Quarter-mile-high club

Antonia Lavariti LoveLove-Lahore was in the basket of Thar-She-Blows II, which was floating over the low verdant mountains of northwestern North Carolina. Her view of said mountains, however, was intermittent – since she was bouncing up and down in seated position, she could only see over the basket’s edge on her upswings. To be specific: she was bouncing up and down on one Brian McMurphy, a brawny young rake who lay on his back at the basket’s bottom.

“Oh, yes!” Antonia cried. “Give me that sweet Irish honey!” she screamed, grabbing a fist of his chest hair and yanking it till he yelped in pain and pleasure. “Don’t be gentle, don’t be shy, man!” and she slapped him across the face thrice in succession. It was Brian’s first swing in a hot air balloon, but not Antonia’s. A materials engineer who specialized in fabrics for flight, as well as a certified pilot, she was often on excursions of the airship-type. Whenever her nymphomania erupted, a sky-high tryst was the inevitable result. She’d gotten her rocks off in stranger places.

The ride was nearing its finish now; every two minutes Antonia had to jump off her buck to pull the control lines connected to the vents. These brief pauses in their lovemaking agonized McMurphy.

“Aaarrrg!” he growled in near-ecstasy. “Sit back on my prick, you’re driving me mad!”

During their descent, screams of climax could be heard ringing through the mountain air. Upon landing, Antonia shut off the burner, and they watched the envelope deflate. It paralleled perfectly their recent coital come-down. McMurphy was head over heels.

“Antonia,” he said. “Antonia, I want to spend the rest of my days by your side. I LOVE you.”

But Ms. LoveLove-Lahore was not one to monogamize. “Sorry, baby,” she said. “No can do. I’m just not that kinda woman.”

~ by kingzoko on September 19, 2013.

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