| Author: | Greybeard | ISBN: | 9781301462544 |
| Publisher: | Greybeard | Publication: | February 4, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | Greybeard |
| ISBN: | 9781301462544 |
| Publisher: | Greybeard |
| Publication: | February 4, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
She was tall and lithe… well, not too tall, maybe 5’6”, with sexy, tan legs that were full and tight, not skinny like those anorexic fashion models, flowing gracefully into a nice, round ass that jiggled just enough to be enticing. Her skin sparkled as the thin bathing oil splashed and trickled down her shapely calves. Perfect hips, slender but full accentuating a slender waist and flat stomach. And those breasts. My Gawd! Full, round, solid, with just enough weight they pulled down slightly tilting the full areolas and nipples upward, round bulge to the side and full enough to form a natural cleavage. A full neck gently leading to a soft but fully defined jaw line. Thin, aquiline nose, full sensuous lips. Gawd, how he’d love to kiss those lips. Big eyes, long lashes, noise. What the hell was that gawd-awful noise?
Aw, hell. That beautiful lithe, tan body began to dissolve from the back of John Weston’s eyelids as the sound of a klaxon blaring penetrated his consciousness.
A sharp slap on his arm. “C’mon, get up. We’re scrambled.” That was Bobby Moore, his RIO, Radar Intercept Officer, his flight partner. The term was a holdover from days past of jet aircraft on ocean going carriers. Well, they were much the same now, except instead of flying over the ocean they were in the vastness of space.
John mentally gave her a soft pat on her round ass feeling the warmth of her sexy body. She smiled over her shoulder, eyes full of promise as her image rapidly faded to be replaced by the harsh reality of bright lights and metal walls, the rotating red beacon and that damned shrill, blaring klaxon that pulsed like a hammer beating in his head.
She was tall and lithe… well, not too tall, maybe 5’6”, with sexy, tan legs that were full and tight, not skinny like those anorexic fashion models, flowing gracefully into a nice, round ass that jiggled just enough to be enticing. Her skin sparkled as the thin bathing oil splashed and trickled down her shapely calves. Perfect hips, slender but full accentuating a slender waist and flat stomach. And those breasts. My Gawd! Full, round, solid, with just enough weight they pulled down slightly tilting the full areolas and nipples upward, round bulge to the side and full enough to form a natural cleavage. A full neck gently leading to a soft but fully defined jaw line. Thin, aquiline nose, full sensuous lips. Gawd, how he’d love to kiss those lips. Big eyes, long lashes, noise. What the hell was that gawd-awful noise?
Aw, hell. That beautiful lithe, tan body began to dissolve from the back of John Weston’s eyelids as the sound of a klaxon blaring penetrated his consciousness.
A sharp slap on his arm. “C’mon, get up. We’re scrambled.” That was Bobby Moore, his RIO, Radar Intercept Officer, his flight partner. The term was a holdover from days past of jet aircraft on ocean going carriers. Well, they were much the same now, except instead of flying over the ocean they were in the vastness of space.
John mentally gave her a soft pat on her round ass feeling the warmth of her sexy body. She smiled over her shoulder, eyes full of promise as her image rapidly faded to be replaced by the harsh reality of bright lights and metal walls, the rotating red beacon and that damned shrill, blaring klaxon that pulsed like a hammer beating in his head.
