Inspiration Ch 04

(Author Note)

The acts of the fetish known as Breath Play performed in this and other stories by ME are not recommended to be attempted by those without experience, not educated concerning this fetish, and without an experienced and trustworthy partner.

Thank you.

*****

He couldn't sleep, tossed and turned as his mind was consumed.

Victor found himself seated in his favorite chair by lamp light, a glass of wine atop the chair side table and a cigar tucked between his lips. In his hand was an artist lead pencil and over the textured paper of a brand new sketch pad he started to create.

His eyes were focused as smoke exhaled through his nostrils. Before his eyes the visions of his mind were given life through shading and details. Far too long it had been since he sketched and, though he was tired, it was exhilarating to again create.

Yes, surprisingly to him, Rosangela's so called change in his process seemed effective. He continuously stroked the pencil over the paper, paused to flick an ash then used his fingers to smudge the shading. On that paper he sketched exactly his desired bound image he planned to enact when she was good and satisfied.

His lips smirked as he again removed the cigar. Oh, he praised in thought, when she was good and satisfied then shall he. His mind derived something special for his latest inspiration. With all the work he already currently done and likely will continue until she decided she's had her fill, he was determined to make this future best seller of the erotica genre would be epic.

He lightly chuckled, puffs of smoke passed his lips. His eyes gleamed with inspiration as he sang, "Rosangela."

Her red lips lipped the lyrics of the song that loudly played in her ears through the ear buds.

Rosangela was just finishing up her shift at the book store. She felt damned energized after her evening with the infamous Victor Hardway. Her mind was persistent with flashbacks of her first none solo breathless experience where she discovered the meaning of having a mind blowing orgasm. Yes, Victor Hardway was definitely a master at erotica, not only the written word but the actual physical act.

She spun around, just finished shoving some books back into place. She strutted down the aisle, one final book clenched in her hand. Her body subtly motioned with a sexual dance rhythm as she sang, "One look, could kill. You're pain, my thrill!" She spun and crammed the final book into its correct place.

Again she spun on her red vinyl platform red Mary Jane's and strutted towards the front of the book store. As she neared the front, there came a flash of lightning through the front bay windows of the store. A stormy night, unlike the night before where nothing really sprouted unlike what occurred at her place.

She stepped behind the counter and started to gather her belongings. She was locking up on her own that night, Stew off and owner Al had left early.

Her eyes focused on the bay window as she slipped on her PVC black rain coat. Her eyes flinched against another burst of lightning followed by a slight glass shaking bout of thunder. Her glossy black fingertips snapped each button of the rain coat. Her eyes shifted as she leaned, searched for any sign of the black Porsche.

Would he again show up? Had she perhaps worn out her welcome into his life by her determination to seemingly screw with his creative process?

She grabbed her purse, keys in hand, then turned flipping the switches to the bookstore lighting.

Another flash of bright lightning, her eyes snapped wide at the sight of a brief black shadow on the wall. She startled, spun around and aimed her wide eyes at the window.

She sighed then mumbled, "Jerk."

Victor stood before the store front bay window.

She frowned then left the counter and marched to the door. She unlocked the door then opened it, peeked her head out. She greeted, "Hey, Mr. Hardway!"

He crossed his arms over his chest and flashed her a greeting smile then said, 'Rosangela."

She slipped out of the door, closed it then locked it up tight. She quipped, "Excited?" She turned and faced him, her smile big.

He continued to smile then asked, "So, what are we going to see?"

She giggled then stepped up to him. He was definitely still a bit frustrated with her, she read it clearly within the shadows of his eyes. "What ya wanna see?" she asked him, "Got any preferences, hmm?"

He shook his head and stated, "This is your idea, so pick what you would like to see."

She again giggled as a loud clap of thunder sounded. Her eyes shifted and looked up at the sky. She commented, "Wonder how bad it's gonna get."

His brows lifted and he muttered, "Better be damned good."

She quickly looked at him, asked, "What was that?" She suspiciously eyed him.

He shook his head and stated, "Nothing."

"Okay!" she excitedly chirped then stated, "I'm thinking a good horror movie." Her eyes scanned and spotted his Porsche then marched its direction.

Rosangela chose her horror movie and the perfect spot in the movie theater where there was barely a soul nearby. She was perky and so nonchalant the entire time, well, she was on a movie date with Victor Hardway.

It had been a while since she was on an actual date, though it seemed the person she was on the date with was being somewhat forced into it. Yet, she determined, her little bargain was the only way she would have convinced the author to actually take her on a date.

The movie began as Rosangela eagerly enjoyed her popcorn but Victor seemed less enthused.

His mind was more so focused on what would take place after the movie. Would she finally consent to return to his apartment so he could truly embrace his creativity? Or would she again have him back at her place fucking her as she wanted?

He determined that she was unpredictable which, self admittedly, he enjoyed. His creative process was changed but easily he found inspiration and already started to create. Yet, he wasn't certain how much more he could take. How much longer was he to wait to get what he wanted, more so needed?

His eyes didn't focus on the horror being displayed on the screen. His mind was again strolling through the paths of where his inspiration would lead him. A glimmer was within his dark eyes as a slanted smirk traced over his lips, heightened the defining line about the left side.

So many scenarios. So many concepts. So many means to achieve his ultimate goal of creative perfection. So many possibilities, for his inspiration was far from like any of the others.

Rosangela's eyes shifted, looked to the author and read clearly that his mind was elsewhere. A grin perked across her lips. How she would love to be inside his mind and see the visuals that she knew involved her.

Her head turned as her eyes studied him within the lighting from the large theater screen. She watched as he relaxed in the theater seat, his arms lifted and draped along the backs of the other seats, including hers. Yet, she knew he was far from watching the movie. Her eyes shifted downward just as he adjusted his hips.

Her lips curiously puckered as she set the bucket of popcorn on the seat to her right. She lifted the armrest that separated them. She wondered how far into his thoughts he really was and if those thoughts were arousing.

Slowly she lifted her left hand, her black glossy fingertips anxiously twitched. Down she lowered her hand, aimed directly at his crotch.

His eyes blinked the moment he felt a full hand embrace his groin. His eyes shifted to the right and there was her lovely face twisted with curiosity. His grin broadened the moment he felt her firmly press the heel of her hand down against his hardening cock. He adjusted his hips and spread his legs.

Her eyes locked with his, a mischievous glint in both their eyes. She leaned closer to him as her fingers worked the shape of his cock through his trousers. Her grin broadened, felt his cock harden further against her firmly massaging hand.

The horror continued to play out on the screen as she slid her hand upward, dragged her lengthy fingernails along the seam of his fly. With one hand, she worked free the buckle of his belt, undid the single button then guided down the zipper.

Their eyes steadily locked, she slipped her hand beneath the waist of his boxers then dipped deeper and wrapped her fingers firmly around his cock. She slyly licked her lips as her hand firmly stroked up and down the rock hard length of his cock.

Her eyes shifted, glanced around at the other theater goers; very few and no one particularly too close. Her eyes shifted back to his and with a downward shift made the silent announcement of her upcoming move.

He gave her an approving nod, watched her grin broaden. There was a definite curiosity to how that smooth labret piercing would feel against his cock.

His eyes followed as she leaned down, her hand smoothly worked his cock from his boxers and the undone fly of his trousers. Down his eyes shifted then lightly flinched the moment her lips brushed against the tip of his cock.

His eyes lifted and vacantly aimed at the film on the screen. A slight sneer formed over his top lip as his entire cock was delivered deep inside her mouth, her lips firmly puckered and tongue pressed. Yes, he loved that sensation of her lip ring as she slid her lips back up along the length of his cock.

He lowered his right arm, brought his hand against the tousle of ringlets at the back of her head. His hips shifted in response to her firm sucks. Firstly he kneaded his fingers against her hair, indulged in the slow up and down motion of her head as she worked his cock so wonderfully with her entire mouth, but bit by bit his hand formed a fist gathering her hair.

His left arm lowered, hand brought to the crown of her head then slowly slid down over the shape of her motioning forehead. His sneer broadened, a sly excitement fluttered in his chest and flexed his cock. Obviously he was mistaken about the movie date being boring and was determined to make it worth his while.

She focused, ignored her own excitement dampening her panties. She prided herself at being an expert at blow jobs. She used her entire mouth and nearly swallowed his cock without effect on her gag reflex. She loved the sensation of his cock's eager twitches and pulses which proved her expertise. Yet, there was something suspicious about the aim of his left hand but she refused to relinquish her focus.

He found the bridge of her nose, his thumb and index traced down the shape until they felt the flare of her nostrils. He lightly bit down on his bottom lip then deviously grinned. No hesitation, he pinched off her nose, felt her surprised gasp vibrate his cock.

His right hand firmly fisted a handful of her hair, letting it known she wasn't coming up until his cock was satisfied and filled her lovely mouth.

He lightly closed his eyes, focused on every sensation her mouth lavished over his cock. His head leaned back, the tip of his tongue licked between his teeth and grinning lips. He nudged his hips, signaled her to work his cock harder.

Her pussy was inflamed with further excitement the moment he pinched off her nose, her hips shifted. She groaned, the breathlessness sweet and quick. At the tip of his cock she barely caught a breath but her determination was greater than her need to breathe. She devoured his cock then firmly drew it back against the firm press of her tongue and suckle of her lips, the entire time he kept her nose pinched.

Over and over, up and down she sucked his cock, tasted the salty dribble over the taste buds of her tongue. She grunted against the suffocation, her eyes squeezed tightly closed with concentration. She felt his cock's pulses quicken as did the eager flinches.

Her left hand firmly latched to his knee and dug her nails into the expensive material of his trousers. She continuously grunted, wanted him to cum in her mouth before she was unable to take any further breathlessness.

He controlled his vocals, breathed heavily through his nose. His right hand tightened its grip of her hair as his left hand kept a firm pinch of her nose. Her grunts were wondrous additional sensations against his cock and heightened the nearing explosion. He reactively shifted his hips, knew he was about to cum.

His hair fisted hand stiffened, stopped her midway up his cock. He nearly thrust his hips upward, drove his cock deep into her mouth. His lips gaped as his cock exploded and filled her mouth with his heated cum. His eyes lightly rolled in response to the sensation of the explosion fading over his stiffened body.

Her nose was released, she swiftly inhale through her flaring nostrils. His hand released her hair, she carefully rose up and took steady deep breaths through her nostrils. Very slowly she swallowed as she continued to rise. Her hand reached back and fetched the drink in the cup holder to her right then she brought the straw to her lips.

His eyes focused on her as his hands tucked his satisfied cock back into the confines of his boxers and trousers. He pleasingly grinned as she eyed him with the straw tucked between her lips. He gave her an approving wink.

She belted out a laugh, startled at her response then slapped her hand over her mouth knowing she just disturbed the other movie watchers.

The movie finished, they raced to the Porsche through the pouring rain.

Inside the car, Victor assumed, "My place then."

Rosangela gasped with surprise then dashed the author's assumption with a question, "What gave you that impression?"

His hand tightly gripped the gear shifter. Again, he thought, really?

She smirked then stated, "I not once hinted that I intended on going to your place tonight."

His foot lightly pressed the gas, the engine slowly revved. His eyes narrowed as they stared forward through the windshield. Reluctantly his eyes shifted and looked at her smirking face. How, he thought, she loved her damned control.

She shifted her smirk into an innocent smile along with a sweet tilt of her head. She mocking pouted her pierced bottom lip then apologized, "I'm sorry if that blow job gave you the wrong assumption of where tonight was leading."

She reached and did the seat belt, "I'm soaking wet." she again pulled out her nonchalant demeanor, "We can go to my place now." She dropped her folded hands onto her lap and looked forward with a smile.

He grumbled, "Of course." He looked forward, shifted the car into gear then steered in the direction of her shared town house.

The town house door shoved open, Rosangela stumbled inside laughing. She swiftly kicked off her drenched heels, spun around to watch a quite wet Victor Hardway enter. She continued to laugh as she flipped on the foray light.

He wasn't amused. He entered, swung the door closed. His damned precious fedora was soaked. His eyes glared at her as she continued to laugh. He reached and removed the rain weighed fedora. One of his favorites, gray with red silk band.

She tried to ease her laughter as she stepped up to him. She apologized, "I'm sorry you had to park so far away." she offered to take the fedora, "I can throw it in the drier."

His eyes looked at her with surprise. He refused, "No, you can't simply place this," he shook the soaked fedora, "In a drier." he then snapped, "Dry clean only."

She leaned back at his snappiness then shook her head and said, "Jeez, sorry, just thought..."

"No," he repeated then simply hung the fedora on one of the coat rack hooks.

She wrinkled her nose at him, he was being damned bitchy over a hat. She shrugged then spun around and announced, "Well, make yourself at home, Mr. Hardway." she started up the stairs, "I've had a long day and gonna take shower."

His head slowly turned, eyes shifted to followed her trek up the stairs. His lips slowly formed a sly grin.

Rosangela had stripped and entered the Jack and Jill bathroom she shared with one of the absent roommates. She slid back the glass door then twisted on the shower. She heard the bedroom door come open and grinned. She thought, perhaps he was done pouting over his fedora.

She yelled out, "Just do whatever!" She stepped into the shower, slid the door closed.

Victor removed his shirt as he kicked off his shoes. His eyes focused on the semi open door, heard the shower running and her humming. Oh, he thought, he was going to definitely do whatever.

He stepped to the side of her bed, crouched and slid out the suitcase. Remained crouched, he opened the suitcase and eyed the contents. His lips puckered with thought as his mind derived exactly his next step was going to be in Rosangela's unsuspecting direction.

His head tilted as his hand grabbed an unopened box. He pried the box open then removed one of its contents. He then grabbed a couple other items from the suitcase and rose up.

She lathered her hair as she stood just before the shower stream. Her eyes were closed as the conditioner laced water streamed down about her brow and eyes. She continued to hum as she turned around, stepped back and allowed the hot water to rinse the conditioner from her hair.

Her eyes opened and to her surprise, there was a silhouette on the other side of the frosted glass. She grinned then inquired, "Wanna join me?"

The glass door slid open.

She continued to grin as she again faced the shower stream. She commented, "Guess so." Followed by a giggle.

She reached for the sponge, prepared to wash her body but his hands came from behind and grabbed hold of her wrists.

His voice spoke from behind her, "No, allow me."

She shrugged and thought, why the hell not. But he didn't release her wrists, he gathered them behind her then she felt the steel of the handcuffs. She again giggled, that was a first. She commented, "Hmm, well, this is interesting."

Her hand cuffs behind her, he brought his hands against her shoulders then nudged her back against him. He brought his lips to her ear and stated, "Oh, it's not that interesting," he paused with a sly grin, "Yet."

She hummed with approval, her excitement already raised. Her eyes blinked against the steamy moisture within the shower as they watched his hand reach and grab the bottle of body wash from the plastic shelf hung from the shower. Then she watched him pour a good amount of body wash onto the palm of his hand. Her mind easily focused on what it was going to feel like to have his soapy hands lather her body.

She anxiously pressed her lips together, watched him lather his hands. She inhaled, took in the light floral scent of the body wash. She held her breath the moment his hands returned to her shoulders then slicked and massaged against them.

Her eyes closed with focus, his hands worked so slippery across her shoulder blades, down the center of her back then moved along the shape of her ass. She again hummed, loved the sensation of his hands kneading over the roundness of her ass.

He slid his hands forward against her hips, pressed himself against her. He loved the slight brush of her hands against his cock. His lips again found her ear and he explained, "I'm going to make certain you're nice and clean for me."

She bit down on her bottom lip, his left hand slid against her abdomen then moved downward between her thighs. Her grin broadened as she felt his full hand lather the wet hair between her legs. His hand reached further, his fingers worked the soapy lather within the lips of her pussy.

He took his time, lathered every inch of her pussy as his right hand lifted and found the fullness of her tit. Her tit in his hand, he felt every heave of her chest. Her pussy in his hand, he felt every shift of hips. Yet, he was not ready to please her. Not yet ready to fuck her. She said the night before, he was to take his time and that was his mission each and every time.