Context: After a particularly stressful week, My Harley was in need of release. Unfortunately, we were more than 500 miles apart, and we could not play. I asked her to channel her frustration and write a story for me. To tell me what she imagined would happen if I were there. In addition to being so sexy I can barely control myself around her, Harley has a devious, imaginative mind and brings out the best in me. Instead of just writing a story, she sent "part one" of an encounter, leaving me hanging, knowing I would respond. Together we wrote the following story with four short parts - two from each of our perspectives, each picking up where the other left off.
We hope it makes you come.
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Harley:
Days like today, when the tension builds slowly from 6 AM... when the phone never stops ringing and the kids never stop needing and the world never stops falling apart... when it feels like my skin is inside out and my teeth itch and my heart is too big for my chest... days like this I need you.
And this is all it takes. I send a text with the message "Need you." You're at my door minutes later. My frustration is palpable, but you have the power to twist and morph that energy into a more productive form.
You walk calmly to my desk and close my laptop. You turn my phone off. You pull me out of my chair by my upper arms and tell me to breathe. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in, and when I start to exhale you press deep into my neck with your thumbs... stopping the breath.
"Hold it in," you say. You lean in and whisper, "Let it build."
You unzip your pants, push me to my knees, and tell me to open my eyes and look up at you. Exhale. I Breathe down and out and onto your already hard cock and I pull you deep into my throat. I hear you groan deep in your chest and you tangle one fist into the back of my hair... you pull me back. "Forgetting something?" you ask.
I smile... relieved, grateful, happy... "Thank you. Thank you for the breath."
You tell me I'm a good girl... always such a good girl...
Sam:
"...always such a good girl..."
But even as the words leave my lips, I look down at you, kneeling in front of me, eyes glistening. Is that a tear in your eye? Taking a knee, I ask you if you are ok. You nod. I say "You're out of practice then, I guess. Let's try again."
I rise and pull your head forward, your warm mouth back onto my cock. "My sweet pet," I say, "you should be able to do this for much longer." Of course you can. I'm well aware of your stamina, even if you haven't been tested in some time. I've been negligent. That changes now.
Remembering our last play session, I fuck your face more forcefully - holding you against my body, my cock in your throat. After a few seconds I become aware of your gagging and begin to relax my grip on your hair, but you want to prove yourself. You need my cock, and you need to please me, even more than you need your next breath. I start to feel that you would pass out, your throat impaled on my cock, before stopping.
More alarmingly, my breath catches in my throat as I feel your hand on my balls. You want to push me over the edge. You're testing me, and I am getting close already. This won't do. I appreciate the sentiment, and it does feel good. But you know the rules. I will choose when, where and how I come. I had not planned on losing control today, and yet I am approaching the edge. You have this effect on me.
I pull you off my cock, saying "Harley. What are you playing at?" You look up at me, slightly mischievously, and say "Didn't you like it?"
Testing me again. This time I reach down and take one tit in each hand, squeezing firmly. You yelp and grasp at my hands as I pull you to your feet, my blood beginning to boil.
Regaining focus, I notice you are still wearing your pants. And your belt.
