I’m literally just stepping out of the shower when it hit. I tried desperately to hold on to the handle, to the frame, to anything I can get my paws on… at one point, it was coming so hard that I was actually suspended in mid air, parallel to the floor, and I figure that ten claw tips and that swing contraption were the only things that kept me from sailing off to Leduc. But the Hornicane’s grip is more persistent than that of a feeble rabbit, and eventually I go flying across the room, bounce off the mirror and end up on the table (you could probably look for my butt prints on the mirror… I know, I know - Paige uses this room, so there will be a lot of them… mine would be the really big ones with the tail marks between the cheeks 
).
So now I’m looking up to see the sweet Ms. Paige smiling down at me. She’s gloriously nekkid and looking superfine as always. She has pictures on that spectacular body of hers. Pictures and instructions. It’s the instructions that make me giggle a little bit – first, because I don’t understand how I’m supposed to “Go” when I have a pretty lady sitting on top of me, looking at me like I’m made of chocolate or something. More to the point, though, just the thought of being given instructions in this situation seems pretty ridiculous… it’s kinda like giving instructions to a nail when you’re starting to build a deck (1. Get hit. 2. Get hit again. 3. Get hit again….). The amusement is short – because boy, did I get hit.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
And then something odd happened. For no particular reason, there was a calm. Really – there was. The Eye, perhaps? Mercy? I don’t know… but for a while it was cozy, and the tickles and touches were soft and serene, and there were stories, and it was very soothing.
I have big ears, so I was the first to notice it. See, the walls aren’t exactly soundproof at Legends, and during my brief respite, we were unable to avoid hearing some other young lovely who must have been entertaining a guest of her own. And entertaining she was. Normally, this would be a very (very) sexy thing, but in this particular instance, I can’t help but think “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”. But it’s too late - Ms. Paige has heard it too. She bolts upward, and is sitting like a curious Meercat… and I’m thinking “what, they can afford a cage, and rice cookers, and a cross thingie, and pretend fireplaces… but there’s no money for a ball gag or two?”. Not much time to think anything more though, because Ms. Paige has been “triggered”, and is almost reverberating as she smiles down on me. And everyone knows what that means….
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
Jeez, she’s nice to me - so nice it’s almost silly. Paige est magnifique.
Happy thumping, all!
).So now I’m looking up to see the sweet Ms. Paige smiling down at me. She’s gloriously nekkid and looking superfine as always. She has pictures on that spectacular body of hers. Pictures and instructions. It’s the instructions that make me giggle a little bit – first, because I don’t understand how I’m supposed to “Go” when I have a pretty lady sitting on top of me, looking at me like I’m made of chocolate or something. More to the point, though, just the thought of being given instructions in this situation seems pretty ridiculous… it’s kinda like giving instructions to a nail when you’re starting to build a deck (1. Get hit. 2. Get hit again. 3. Get hit again….). The amusement is short – because boy, did I get hit.
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
And then something odd happened. For no particular reason, there was a calm. Really – there was. The Eye, perhaps? Mercy? I don’t know… but for a while it was cozy, and the tickles and touches were soft and serene, and there were stories, and it was very soothing.
I have big ears, so I was the first to notice it. See, the walls aren’t exactly soundproof at Legends, and during my brief respite, we were unable to avoid hearing some other young lovely who must have been entertaining a guest of her own. And entertaining she was. Normally, this would be a very (very) sexy thing, but in this particular instance, I can’t help but think “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”. But it’s too late - Ms. Paige has heard it too. She bolts upward, and is sitting like a curious Meercat… and I’m thinking “what, they can afford a cage, and rice cookers, and a cross thingie, and pretend fireplaces… but there’s no money for a ball gag or two?”. Not much time to think anything more though, because Ms. Paige has been “triggered”, and is almost reverberating as she smiles down on me. And everyone knows what that means….
*thumpthumpthumpthumpthump*
Jeez, she’s nice to me - so nice it’s almost silly. Paige est magnifique.
Happy thumping, all!
