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Valiantly, she struggled beneath him, her face reddening, her breath raspy, her eyes trying to roll back in her head, her chest heaving futilely, yet being chained to the bedposts, all she could do was writhe between his clamping legs and try to maintain her focus upon his gentle, enraptured smile as he dipped his head downward to kiss her painted lips while maintaining the constant pressure on the ribbon encircling her vulnerable neck.

“Damn, that’s hot!” Gloria gasped under her breath. I just had to smile, feeling her shudder with excitement as she sat in my lap with a hand down the front of her jeans. To add just a little more naughtiness to the moment, I gently squeezed the breast I was cupping, eliciting a faint sigh from her. Admittedly, the scene she had just read aloud from the screen of the laptop was quite enticing for me as well, evidenced by the hardness within my jeans, an arousal which I was absolutely certain she could feel against her.

As he lifted his face away, her eyes lowered – along his chest, down his stomach, ultimately coming to rest upon the object of her ultimate pleasures. She absolutely loved to have him inside her as he choked her or strangled her, and she yearned for it now. “Please” she wheezed, her eyes fixated upon the clear drop ready to fall from his bulbous tip.

He loosened the ribbon slowly, allowing her to obtain more oxygen and dispelling the haze which had seeped into her consciousness. “‘Please’ what?” he countered, purposely making her ask for it despite herself.

She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and relishing the feel of fresh air flowing into her lungs. When she felt the drop befall her at last, it was as if molten lava had just fallen upon her chest, and she gasped despite herself.

Since she did not respond to his question, however, the ribbon was again pulled taut around her neck, tighter than before, and it was likely not a coincidence that the sudden constriction had occurred at that subtle unnoticeable moment between exhale and inhale. Within seconds, she was in a mild panic, struggling anew, pleading with her eyes and her moving lips, pleading for a simple life-assuring breath, pleading for his thick length to rut furiously into her.

Gloria was really squirming upon me, with both my hands toying with her breasts. As she read of the woman in the story being deprived of breath, her own breaths were growing more lustful.

“Remove your hand,” I instructed her in a firm voice, and with a soft mew of protest, she obeyed. “Keep reading,” I added as I lifted her hand to my lips and began to clean the nectar from her fingers.

Just as her lungs were starting to burn, he loosened the ribbon at last, allowing her to take in the air she desperately needed. “‘Please’ what?” he repeated firmly with a noticeable snarl.

Her face was visibly red, and not just from the lack of circulation in her head. “Please… please use me.” Between her inhalations, her voice wavered greatly with need mixed equally with shame. “Take me. Please, fuck me!”

“No!” he insisted, pulling again at the ends of the ribbon as yet another clear drop befell her chest. And on it went, at least a half-dozen times, with her being able to breathe long enough to plead and him denying her and once again taking away the oxygen she so desperately needed. Yet even as she wheezed, even as she fought against her bonds, even as she reddened with shame, even as she cried from the unrealized craving, her naked body felt intensely alive, full of lust for this near-stranger found once again in a crowded bar, her need spilling onto the tattered black-and-blue quilt upon his rickety old bed.

“Oh my God!” Gloria gasped, suddenly leaning forward in my lap, and I used her breasts to haul her back against my chest, shamelessly groping her as if I owned her.

I glanced over my shoulder at the rickety old bed, the quilt and the covers strewn about, the cuffs still attached to the thick silver chains snaking out from the battered wooden bedposts. I could almost see myself again straddling this woman with the piercing green eyes and the bleach-blonde hair, her alabaster chest a stark contrast to my well-tanned thighs and her reddening face, the ends of the wide black ribbon curled around my fists, her lips moving almost futilely.

“Keep reading,” I ordered her as I slipped a hand up her sweatshirt and into her unzipped jeans. The heat within the denim was intense, and the moisture I found inside her panty was almost as passionate as her soft sound of need.

“Please just fuck me!” Gloria pleaded. “Please! Just like last night.”

“Back in the chains as I strangle you?” Before she could answer, I rapidly thrust a pair of fingers inside her, making her squeal and buck against me.

“Yes!” she pleaded breathily. “Please! Anything! Just fuck me!!!”

“Only after you help me write the ending to the story.”

Her groan of frustration was glorious.

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