<p>Dude (aka El Presidente)</p>
<p>That was beautiful! ;-)<br>
Did you ever think about writing trashy love stories for a living?</p>
<p>Okay son, it is time for grampa here to hit the sack but beautiful presidential moment, thank you.</p>
<p>PS I will have New paint and interior and 750 HP by July assuming I can borrow Laurie Basile's supercharger...otherwise I will just have new paint and interior ;-)</p>
<p>PS COPYING LAURIE FERRARI-THE-ONLY-WOMAN-TO-DRIVE-THE-SILVERSTATE-RACE-AND-SHE-DID-IT-TWICE-IN-A-PANTERA!!!!!!<br><br><br><br></p>
<p>Asa Jay Laughton via TPR <tpr@teampanteraracing.com> wrote:</p>
<p>>The brightness of new LED overhead street lamps produced a sharp glare <br>
>off the damp asphalt as the dark panther came roaring around the corner; <br>
>its own HID headlamps swinging around past the darkened business windows <br>
>and lighting up a tall slender figure of a woman in a knee-length white <br>
>dress at the opposite end of the block. Her neckline plunged deeply <br>
>toward her navel, her white-blond hair whipped from behind her to fall <br>
>lazily across her ample silky smooth bosom revealed by her dress as she <br>
>let the thunder and lighting rounding the corner of the building at the <br>
>far end of the block capture her attention, and it momentarily took her <br>
>breath away.<br>
><br>
>As if suddenly coming upon it's prey, the cat turned into stealth mode, <br>
>dropping the revs mid-way down the block and slowly stalked the woman in <br>
>white. It gently crept up to her until her waist came level with the <br>
>roofline. The passenger door gently popped and without hesitation she <br>
>deftly slid herself into the open seat, closing the door behind her as <br>
>if disappearing into the very night itself.<br>
><br>
>Comfortably seated inside, her white dress and ivory skin began to glow <br>
>green, reflecting the dashboard lights. She glanced at the driver, <br>
>lifted her head back with a gracious smile and gently spread her legs as <br>
>a leather gloved hand firmly grasped the tool that would soon deliver a <br>
>pleasure she'd never known. She quickly glanced his way again and saw <br>
>an urgency that caused her to latch the seat belt in place, and then <br>
>closed her eyes to let the panther do it's worse.<br>
><br>
>The gentle kitten's purr of horsepower behind her suddenly sprang to <br>
>life without warning, forcing her eyes open and her chest to rise. With <br>
>the symphonic sound of the gear-drive whining just behind her, the swift <br>
>distant whistle of air rushing through an intake and the thundering V8 <br>
>penetrating her thighs, she again closed her eyes and moved her hands <br>
>between her knees, slowly pulling them to herself. She felt the rush <br>
>quickly fade as the gloved hand moved the pleasure device through a <br>
>measured gate and then the feeling filled her once again. She closed <br>
>her knees, squeezing her hands between her legs and began to moan <br>
>softly, her eyes closed, her moist tongue tracing her lips.<br>
><br>
>Reaching the end of the thunderous torque band, the Panther lurched once <br>
>more between gates under the gloved hand, sending her breasts <br>
>momentarily in motion, her moans louder. "Yes!" she cried as she parted <br>
>her legs again, drawing the white folds of cloth to her waist. "Yes!" <br>
>again she squeezed, arching her back, trying to force her head back past <br>
>the headrest and into the rear window. The thunder grew louder as she <br>
>felt the torque pressing her into submission. "YES!" came her <br>
>satisfaction through moist lips when suddenly the rush paused for what <br>
>seemed an eternity to her..... but it wasn't.<br>
><br>
>She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly, only long enough to <br>
>see her tormentor smoothly begin moving toward a gate marked 4. Her <br>
>eyes grew wide in momentary horror and then complete submission as her <br>
>realization grew and she let out a small scream. "Oh my God... there's <br>
>MORE!" and she let her head fall back against the headrest again.<br>
><br>
>And her chest heaved against the dress, her legs tightly clamped against <br>
>her hands. The gloved hand reached over and pulled the shoulder strap <br>
>of her seat belt and yanked it firmly up, pressing her deeper into the <br>
>seat causing her pelvis to strain against it's confines as she struggled <br>
>for relief. The powerful thunderous roar of both the rushing wind past <br>
>the glass and the powerplant behind her filled her ears and could be <br>
>felt as tremendous tremors coursing through her. She even more moaned, <br>
>her eyes tightly shut.<br>
><br>
>As she anticipated the next pause in the pressure waves overcoming her <br>
>now writhing frame, the smile disappeared from her lips and was replaced <br>
>by that look of impending overwhelming pleasure she knew was near at <br>
>hand. She pulled her head down to glance past her breasts to her bare <br>
>legs softly glowing in the green light, street lamps pulsated across her <br>
>through the windshield like a strobe light. She felt the surge of the <br>
>fourth torque band climax and watched her own breasts bounce firmly as <br>
>the Panther grabbed fifth and she thought she would lose her mind.<br>
><br>
>She let out a shriek of piqued climax pleasure as she arched her head <br>
>and back in unison, straining against the seat belt. Her legs <br>
>unclenched and clenched as if out of control. Her eyes then fluttered <br>
>and aftershocks became visible across her dress.<br>
><br>
>And for its part, the cat gently eased off the throttle and let its <br>
>engine gently purr her into a soft, gentle faint of satisfaction which <br>
>she quickly acknowledged with a wry smile. With her hair tussled about <br>
>her shoulders, she licked her lips to show her pleasure and that she <br>
>would soon want more.<br>
><br>
>This ain't your average prancing horse or raging bull...<br>
><br>
>... This is PANTERA<br>
><br>
><br>
>It would be my distinguished honor to serve the Team Pantera Racing <br>
>populous, to do my best in furthering the dream of making it known to <br>
>others that a 40 year old Italian made, American powered vintage car can <br>
>still keep up appearances as if just graduating college with a degree in <br>
>'Kick Your Ass.'<br>
><br>
>It has been a pleasure running with the big dogs, even if occasionally <br>
>one has to stay on the porch. Sometimes the porch is a good place to <br>
>stay for a moment, to view the world and see how it's changed. But the <br>
>porch must never become so comfortable as to make you wish for it <br>
>constantly. It is only by the self-sacrifice for our brothers and <br>
>sisters that we gain our measure of satisfaction, and learn our own <br>
>capacities for grace, humility and endurance; not to mention a little <br>
>motivational ass-whoppin' when necessary. (I'm almost sure that's in <br>
>the Bible somewhere, though I might have paraphrased it).<br>
>:)<br>
><br>
>Ladies and Gentlepeeps, the Open Road Racing season is well upon us and <br>
>we have been caught slumbering with a Scooby snack in our belly. Big <br>
>Bend Open Road Race is BEHIND us. NORC is 12 days away. Do we have <br>
>committed (mentally or otherwise) TPR members for the SORC? Who do we <br>
>have pledged for SSCC? This is not the time to be lying on your <br>
>laurels; laurels are for sissies, Laura's on the other hand are for <br>
>laying on. (I'm pretty sure Patton said that one)<br>
><br>
>My fellow dogs (and cats), this is the time for all good racers to come <br>
>together to make those Panthers purr; to draw the women near and make <br>
>them squeal with pleasure at the mention of our names. And to usher in <br>
>that pleasure as my first official act as President, I will draft an <br>
>official pardon for the outgoing President for any and all past <br>
>transgressions with the Brazilian Girls, and instate his official <br>
>capacity to be that of President-at-large - for Life, an office sought <br>
>after by many, but not many with paws large enough to fill it.<br>
><br>
>Oh, and I'll try to keep the web site working too. :)<br>
><br>
>Asa Jay<br>
><br>
>Asa Jay Laughton, MSgt, USAFR, Retired<br>
>& Shelley Marie<br>
>Spokane, WA<br>
>******************************<br>
>http://www.racingagainstautism.com<br>
>http://www.teampanteraracing.com<br>
>http://facebook.com/racingagainstautism<br>
><br>
><br>
>On 5/1/2015 6:47 AM, Mad Dog Antenucci via TPR wrote:<br>
>> Proud and honored to announce AJ Laughton has been endorsed by all for <br>
>> Team Pantera Racing President.<br>
>><br>
>> There was not even a close second in the election except there was one <br>
>> vote cast for an old dawg..... but his paw print on the paper looked <br>
>> familiar.<br>
>><br>
>> So congratulations*Asa Jay*. We will all serve you proudly.<br>
>><br>
>> Dawg, now headed to the 'field' (actually the paint shop) in 5 minutes<br>
>><br>
>> Speech-Speech-Speech....hip hip horah....hip hip horah<br>
>><br>
>> tgif<br>
><br>
>_______________________________________________<br>
>TPR mailing list<br>
>TPR@teampanteraracing.com<br>
>http://teampanteraracing.com/mailman/listinfo/tpr_teampanteraracing.com<br>
</p>
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The brightness of new LED overhead street lamps produced a sharp
glare off the damp asphalt as the dark panther came roaring around
the corner; its own HID headlamps swinging around past the darkened
business windows and lighting up a tall slender figure of a woman in
a knee-length white dress at the opposite end of the block. Her
neckline plunged deeply toward her navel, her white-blond hair
whipped from behind her to fall lazily across her ample silky smooth
bosom revealed by her dress as she let the thunder and lighting
rounding the corner of the building at the far end of the block
capture her attention, and it momentarily took her breath away.<br>
<br>
As if suddenly coming upon it's prey, the cat turned into stealth
mode, dropping the revs mid-way down the block and slowly stalked
the woman in white. It gently crept up to her until her waist came
level with the roofline. The passenger door gently popped and
without hesitation she deftly slid herself into the open seat,
closing the door behind her as if disappearing into the very night
itself.<br>
<br>
Comfortably seated inside, her white dress and ivory skin began to
glow green, reflecting the dashboard lights. She glanced at the
driver, lifted her head back with a gracious smile and gently spread
her legs as a leather gloved hand firmly grasped the tool that would
soon deliver a pleasure she'd never known. She quickly glanced his
way again and saw an urgency that caused her to latch the seat belt
in place, and then closed her eyes to let the panther do it's worse.<br>
<br>
The gentle kitten's purr of horsepower behind her suddenly sprang to
life without warning, forcing her eyes open and her chest to rise.
With the symphonic sound of the gear-drive whining just behind her,
the swift distant whistle of air rushing through an intake and the
thundering V8 penetrating her thighs, she again closed her eyes and
moved her hands between her knees, slowly pulling them to herself.
She felt the rush quickly fade as the gloved hand moved the pleasure
device through a measured gate and then the feeling filled her once
again. She closed her knees, squeezing her hands between her legs
and began to moan softly, her eyes closed, her moist tongue tracing
her lips.<br>
<br>
Reaching the end of the thunderous torque band, the Panther lurched
once more between gates under the gloved hand, sending her breasts
momentarily in motion, her moans louder. "Yes!" she cried as she
parted her legs again, drawing the white folds of cloth to her
waist. "Yes!" again she squeezed, arching her back, trying to force
her head back past the headrest and into the rear window. The
thunder grew louder as she felt the torque pressing her into
submission. "YES!" came her satisfaction through moist lips when
suddenly the rush paused for what seemed an eternity to her.....
but it wasn't.<br>
<br>
She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly, only long enough
to see her tormentor smoothly begin moving toward a gate marked 4.
Her eyes grew wide in momentary horror and then complete submission
as her realization grew and she let out a small scream. "Oh my
God... there's MORE!" and she let her head fall back against the
headrest again.<br>
<br>
And her chest heaved against the dress, her legs tightly clamped
against her hands. The gloved hand reached over and pulled the
shoulder strap of her seat belt and yanked it firmly up, pressing
her deeper into the seat causing her pelvis to strain against it's
confines as she struggled for relief. The powerful thunderous roar
of both the rushing wind past the glass and the powerplant behind
her filled her ears and could be felt as tremendous tremors coursing
through her. She even more moaned, her eyes tightly shut.<br>
<br>
As she anticipated the next pause in the pressure waves overcoming
her now writhing frame, the smile disappeared from her lips and was
replaced by that look of impending overwhelming pleasure she knew
was near at hand. She pulled her head down to glance past her
breasts to her bare legs softly glowing in the green light, street
lamps pulsated across her through the windshield like a strobe
light. She felt the surge of the fourth torque band climax and
watched her own breasts bounce firmly as the Panther grabbed fifth
and she thought she would lose her mind.<br>
<br>
She let out a shriek of piqued climax pleasure as she arched her
head and back in unison, straining against the seat belt. Her legs
unclenched and clenched as if out of control. Her eyes then
fluttered and aftershocks became visible across her dress.<br>
<br>
And for its part, the cat gently eased off the throttle and let its
engine gently purr her into a soft, gentle faint of satisfaction
which she quickly acknowledged with a wry smile. With her hair
tussled about her shoulders, she licked her lips to show her
pleasure and that she would soon want more.<br>
<br>
This ain't your average prancing horse or raging bull...<br>
<br>
... This is PANTERA<br>
<br>
<br>
It would be my distinguished honor to serve the Team Pantera Racing
populous, to do my best in furthering the dream of making it known
to others that a 40 year old Italian made, American powered vintage
car can still keep up appearances as if just graduating college with
a degree in 'Kick Your Ass.'<br>
<br>
It has been a pleasure running with the big dogs, even if
occasionally one has to stay on the porch. Sometimes the porch is a
good place to stay for a moment, to view the world and see how it's
changed. But the porch must never become so comfortable as to make
you wish for it constantly. It is only by the self-sacrifice for
our brothers and sisters that we gain our measure of satisfaction,
and learn our own capacities for grace, humility and endurance; not
to mention a little motivational ass-whoppin' when necessary. (I'm
almost sure that's in the Bible somewhere, though I might have
paraphrased it).<br>
:)<br>
<br>
Ladies and Gentlepeeps, the Open Road Racing season is well upon us
and we have been caught slumbering with a Scooby snack in our
belly. Big Bend Open Road Race is BEHIND us. NORC is 12 days
away. Do we have committed (mentally or otherwise) TPR members for
the SORC? Who do we have pledged for SSCC? This is not the time to
be lying on your laurels; laurels are for sissies, Laura's on the
other hand are for laying on. (I'm pretty sure Patton said that
one)<br>
<br>
My fellow dogs (and cats), this is the time for all good racers to
come together to make those Panthers purr; to draw the women near
and make them squeal with pleasure at the mention of our names. And
to usher in that pleasure as my first official act as President, I
will draft an official pardon for the outgoing President for any and
all past transgressions with the Brazilian Girls, and instate his
official capacity to be that of President-at-large - for Life, an
office sought after by many, but not many with paws large enough to
fill it.<br>
<br>
Oh, and I'll try to keep the web site working too. :)<br>
<br>
Asa Jay<br>
<pre class="moz-signature" cols="72">Asa Jay Laughton, MSgt, USAFR, Retired
& Shelley Marie
Spokane, WA
******************************
<a class="moz-txt-link-freetext" href="http://www.racingagainstautism.com">http://www.racingagainstautism.com</a>
<a class="moz-txt-link-freetext" href="http://www.teampanteraracing.com">http://www.teampanteraracing.com</a>
<a class="moz-txt-link-freetext" href="http://facebook.com/racingagainstautism">http://facebook.com/racingagainstautism</a></pre>
<br>
On 5/1/2015 6:47 AM, Mad Dog Antenucci via TPR wrote:
<blockquote
cite="mid:2020312786.375599.1430488077063.JavaMail.yahoo@mail.yahoo.com"
type="cite">
<div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: rgb(255, 255,
255); font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light,Helvetica Neue
Light,Helvetica Neue,Helvetica,Arial,Lucida Grande,sans-serif;
font-size: 16px;">
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214" dir="ltr">Proud and
honored to announce AJ Laughton has been endorsed by all for
Team Pantera Racing President. </div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214"><br>
</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214">There was not even a
close second in the election except there was one vote cast
for an old dawg..... but his paw print on the paper looked
familiar.</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214"><br>
</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214" dir="ltr">So
congratulations<b id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9511"> Asa
Jay</b>. We will all serve you proudly.</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214" dir="ltr"><br>
</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214" dir="ltr">Dawg, now
headed to the 'field' (actually the paint shop) in 5 minutes</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214" dir="ltr"><br>
</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214" dir="ltr">Speech-Speech-Speech....hip
hip horah....hip hip horah</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214" dir="ltr"><br>
</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1430487498222_9214" dir="ltr">tgif</div>
</div>
</blockquote>
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