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Oooo…she was going to come any second…ohhhh…ohhhhhh…Then she slowed for a moment, grimacing. If only this collar weren't so tight, she thought to herself. It's really distracting.She hadn't noticed it before, but now the leather collar seemed to be constricting her breathing somewhat—was it because she was so excited? No—now it was definitely getting tighter. Maybe she was kneeling on the leash…She started to turn her head to look, but suddenly the pressure on her throat increased ten-fold, forcing her head upward--and then she realized…someone had taken hold of the leash! Oh god…She started to gasp out loud, but at that instant a large hand clamped itself over her mouth."Shhhhh," was all she heard from behind her.Patti had a moment of blind panic. She wanted to bite the hand that covered her mouth and then scream for help. But after a moment common sense prevailed: if help did come, how would she explain her lack of clothing? Whose story would they believe, the man—and it was. I don't think my dick had ever been so hard in my life, and when she started to slide her bra straps down her shoulders I almost came then and there, but then she suddenly pulled them back up, sat down next to me and said, "Your turn!" with a girlish laugh and that teasing glint in her eyes. I looked at her to see if she was really serious and she just nodded, maintaining eye contact and that irresistible grin.Playing along, I got up and and started doing my best Chippendale's impersonation, but if you've seen the SNL skit, it was much more Chris Farley than Patrick Swayze. I got my foot stuck in my pants and fell into the dresser once or twice but I eventually got my clothes off, leaving me in just a pair of gray boxers with a stain from my precum on the front. Stephanie stood up, eyed me like a cat eyes a mouse, and slowly stood up, reached down and took my cock in her hand through my boxers and began to stroke. As she varied her hand motions, with full length strokes interspersed.
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And then there was Elaine. She didn’t think I was writing for her. She just liked what I wrote, and she said so.I wrote back and thanked her, and that was the beginning of a good dozen or so email exchanges. Which then led to exchanging cellphone numbers with a view just to chatting. Nothing more contemplated. Nothing more desired.A week after the chats began, I found myself out on a Saturday afternoon bike ride, near the neighborhood she said was her home. I decided to call, and found she was going for a walk. We met. She walked. I rode slowly beside her. We talked. We clicked. And when we parted and we kissed. But not on the lips – that was her rule. Never, never on the lips. So we did it like on the continent, as they say. A kiss on each cheek, and then goodbye.The next week (that brings me to the start of my story, where I said I had just met her two weeks before, for those who care about a timeline), it was early Saturday afternoon. I was out in my car, running some errands and.

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