Well, you'd wondered where the magic had scampered off to, but you needn't worry your pretty little hairdo any longer! Just this morning, you received a personal message from TVRED, of Indianapolis, and baby, you know you're still smokin' hot.
You find it hard to describe this gem, so you'll just reprint it in its original form:
Good Morning, Annoying Deadbeat Townie,
I know this is waaaay forward, but I was tired of the typical pick up lines on this site. So I decided to write you a story instead. Please accept it as the compliment it is meant to be.
To set the scene, Britsh Virgin Islands on a sail boat, just us. The breeze is warm, the sun is hot and the water is the most beautiful blue you could ever imagine. I am standing behind the wheel and you are stretched out on the deck as we're clipping along in gentle waters at about 7 knots. We have a bottle of good champagne open and a bunch of fresh fruit out on the deck as well. You are laying with your top off sunning yourself up on the deck above the cabin under the mainsail, with your head toward me and your feet toward the bow of the boat. I am in some surf shorts and a cabana shirt (you know the ones that are button on the front, short sleeves, that stay untucked) with it unbuttoned partially and blowing around in the breeze. That scene seems to play for some time as we sail from one inlet earlier in the morning to another on an island somewhere else in the BVI to anchor and spend the night there. As we sail around an uncharted island the wind picks up but is still comfortable. The only difference is that some waves are starting to splash over the bow of the boat now. We sail into a wave that as we crash down, the splash comes up and blows over teh top of the boat getting you wet in the process. The spray startles you and you sit up and scream a bit. I stand there and laugh as I saw it coming. Instantly the cool water on your body and the warm wind gives you incredible nips. And as you sat up, your bikini bottom allowed me to see down them and see the crack of your butt. The moment gets up up and you come back to the cockpit (no pun intended) and pour yourself some champagne and eat some fruit. You come back to where I am and feed me some fruit and give me a drink of champagne as well. Then you walk behind me and put your arms up and on my chest. Instantly my dick starts to grow. You run your right hand down my chest across my stomach and over the waistband of my shorts and down to my crotch where you feel my hard on as you go to fondle my balls.
You squeeze them gently, enough to be very erotic but not hurt. I sigh and lean back against you, cupping my hand over yours to squeeze a little and move your hand back up over my hardon. I turn so I can feel your breasts against mmy back, and run your hands back down over my hardon. I turn toward you and fasten my mouth over one of your nipples which are now really hard. You moan at the feel of my warm, moist tongue and feel yourself grow wet in response. I suck gently and flick my tongue over the nipple before moving over to pay the same attention to the other one. You bring your hand up and rub it across the breast I have moved away from. You ease your legs apart and I slide two fingers into your bikini bottom and between the slick lips of your pussy. You moan again, with your head thrown back. I lift my head from your breast and kiss you passionately, thrusting my tongue deep into your mouth. I taste sweet, like the strawberries and kiwi fruit you've been feeding me...
Lucky you! What a seaman, huh? And to think that that pearl of prose was written exclusively for nobody else in the entire universe except for you. Glorious, irresistible you! How else could he have known how much you dig guys who look like Parrotheads?
And the sweetest thing about this whole thing? Why, your new beau's got talent! He'll be writing Nora Roberts-style bestsellers in no time, and there the two of you will be, glorious and tanned and covered with each others' respective effluvia!
Ahoy, mate!
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