Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/L/LESLIE.TXT

Text File | 1989-04-18 | 7.8 KB | 123 lines

         The electric glow of magnesium-arc purple washed the Silver
     Cloud, casting it in a Maxfield Parrish landscape beneath the
     great oak.  Thomas had parked it under the tree on her command,
     on the very edge of the lot, the streetlight atop the post thirty
     feet away illuminating twice its radius with ease.  The lot had
     steadily filled up over the past half hour, the spreading wave of
     expensive automotive metal passing the Rolls even now.
         A large blue Mercedes sedan rolled slowly past her window,
     as she peered through the privacy curtain out into the well-lit
     night.  The driver, a handsome forty years old, was the lone oc-
     cupant.  He pulled into a space a row beyond where Leslie sat in
     white leather luxury, and her heart raced.
         She unlatched the opera-style door, and swung it wide, let-
     ting the streetlight shine into the roomy interior, the ends of
     the white mink fibers shimmering a soft purple, the flecks of
     sparkle in her imported silk stockings flashing out into the
     night.
         The driver of the Mercedes stepped out in white tie and
     cutaway tails, well-tanned and broad-shouldered, as might a long-
     shoreman look in a fifty-dollar haircut and a three-hundred-
     dollar tuxedo.  He locked his car, and turned, walking toward the
     Rolls on his way to the Governor's Ball.
         Leslie turned on the seat, extending a high-heeled pump of
     the palest of blue leather out onto the running board to catch
     his attention.  He stopped in his tracks, turned and looked in-
     side.  Leslie tousled her long blonde hair behind her, leaning
     back to rest on her hands behind her.  Waves of it fell back over
     the side of her face, the perfect contrast to full-length white
     mink.  From behind him, the streetlamp caught the movement of
     diamond dangling from her ear, the simple perfection of a strand
     of pearls around her neck.
         The white mink parted at the front, as she drew her knee
     toward her, the exciting pull of mink over silk sending an uncon-
     trollable rush through her as she let her thighs fall apart, her
     head lolling back in ecstatic anticipation.
         The driver of the Mercedes stood but a few feet away.
     Sparkles in the opaque rings of silk high up her thighs lured his
     attention, four bands of white lace tugging at the tops of her
     stockings.  The soft, naked flesh between her legs glowed a deep
     purple tan, the delicate pink between her legs glistened with
     wetness in the wash of the lamp.
         She flexed herself involuntarily, a tiny rivulet tickling
     her as it ran down the crease between her buttocks.  She forced
     herself to raise her head and met his wide-eyed stare.
         "Eat me," she said softly, a quiet urgency evident in her
     voice, as she placed a white satin pillow on the running board.
         He stepped toward her, slipping his hands under her hips,
     and knelt on the pillow.  Leslie lay back against the pile of
     pillows, caressing the dark curly hair behind his head with both
     hands, gently bringing him between her legs.
         He touched her softly, tracing the faintest outline of her
     clitoris with the tip of his tongue.  She moaned quietly, her
     back arching with pleasure, as he slowly, gently flicked across
     her, delicately, deliberately, sending tiny jolts of electricity
     to the muscles inside her.  His tongue slid down the length of
     her, probing quickly into her anus, and back up again, his strong
     hands gently but firmly gripping her buttocks.  More quickly,
     more firmly, back and forth, around and around, his tongue
     flicked at her clitoris.  The wetness from inside her trickled
     slowly into white fur under her.
         She clutched at his hair, pulling him tightly into her, as
     her orgasm arched her hips into his face, the wave of white ec-
     stasy washing over her body from within her.  She tried to free
     herself from him, but he held her more tightly, suddenly sucking
     on her excited flesh.  Another wave of blinding pleasure washed
     over her, and then another.
         "Please..," she murmured.
         Softly, at last, he eased her hips back down to the seat.
     Still he was sucking at her, gently, softly, the warmth between
     her legs spreading relaxation through every part of her body.  So
     gently did he separate from her, that at first she didn't notice.
     When finally she looked up, he was standing, straightening his
     tie.  He looked at her warmly, without smiling, winked con-
     spiratorially, and turned to walk toward the stately Governor's
     Mansion above the lot.

         Leslie stretched languorously, the slip of pure silk sheets
     cool against her naked skin.  She lay there in the half-sleep of
     morning, her hand still between her legs.  The fantasy of moments
     ago entered her mind once again, and she flexed her inner mus-
     cles, the goo from inside her flowing onto her fingertips.
         That one was her favorite, for sure...  Her father would
     die if he ever knew how many times she'd come all over the seats
     of his pride and joy in her dreams.  She crossed her arms under
     her pillow, the air heady with the smell of her.  She'd have to
     change the sheets before Teresa made up her room...
         Today was Saturday, wasn't it... Nice warm spring day, she
     thought, looking at the sunlight streaming in through the slats
     of the blinds over her window.  Nice day for a little fun and ex-
     citement?  She wondered.  She'd just come, but certainly she'd be
     ready by this afternoon... Besides, this was the week she'd been
     looking forward to for months!
         Her parents were spending two whole weeks in Jamaica, leav-
     ing her with Teresa, the cook and housekeeper, and Thomas, who
     looked after the house, and kept the cars.  Two whole weeks, to
     do whatever she wanted, to come and go as she pleased.  She was,
     after all, eighteen years old... well, this summer whe would be,
     anyway.  It wasn't as though she were not mature enough to handle
     the responsibility.
         She knew her mother had left instructions for Teresa to
     report everything Leslie did... but Leslie had a little arrange-
     ment with Teresa unbeknown to her mother.  It seemed as though
     Leslie had discovered Teresa and her boyfriend in his car, out in
     front of the house one night, and had come to an understanding
     with the housekeeper about future indiscretions, on both sides.
     Teresa had kept her job, and Leslie had guaranteed many years of
     unencumbered fun with Teresa as her guardian.
         She sat up, rolling out of bed onto the floor.  Her reflec-
     tion in the mirror was most satisfying... long, slender legs, a
     nice, tight little ass, small, but firm breasts, her skin smooth,
     and tan, and clear, her long blonde hair falling to her nipples,
     and down her back.  She was beautiful, she'd been told by some of
     the boys she'd been out with.  The kind of beauty that could be
     kept insulated from agressive advances because of the way it
     seemed to intimidate the boys her age.  The fact that she had
     such a wonderful appetite for fantasy and her own body belied the
     fact that she was still a virgin, something most of the girls she
     knew couldn't say.
         Leslie Worthington was a happy girl.  She'd been born to
     advantage, and didn't mind it a bit.  She turned, watching her-
     self in the mirror as she left the room, and disappeared into her
     bathroom, amidst the spray and steam of the shower.