Harley and Sam - Symbiosis

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.

"Hands on the desk, Harley." I say. You lean forward, palms on the desktop. I stand behind you and unbuckle your belt, take it off and set it on the desk next to you. I unbutton your pants and slide them down with your damp panties. You step out of them and I kick them aside.

I put my cock away and fasten my own pants. This is not a time to be distracted. As I lean into you, you feel my hard cock against your naked ass. You feel my hot breath on your neck, and on your ear. You know what is about to happen. "Do I need to restrain you?" I ask. You shake your head and whisper "no sir."

Softly, I say, "We'll see..." and, picking up your belt, "Let's begin."

Harley:

"Let's begin..."

You wrap the end of the belt around your strong hand and raise it up, bringing it down firm and hard against my ass cheeks. I cry out and shudder, feeling the sting and warmth spreading down my legs. The belt comes down again, hard. I push my face down into the desk, trying not to beg for more. Trying to be good. You deliver more hard slaps to the back of each thigh. I can feel the triangle shape of the end of the belt raising in pink on my skin. Over and over again.

I'll do anything to make you happy. But I can't stand it, and against my better judgement I push my ass back against you, trying to press my swollen clit against your covered cock. I want you inside me. I want bruises on my hips from the force of your thrusting. I grind my soaked pussy against you, moaning, whispering over and over "please, please, please fuck me..."

"Oh no sweet girl, not yet," you tell me. And I know that I've pushed the limit. I've been impatient and urgent, and I haven't learned to be still. You force my legs apart and expertly tie each ankle to the legs of my desk, running your hands roughly up the insides of my thighs.

You push me forward and ask me to spread my ass for you. You want to look at me for a moment. Just gaze. I feel exposed and I can hear your breath catch. You reach between my legs and slap my clit with your open palm, gently at first and then harder until I am gasping and panting and doing everything in my power not to come. You slip two fingers inside me and my pussy convulses against your hand. "More, please," I think. Or maybe I say it out loud. The sounds coming from me are more animal than human and you lean over me, pressing your weight into me from behind. "Didn't I tell you to be quiet? Shhhhh..."

Sam:

"Shhhh..."

You bite your lip, close your eyes and involuntarily grind on my fingers. The look on your face, the smell of your sex, the feel of your body - the sensations are raw, overpowering.

Time is slowing as I begin thrusting two, then three fingers into your pussy. Dropping the belt, I thrust into you with one hand and smack your ass and thighs with the other, your juices dripping from my knuckles. And while I attack your body with thrusts and blows that are more like battle than sex, I struggle to control myself. I want to take you. Now. You still hold your ass open, but I resist. Why?

I stop spanking you and, with my fingers still inside you, I wrap my other hand around your neck and pull your ear to my mouth and ask, "Is this what you need?"

As I squeeze your throat, you softly reply "This...and more."

Overwhelmed, I force your body back down onto the desktop, your legs still secured in place. I again pick up the belt and renew my assault on your ass, your clit, and your legs. I spank harder than before, harder than I mean to. You cry out - not our safe word, but loud enough to give me pause.

Tears are dripping down your cheeks. What have I done? My first job is to keep you safe...have I gone too far? But before I can speak, I see beyond the tears to a hidden, secret smile in your eyes.

We have so many dichotomies. Strength and submission; protection and punishment. I know your defiance is a gift to me, just as my discipline is a gift to you.

Though practically collapsed with fatigue, you again reach back and spread your ass. Always the good girl. Even when I thought I was taking care of your needs; you were taking care of mine. I was giving you discipline, not realizing that you were giving me freedom. Where my vision was blurred, there is clarity. I see what I want, and I take it.

A breath later I am buried in your ass. I fuck you. Hard. Holding nothing back. You meet my thrusts, one hand between your legs as you fuck back at me. If I could think, I'd probably want the moment to last forever.

But in this moment, we aren't thinking. We have no constraints, expectations or even identities. We just are. Tomorrow doesn't matter. There is only now. There is nothing else. We're free.