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Leona Lights Up The Sky... Two Hundred and One Years Later

I lay in the dark staring out over the night waters of Lake Michigan through the floor to ceiling high rise windows with the blinds pulled up for an unobstructed view. No other buildings were as high as mine giving me a panorama of the sky and water. I had the windows as open as was possible in such a building. They let in enough of a breeze and the sounds from the park below. I was fresh and clean from my shower and I heard the water being shut off as Leona finished hers. We had been out together all morning and locked in sweaty embraces all afternoon. After all it was the 4th of July and it was hot in Chicago.

But the cool breeze blew across the lake and sent the first strains of The Overture through my windows. Sure they were using violins, but I knew this piece intimately so I heard the choral voices in my head. As if on cue Leona strolled in front of the windows. She was a short full figured red head. What a red head indeed. White on white skin, pink on pink nipples, and the longest, straightest, reddest hair I ever gripped while holding on for dear life and limb. Her tits were soft and huge, her belly round but still with an impossibly waspish waste which would flair out perfectly to a curvy and succulent bottom and hips only tapering again into the milkiest and whitest thighs I had ever feasted between. The red lip stick and nails were festive celebrations of her pallor and femininity. Not to mention a fitting nod to our countries flag. So with white skin, red hair and nails, I did what I could do to fuck her blue all afternoon. When I had risen for my shower I felt I had accomplished that task leaving Leona on the black satin sheets still gasping after her last spine wrenching orgasm. Now she posed with a sheer black wrap which did nothing to hide her curves in the back light from the evening windows and lightless room as the orchestra played it’s introduction. But on a tympani hit Leona turned her attentions to me.

With the end of the choral intro as the gentle oboe sang in it’s clear voice over the opening orchestral overture interlude I watched as Leona let her robe fall to the floor leaving her luminescent alabaster skin shinning in the darkness. I marveled at the outside curves of her full and womanly tits as the light peeked through the gap betwixt her milky thighs leaving a glow were I had frolicked in heaven all afternoon long.  Although she had cum numerous times, I had not spewed once, yet had shuddered the shudder of the dry prolonging orgasm. But my balls were tender from the effort. Perhaps in better light they might have a blue hue of their own.  But as Leona mounted the bed, first with one soft and shapely knee, only to be followed by the next my eyes were glued to the round full mounds of delight as they dangled and swayed while Leona slowly crawled between my thighs, lifted my knees, and spread my legs apart with her arms to gain access to my still extremely hard and somewhat sore prick now fragrant from the scented soap of my shower. The music changed again to a snare drum military theme as Leona's red red finger nails encircled my cock in her soft steam softened hands.

There it was . The oh so recognizable theme from the master Peter Ilyich ringing up from the park orchestra below as Leona began the slow rhythmic stroke up and down my length. Not just with hand or wrist for this delight in red. Leona was using her knees and raising her full body up and down in a titillating simulated fuck with just her fist giving me the friction stroke with the visual tit bounce she was made for. I remember thinking on our first meeting years before that she was too hefty a young lady and not my type. What a fool I was back then.

But then as the music built Leona reached for a scented tube of lube and with the movements of a world class conductor she began squirting the gel on my privates and flourished in time to the music as she smeared my schlong and thighs to full greased perfection. Then as the French theme from the music poured forth, she poured forth the lube on her massive ivory tits and rubbed them generously as the French theme covered her and the lube covered her breasts only to climax when she pulled me by my ankles down to the bottom of the bed, fell to her knees and with her hands pressed those globes around my cock and worked up and down in a manner that might even strike more fear in the French than the Russians had on the occasion this orchestral tribute celebrated. Leona’s tits worked my prick mercilessly. But still I maintained and did not come forth.

Then the gentle strains entered the music as I slowly was granted admittance between the full red painted lips of Leona's soft mouth and quivering tongue. Leona seemed to be vibrating at a high white frequency of desire as she began to gently suck my cock. Gently pulling, then exhaling causing the air pressure to force my throbbing member from between her lips only to suck me back in as her tongue worked its magic on me causing me some involuntary throbs. Leona quickly released me from her soft red lipped heaven and when satisfied she began a sort odd snake charmers dance in time and in mood with the new more oriental musical theme. Then again she hovered and shimmied before me with my dick in her capable and rhythmically wringing and stroking hands, smearing extra lube from below my balls to keep the steely shaft slick and throbbing under her Maestro’s touch.

Then again her tits surrounded my cock and she bounced her bounty furiously about them, only this time one of her well lubed fingers was introducing itself rather abruptly up my butt. With her long red fingernails I cannot say it was altogether pleasurable, but a certain price must be paid for such a glorious tit fucking.  I relaxed and enjoyed her soft tits flowing about me and ignored the rude red finger nail. There maybe blood, but good blood was flowing between me and my red headed alabaster goddess of the immaculately orchestrated fuck this Independence Day.

I could see the boats gathering out on Lake Michigan and noticed them taking final positions for the soon to cum fire works show. The music did it’s final tease of the full theme of the Overture and Leona was now stroking my prick in a reverent kneeling two handed praying position before me, much to the relief of my asshole. As the music became more agitated so did her strokes. She was being masterful in matching the cadences of this complex musical piece. When her lips parted over my cock for the final gentle violin interlude, Leona's soft suckling mouth surrounding my cock with blessed moisture and elation. It was as if the angels were playing their violins for me in the park below. As that movement slowly ended Leona's tongue was twirling gently on the tip of my dick which by now was throbbing, purple, sore, and about ready to explode. But Leona's grip on my balls gave me that pause to carry on through the cold Russian winter. I mean the hot Chicago July Fourth.

With the final call and response to the building themes of the 1812 Overture Leona’s head dropped to between thigh level putting her blue watering eyes on either side of my aching shaft. Her mouth was now in perfect position to take my balls into her mouth as her fists worked above stroking, stroking, and stroking as if marching in time to the dueling, then retreating armies portrayed in the music, with just enough clever woman added for her tongue to not only get under my balls but a momentary prod of my tender asshole with her much more pleasing tongue tip. With fists above and tongue below my female Maestro stroked in unison with the building marching military time.

Then just as a huge gob of cum issued in the air from out of the tip of my prick, lobbing it high in the air, the fireworks began outside in earnest for the finale of the 1812 Overture. As this huge gob of cum sailed in the air with the apartment lighting up from the fire work show on the lakefront Leona followed it with her eyes. When it slowly fell followed by my rapid fire barrage spurting heavily in time with each firework and musical beat, that first issue slowly fell and landed squarely on the tip of Leona nose splattering her face with my jizz to her delight and giggle. Our afternoon had paid off and I just kept spurting. One spasm for each explosion of pyrotechnics outside. Sometimes from my view a firework would blossom behind a wad of my cum reaching it’s apex causing it to flower in flaming release almost matching how it felt issuing from me. The afternoons conservation of cum was being released in four four time and splattering sheets, room, and Leona's fiery red hair in honor of the Russian wintertime defeat of Napoleons Army, The American Declaration of Independence, and beautiful buxom red heads everywhere.

Comments

  1. Like I said on Google, I'm thinking it's redheads that have more fun! Loved your use of music and history as an enhancement, or even a story within the story! Very skillfully done! I'm off to look at hair-dye! LOL!

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    Replies
    1. Some redheads are fun. Some create their own fun. The best ones let you watch when they do. One never knows what will come out of a moment of classical music and rising patriotic pride. Best thing is I have a whole year to fine tune and fix typo's and snafus on this first draft. But I was happy enough with it to foist it on an unsuspecting internet on a holiday eve. Boom Boom.

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  2. Where in the hell have I been? Let's turn back the clock .....

    ReplyDelete
  3. Boom! Boom! Loved "my red headed alabaster goddess of the immaculately orchestrated fuck this Independence Day." When I want A white-hot read on a red, white and blue day, I know where to look! Whoo hoo!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. So glad you liked it again. I know it made this conductors baton happy...again and again and again :o)

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  4. Wow...the sparks really flew on this tale. Happy 4th!

    ReplyDelete

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