 |
|||
| Similar Pages | |||
|
Angel of Mercy - Leather
|
|||||||||
|
He sat toward the end of the bar, slowly twisting his beer bottle around and staring absently at the label. He chuckled to himself…if one was to believe all the commercials, one would think that simply drinking this beer would bring on multitudes of women, parties and white water rafting. He took a swig and set it back down to stare at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He didn’t need any beer to be popular; he had his career to do that for him. So why was he sitting in this same old place with these same old people that he had seen for so long they seemed like permanent fixtures? He raked his hand through his hair, sighing heavily. It was hard even for him to believe that a rock star could possibly be dealing with such an issue as boredom. The tours kept him busy enough, and he was grateful for that, but now they were on break with not a whole lot to do. How did the other guys stay sane? Well, Scott did have his women, and his kid. And Mark just threw himself into the music as usual. He was content with his life, no question about that, he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. But right now, as he sat there feeling sorry for himself, he felt like he’d done everything he had wanted to do. He wished he knew what it would take to snap him out of his funk.
As he wallowed in his misery, he hadn't even noticed that someone had sat down next to him. That is, until he heard her order up some champagne. Who the hell comes into a bar like this and orders champagne? He looked over his shoulder at her as she shrugged off her leather jacket and set it on the back of the stool. In fact, she was dressed nearly all in black leather: vest, chaps, boots, and a nice pair of tight blue jeans. They almost seemed painted on, he thought, as he glanced back up at her face. She caught him watching her, and smiled as she tucked a strand of her long red hair behind her ear. He felt himself blush and he went back to studying his beer. The bartender presented her with the champagne and filled up a pilsner glass. She took a drink and set the glass down, and he glanced over at her hand, her long fingers stroking lightly over the glass, a silver thumb ring reflecting brightly in the dim light. His eyes followed up her arm to settle on a rather intriguing tattoo of an angel that stretched from her shoulder nearly to her elbow. He wasn't even aware that she was watching him too until he heard her voice.
"Nice tats." She said. His head snapped up in surprise and he met her eyes: as green as jade and sparkling with life. He couldn't help but smile when he looked at her.
"You too." He responded. She thanked him, and raised the glass to her lips. He watched her sip the champagne, licking it slowly off her lips. He briefly wondered how that mouth of hers would feel against his, shaking the thought out of his head. She couldn’t possibly be interested in him.
"Are you celebrating something today?" He asked her, attempting to make conversation.
"Just celebrating life." She replied with a light laugh. She was most certainly the most interesting person he'd seen in a long time. "It's too bad you have to buy the whole bottle just for one glass. Would you like to share some?" He looked at his warm and stale beer, and pushed it away. What the hell, he could use a change of pace. As she gestured for another glass, she kindly refused his offer to pay for part of the champagne. When his glass was filled, they toasted to one another.
He began to ask for her name when the jukebox came on unwelcomingly loud. She had heard him, though, and leaned toward him, her hand resting on his thigh, to whisper her name into his ear. He had barely comprehended her, as he was electrified by her touch and the scent of vanilla that enveloped him when she leaned so close.
"My name is Scott." He said, forcing himself back to reality. "But everybody calls me Flip."
"Okay, Scott." She grinned. "How would you like to shoot a game of pool?" She gestured toward the back of the room.
"Nah. The tables here suck." He replied, wanting to kick himself as soon as he said it. She leaned back and removed her hand from his leg, seemingly disappointed. Well, it didn't take long to kill the mood, did it, he thought. Just then, he piped up. "But I've got a table back at home. A real nice one, and you don't have to deal with all this smoke and shit." He surprised himself with his own boldness, and was even more surprised when she accepted his invitation. She snatched up her jacket, and he followed her out, taking the time to admire her backside. Yes, those jeans showed off her ass really well, he smiled.
She followed him to his home on her motorcycle. When they arrived, he couldn't help but stare at the vision before him when she climbed off her cycle, then removed her helmet, shaking her hair out, the gold highlights catching the sun. Everything about her intrigued and excited him. He led her into the house, and she admired his tasteful decorating as he showed her to the game room, fighting off the urge to just show her straight to the bedroom. He retrieved a couple of beers while she the tossed off her jacket and racked up the table. As they played, he felt himself going crazy every time she leaned over to take her shot, whether he was looking at her from the back or getting a glimpse of cleavage from the front. She wasn't helping matters much either, standing close behind him, so that he bumped into her when he stood up, brushing her lips against his ear whispering that it was her turn. He was about to grab her and give her a turn, when she slipped away to the other side of the table. "Two can play at that game," he thought, and walked over behind her, discarding his cue. They hadn’t even made it through the first game, but he'd had about all he could take. She stood up and stepped back into him. He wrapped his arms around her and felt her sigh as he kissed her neck. She dropped her cue as he slowly unsnapped the buttons on her vest--it was just getting in the way anyhow. After slipping the vest down her arms, she leaned back into him as he grazed on her shoulder, caressing her stomach and breasts. He had not expected to find her wearing a leather bra under her vest, and the thought that she just might have a whole leather ensemble excited him even more. She ran her hands up and down either side of his hips, brushing against him with her rear. Combined with her intoxicating scent, every touch made him only want her more. She leaned her head back against his shoulder as he kissed her neck.
"I thought you'd never take your turn." She purred, and then raised her head, turning around in his arms to face him. She ran a hand through his short blonde hair before pressing her lips hard against his as she lifted one leather-clad leg and wrapped it around his hips, pulling him against her. He was caught by surprise, to say the least, but damn if this wasn't exciting. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, eliciting a soft moan from her throat as she ran her hands down his chest and up underneath his shirt. They broke contact as he lifted his shirt over his head, and she leaned in to bite at his neck. She sat back and smiled, and he ducked his head down to run his tongue from the valley between her breasts up to the hollow in her throat, where he kissed and nibbled his way to her ear.
"Is everything leather?" He whispered, grazing her earlobe with his teeth.
"Why don't you find out?" She teased. He pulled back to look into those jade eyes, and was met with a mischievous gaze. Kissing her full lips once more, he quickly trailed down with his mouth and hands, undoing the clasp on her bra to release her warm flesh. She lowered her leg to afford him more freedom, moaning softly as he rolled her nipples between his calloused fingers and sucked at them until they were as hard as pebbles. Kneeling down, he planted soft kisses across her stomach, which trembled with excitement as he worked at her chaps and jeans. Even the simple act of unzipping the chaps at the inside of her legs caused her to jump, and made the tightness in his own jeans more noticeable.
Once free from her clothes and boots, he was not disappointed to find that she indeed was wearing a matching leather thong. It didn't stay on her long, though, for he slowly slipped them down her long legs, and placed his mouth over her in return. She murmured his name and ran her fingers through his hair as he nipped and sucked at her clit. Slipping two fingers into her, he heard her gasp as he slowly worked them in and out. He could feel her legs quiver as he sucked harder and increased the pace of his fingers. She tasted sweet and salty, and her musky scent was making him wild with desire. He glanced up; her eyes were closed and her lips parted, taking in erratic breaths in between moans--she was so beautiful. He closed his eyes and let out a moan himself, and the vibration of his mouth caused her to yelp. With his free hand he undid his jeans to relieve some of the pressure, but that wasn't enough. He needed to be inside her.
Unable to wait any longer, he pulled his fingers out of her and stood up to shed his jeans and briefs. Turning her around, she leaned her hands against the table and spread her legs, as he swiftly entered her from behind. He pounded into her, and he could hear her groaning, saying his name and urging him on. She made him feel raw, untamed…alive. He felt beyond himself, forgetting his woes, possessed by her spirit. He held her hips steady with one hand and reached the other around to massage her from the front. He wanted to take her with him; he needed to feel her tightness around him when he came. He was quickly rewarded for his efforts as he felt her clench and cry out in the throes of her orgasm. Thrusting deep into her, he released with an animalistic growl, quickly overtaken by her body’s reaction. Satiated, she let her forehead rest against the table and he lay over her back, his arms wrapped around her waist. They both were still standing, barely, using the table for support for all it was worth. He smiled as he thought to himself that he would never look at that pool table the same ever again.
|
|||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
|
Copyright
TMS2003
|
|||||||||
| page created with Webpage Designer (NS) |