The night sky unfolds revealing a curtain of royal blue while the warm morning air soothingly wisps through our hair. The ocean is so calm it appears as a sheet of glass. It's hard to tell where the sky ends or the ocean disappears over the horizon, stars fading with the last pulsating throws of their twinkling majestic wonder, the full moon's glow spreads all the way to shore as dawn ushers in the promise of unlimited bliss coupled with total erotic satisfaction magnified to the power of ten and taken to infinity...
Sitting astride the winning show bike of its class, her left forearm leans over the handle bar, her right hand forms an open handed fist that she comfortably places on her hip, the highly polished, sparkling Triumph Trophy 650 glissening between her thighs. The rigid frame accentuates the narrow profile of this legendary classic motorcycle. It's leaning to the left on a side stand with the front end cocked to the right...the most bad-ass stance a bike of this classification can achieve. Her right leg is bent at the knee and her tall riding boot rests easily on the rubber foot peg. Kid Jade has won six dazzling trophies for best bike of the show, and her smile is as gorgeous as her long flowing auburn-brown hair. She has the sexiest way of chewing gum I've ever seen, with her jaw moving from side to side and that pause she takes ever so slowly, her lips pursing, her tongue pressing the inside of her cheek pushing it outward and slowly her smile becomes an invitation to fantasyland unlimited. Her left boot is firmly planted next to the side stand and the arch in her back reveals a slender waistline completely exposed way below her naval. Her low rise jeans look as if they're painted onto a body so sleek and firm it makes your teeth itch to want to savor a taste of this magnificent wonder. She must be a beauty pageant queen, her classic '69 TR-6 reflects her awesome striking magnificence.
The announcment over the load speaker is unmistakable, "...and the overall winner of the 45th annual Anaheim Convention Center, Classic Motorcycle Show is the illustrious, the artistic, Kid Jade." The audience's applause is deafening and when the Kid dismounts her winning entry, her body moves like an olympic gymnist beginning a gold medal performance. Her teeth open wide as the gum chewing Diva's jaw jets back and forth, an exotically shaped mouth like that is every throttle jockeys dream fantasy come true. High cheek bones narrowing down to a gaunt extended jawline, teeth that growl silently against each other, ever ready to tease the strongest hammer swinger into submission. One look and your imagination explodes with the realization that no man alive could last a minute in her dauntless clutches...Oh, but what a minute...a minute to last forever and a day...
Her walk to the stage is nothing short of a Prima Donna's entrance to the opening night of a Grand Concert Gala. Her shoulders dip and sway with confidence born out of receiving consecutive wins, her unzipped suede, waist length jacket reveals a purlish/blue tie-dyed style, stretch velvetine tank top that barely restrains her overwhelmingly curvcious breasts from bouncing so delicately, they hesitate in their upward and downward mode of her panther like stride. Her nipples swell with excitment as the audiences applause increases while she mounts the steps toward the stage, those luscious tits begging for release. There isn't a man's mouth closed, or a woman's for that matter, at the moment her stride reaches the top stair. Her head shifts sideways as she smiles and thanks the audience with a fist to the heart gesture and a peace sign to follow. Her only words have the audience in the palm of her hand, "Ladies and gentlemen...start your engines...let's hit the beach." The whistles and roars of approval become a long ear deafening mantra and the auditorium empties and one by one the engines lite their fire.
The parade of classic motorcycles is a show all it's own. Jade tucks her first place trophy in her waistline, takes hold of my hand, looks up with the most juicy smile begging me to kiss those inviting lips so gingerly every nerve in my body jumps to a maximum state of arousal. Our tongues melt into each other and she shares her gum as we chew together pulling gently apart and back together. She lets me take the entire wad, reaches into a hidden pocket right next to her pussy and plunges two pieces at once in her mouth. "No wonder your gum tastes so sweet, it's aged to perfection." "If you want more, you'll have to go after it with your tongue." There are times when my tongue feels as hard as my cock...this is one of 'em. One more luscious kiss, her hand slides up my thigh and makes contact with my pocket rocket, she squeezes and pulls on the outside of my jeans, "I know what I want to chew on next. Let's find our own stretch of beach to party the night away." "Lead on, my luv."
I have been craving to be Jade's passenger for so long. I know the way she loves to have her tits massaged and rolled around as her pussy squirms in that place where the gas tank meets the seat. Our bodies quiver in unison as we mount this mighty stead. With a quick shuffle of her hand she reaches down my waistline and holds my cock as it swells in her palm, her fingers rolling around my shaft, "Just want to know what's in store for later." She pulls her hand up and pauses, tightens her fist around my swollen cock, pulls the head out from the edge of my belt, sucks and licks the clear liquid oozing out in a steady stream. "AAAHHHhhh...pure protein, my kind of drink." She has no idea what's in store for her on this magic ride...hang on throttle jockeys...