mandy's swing

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Erotic Flash  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group


Mandy’s Swing

I remember a day I watched a pair of Olympic fencers. Their astonishing speed, agility, and precision fascinated me. Clashing foils and blinding footwork, it seemed an unaccountable display of physicality.

When the combatants removed their masks and shook their hair out, I applauded their beauty; one woman Asian, the other of probable Scandinavian descent.

I doubted that any amount of practice could duplicate what they brought so naturally to that narrow arena. Certain people are born with a calling. I am a spectator; that is it.  I’ll not soon have mastery over anything that requires what I humbly describe as “exquisite physical control.”

No matter, my role as a spectator is not without benefits. I’ve held seats at a thousand sporting events and attended many classical concerts.

Like fencers, many world-class musicians boast a sniper's precision. Uncannily balanced, shifting to draw the purest note from an instrument.

My neighbor, Mandy Lasker, is one such musician, a violinist known internationally for her smoldering bow attack. To watch her play is to see her dance, an alluring goddess at play in the fields of the Gods.

Yet, there is another field where Mandy performs--I am her hidden spectator. A stretch of Manila rope hangs from the elm tree in her backyard, thick with a large prickly knot at its end. As Mandy mounts her knot, she lays back and lets her hair trail while she swings low over the ground. Her pussy is her song, as is her mounting pleasure.

End

 


Submitted: May 19, 2022

© Copyright 2022 Laird. All rights reserved.

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