After several years of working together, Stephanie left our school to work at a magazine. We didn't see each other much, but kept in touch through Facebook and the occasional text. She had a new boyfriend (huge surprise!) and things were going well, so I didn't expect to hear from her until things went wrong. Steph being Steph, that took about four months...
I was at school when she texted me, asking me to help her collect a big chair she wanted from her ex-boyfriend's house. Physically, this sounded easy enough, but the situation sounded like a bad idea from the start. I've always been a sucker, though, so I said yes. I met her at Starbucks, and she explained that they broke up the previous week and she wanted her chair back-he was OK with her getting it, but it was too big to manage alone. OK...
Needless to say, there was immediate drama. The boyfriend was at the apartment, and he wanted to play "Who the fuck is this guy?" and act all tough. Steph got pissed, and they argued the whole time we cleared a path for moving the offending chair. I kept things calm, and with some backing and filling, we got the damn thing downstairs and into the back of my SUV.
With a final "Fuck off!" hanging in the air, we left the uncomfortable scene behind and made our way back toward the highway. I followed her to her new house, thinking of how to bitch her out for putting me in such an uncomfortable and potentially dangerous situation. I was also kicking myself for saying yes. I kept my comments to myself as we unloaded the chair and got it up the small flight of steps and into her living room.
Finally, I turned to her and said, "Well, that was some bullshit! Why didn't you tell me he was going to be there?"
She knew I was pissed, and some part of her knew how fucked up the situation was. How was it OK to get a married friend into a fight with her ex over a chair? Why was I even there? No doubt the hook-up a few months back played a part, but still...
"I know that was fucked up, and I'm sorry I got you into it. I just really wanted the chair back."
"Yeah, I got that part," I said. "I don't even know why I said yes, though."
She smiled. "I do," she said. "You were hoping I'd pay you back."
"Now that you mention it..." I said with a smirk.
True to form, she didn't waste any time. She dropped immediately to her knees, rubbing her hands across the front of my khakis, looking up at me with lust in her eyes. When she pulled out my stiffening cock, I grabbed her hair and pushed it into her mouth, wanting to punish her a little bit. She flinched when my cock hit the back of her throat, but let me hold her head and fuck her mouth. Her hands went to my ass and urged me on. After a few minutes, I slowed my pace, not wanting to finish that way.
I pulled all the way out, and her hands wrapped enticingly around my shaft, stroking my spit-slickened cock while her tongue swirled around the head. I was still pissed at her, so as good as her treatment felt, I wanted to push things a little bit. Pulling her head back into position, I slid back into her mouth. When I was at her tonsils, I paused. Her tongue snaked out to lick the bottom of my cock. "Take a deep breath," I said. She did, but her eyes widened a little. The widened more when I pushed deeper into her throat, feeling her swallow to fight her gag reflex. Fuck that felt good! I held myself in place for a few long moments, savoring the tight rippling of her throat before pulling back to let her breathe.
"Holy shit..." she gasped, tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes..."you are pissed at me, aren't you?"
"A little bit," I said, pushing back into her mouth.
