulders. Your
strapless black dress is in stark contrast to your pale skin, which
looks almost like alabaster in the soft light from the candle at the
centre of our table. Adjusting my gaze downwards, I look at the
beginning of your cleavage, which starts well above the top of your
dress. The gentle upper slopes of your breasts can only hint at the
treasures below, but I know what they are, and it is enough. I feel
myself start to stiffen beneath my suit at the mere thought of those
orbs of delight and what they do to me, and to you when I suckle them.
My inattentiveness has not gone unnoticed. "Hey! earth to Paddy!,
earth to Paddy! Come in?" you playfully tease me, but I know you know
where I was looking, and the thought excites me just a little more.
"Shall we have dessert?" you ask. There's only one dessert on my mind,
and I tell you so, leaning over to whisper it softly into your ear.
You lean over to meet me, and my eyes are once more irresistably drawn
to the further show of flesh revealed by the motion.
I pay the bill, and we walk out of the restuarant arm in arm. Walking
briskly to your trusty steed, I cannot help but feel the swell of one
heavy breast firmly nudging against my arm, and it causes me to
quicken the pace slightly, anxious for dessert, hungry for you.
We mount Honda's finest, your CBR600, I admire the display of thigh as
you swing your long legs effortlessly over the seat, and seat myself
behind you, my desire very evident thanks to the nudging in your lower
back. I cross my hands over your warm abdomen, loving the feel of you
beneath the silk. Hardly de rigeur for well-dressed bikers, but it
does me the power of good watching your long shapely thighs as we ride
the few short moments back to your place in the pale moonlight.
We park the bike in the garage, and, opening the door for you, you
walk past me, helped on your way by my palm on your soft, yielding
backside. Again I marvel at you as you make your way up the stairs.
Your legs, clad in black silk, swish together as you rise. I check
your bottom for signs of underwear, and see none. My prick again
begins to stand to attention at the thought of the treasures
temporarily hidden under the black material.
As we reach the top of the stairs and enter the living room, I pull
you towards me, holding you tightly, pressing our loins together. You
can feel my arousal now, fuelled by the thought that only the dress is
keeping our sexes apart. Kissing you slowly and tenderly, I move from
your mouth down your face and neck, planting tiny kisses all the way
down. It is almost as if my lips need contact with your skin simply to
continue to function. Moving downwards, I begin kissing the sides of
your breasts, your cleavage, and then your nipples through the smooth
fabric. I clasp the sides of them in my hands, and push them further
together, still wetting them, until your nipples appear to be
straining to break through.
Standing back from you, I quickly divest myself of my clothes, all of
them, and stand nude before you, my arousal evident by the retreat of
my foreskin, now complete. I want you to be able to see what you are
doing to me. The single drop of clear fluid at the tip of my penis is
a testament to your sensuality.
You watch me silently, knowing exactly what I'm going to do next. As
expected, I move back towards you, reaching around you to the zip at
the back of your dress. Clasping you towards me, I unzip the dress
all the way down to the small of your back, where I am able to confirm
that you are wearing no panties. I swirl my hands around, over and
between your buttocks, now teasing my fingers down your other
cleavage, revelling in the size and firmness of your behind. I gently
repel you far enough to remove the dress. You give a little shake,
and the garment falls to the floor, making a small black puddle
around your feet. You now stand before me, naked except for your sheer
black stockings and suspender belt.
With an audible gasp, I notice that you have trimmed your pubic hair,
the dark curls now shaped to accentuate the contours of your beautiful
sex. Your outer lips are clearly visible, and the musky smell of your
arousal greets my nostrils as I gently ease you back until you are
sitting on the edge of the comfy chair.
Sensing what I am about to do, you stop me with one hand in the centre
of my chest. "Not here, on the bike. Do me on my bike" you whisper to
me. Without a word, I reach underneath you, and with one swift
movement pull you towards me and off the chair. Holding you in my
arms, my stiff aching prick is under your bottom, and I so desperately
want to nudge its yearning head between your silky lips, but that
would be against the rules. It's your turn tonight.
Once downstairs, we enter the garage again. The aroma of oil, petrol
and leather as powerful an aphrodisiac as you could imagine. I seat
you with infinite care on the huge mound of the black fuel tank, and
instinctively, you part your legs to allow me access. Your nude sex
winks at me invitingly, glistening like a pearl in a shell. Kneeling
before you, the back wheel against my chest, I begin tracing a pattern
of kisses up your long legs, alternating between left and right,
leaving tiny patterns on the silk. Slowly, slowly, rising. The
anticipation is clearly heightening your pleasure. As I approach my
target, I see more moisture beginning to form there and slowly trickle
down your nakedness. I can resist no longer, and hungrily lap at the
droplet, greedily taking it from the bike, wanting you all to myself..
Your hips move towards me as I begin to pleasure you, kissing all
around your fleshy mound, relishing the feel of your soft hairs
against my nose. Easing the lips gently apart, I see my ultimate
objective, and proceed to worship your clitoris, that tiny bud that is
the centre of your sexuality. I run my tongue around it, over it,
teasing it, then gently sucking it between my lips. Your breathing has
began to quicken, and you begin to moan, quietly at first, then
gradually becoming louder. Your hands move to your breasts, tweaking
your nipples, pinching them harder than I would dare, but you seem
oblivious to the pain, becoming lost in the world that is your
approaching climax. Your moans are fast becoming exhortations to me to
fuck you, fuck you, and getting louder all the time.
Still frantically licking your clit, I insert one, then two, then
three fingers into your accomodating hole. You're pinching your
nipples harder now, hard enough even to draw blood, your back bent
over the bike, your skin and the gleaming metal and leather apparently
becoming one, but still you feel no pain as you begin to buck
frantically against my face. Your moans are definitely screams now -
the wanton howl of a woman lost in the mists of sex with her love.
Higher and higher goes the pitch, and the volume is definitely along
for the ride. Just as I think my eardrums will burst, you reach the
crest of your climax with one last ear-rending cry, and slowly begin
your descent. At the same time, incredibly, my orgasm is upon me
without warning. So focused was I on pleasuring you that I was
practically unaware of myself, and I find myself frantically emptying
my full load onto the back wheel of the bike, watching just for a
moment as one droplet falls from the tyre to the concrete floor. I
look at the bike's tank, and see your arousal painted there, the
moisture you secreted in your pleasure making swirly patterns against
the black paint.
I didn't penetrate, but that doesn't matter for now.
This one was for you.
I look at you, now recumbent on the bike, magnificent in your
near-nakedness. Your heavy, firm breasts point to the ceiling, the
spots of blood around the still erect nipples prove the extent of your
passion. Your eyes are closed, your head reclined between the
handlebars, resting on the console. Lying there you are every
motorbiker's fantasy woman, wantonly exposing her sex to me, lost in
your lust. So powerful was your orgasm that you appear only
semi-conscious. You are a picture of exhausted contentment framed by
the glory of your flowing dark silky hair.
I realise that your breathing has slowed down, and that you are now
asleep. I gently draw you once more into my arms and take you
upstairs, laying you gently down on your bed.
You smile, murmur something unintelligable, and shift your position
slightly. I plant one final kiss at the corner of your sleepy smile,
and prepare to leave.
-------------------------------------------
Friday 27th June 1997, revised Monday 14th July 1997 2.35 pm!
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