Inspiration Ch. 09

DISCLAIMER:

All breath play associated with MY erotic writings are not encouraged to be attempted by those without the proper in depth knowledge and education concerning this fetish. Please, caution, precaution, and trustworthy partners are a MUST but most of all...

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EDUCATION IS KEY!

Saturday arrived with a blast of white.

The cab ride to the bookstore was a bit hectic as a thick snowfall blasted the city and started to blanket the streets. Rosangela arrived about fifteen minutes late, nearly slid on her ass a few times trying to get to the bookstore entrance.

Once inside, it was obvious that the day would be a slow one with the weather developed outside. She immediately noticed no Marcella but Al was there, he was always there no matter the weather.

Al looked somewhat anxious as he approached Rosangela who was behind the checkout taking off her snow dusted coat. He announced, "Marcella couldn't make it in due to the weather."

Rosangela looked to her boss then stated, "Yeah, it's getting nasty out there and I'm sorry I'm late." She hung up her coat and started to prep the register.

Al nodded then said, "It's okay, you made it here safe." his nervous eyes looked out the front window, saw the snow steadily coming down, "Not sure if they're gonna make it."

She paused and glanced at her distressed boss then asked, "Have they called?"

Al shook his head, his eyes focused on the dreadful sign of less dollars.

She commented, "Then I'm sure they'll show."

Al nodded then questioned aloud, "But will the customers?"

She looked to the window, saw the thickening mess of white.

Within an hour's time, Bob the agent and his client Victor Hardway showed but as Al feared, the customers were very few for the snow seemed to build.

Rosangela stood behind the checkout with her elbows leaned atop the counter as she stared at the bright white continuing outside the store. There was no traffic with just a slowly passing car here or there. The store was silent with exception to the chit chat in the back from the only three men in the store. She kept herself at the store front, kept her distance from the author.

A few diehard Victor Hardway fans arrived and tracked snow into the store which slightly brightened Al's disappointment.

Rosangela scooted her rear on a tall stool, listened to the flattery being thickly flung at the author. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled with her shoulders drooped. Her eyes constantly glanced at the mini display of the author's latest book, her image staring back her and taunted her to pick up a copy and read it.

Her face grimaced at the beckoning book cover. She was intrigued, wanted to know exactly what tale the author wrote evolved around her and those tantalizing fetishes. She was curious if he managed to slip in her unique fetish within those written words. Would he truly dare introduce his readers to the breath play fetish?

"Rosangela," Al's voice came from no where.

She snapped from her thoughts and glazed stare at the book then looked to her boss who seemed so devastated by the weather and its ability to steal away his money.

Al announced, "We're closing up shop early." He sounded sad.

She nodded then agreed, "Okay," then asked, "When?"

Al checked his watch then replied, "Likely in about an hour." He huffed with annoyance then glared at the weather outside.

She again nodded and agreed, "Sure, no problem." then she slid her rear off the stool and stated, "I'll start restocking."

Al nodded then sighed and left to do his typical closing routine.

She left the check out, the Victor Hardway fan club of three continued on with their flattery and feminine giggles. She started to stroll the aisles, somewhat eyeing the books but more so listened to the continuous chatter mingled with the author's hardy chuckles.

At the end of an aisle, she couldn't resist an urge to take a gander at what was going on over at the author's signing table. She somewhat leaned and peered around the shelving unit to her right.

There he was, casually seated on the edge of the table with the three erotica groupies before him. She noted, he looked damned good wearing her favorite of his fedoras, charcoal gray with the red band.

She watched him lay out the charm which was no tedious task because, well, he was Victor Hardway. Her eyes glanced at the three young ladies, all three were all smiles and persistently giggled up a storm.

She thought to herself, he could easily pick one and be set for the night. Her face slightly grimaced as she added in thought, or all three. She cringed at the thought then leaned back and proceeded to check the aisles.

Nope, no real need to restock for nobody really came and bought anything except for their star author's book January. She retrieved several new books and replaced the bought books on a swivel rack. She paused before placing the final book on the rack. There was a growing temptation to read the book, she's read all his books. Yet, of course, that particular book was different because she was the inspiration.

Her lips twisted side to side then she made the decision to take advantage of her discount and purchase the latest Victor Hardway erotica.

She left the swivel rack and returned to the checkout. Almost sneakily she rang up the book, kept her eyes down in focus to ring it up as quickly as possible. She placed the cash in the till, pushed the drawer closed, then quickly spun around to shove the book into her purse.

"Want me to sign it?" Victor's voice questioned.

Rosangela startled and the book dropped to the floor.

The door chimed and the giddy laughter disappeared into snowy outdoors.

Her head turned and she peered over her shoulder to discover the author of the book she just bought standing all smug on the other side of the checkout. She gave him a sarcastic quick smile then bent down to pick up the book.

He leaned forward against the checkout with an amused slanted grin across his lips. His eyes studied her bent position, her ass looked lovely and curvy painted over by the brilliant red of the dress. He commented, "It would be an honor to sign it for you."

She rose up and shoved the book into her purse.

His eyes scanned her lovely figure enhanced by a quite flattering and well fitted pencil skirt dress accented at the waist by a wide black vinyl belt. He had to slyly compliment, "You look even more inspirational today."

She quietly grumbled in response, "Shut up."

He continued to eye her as she refused to turn around and face him, tried to look busy. He inquired, "Closing early due to the weather, hmm?"

She huffed, annoyed by his persistence to lay his charms out on her as he had with the triplet groupies. She simply stated, "Yes."

He had to ask, "Need a ride?"

Her shoulders slumped and she again huffed. She turned on her heels with both hands planted on her hips. Her eyes narrowed at him and his damned good looking sly grin. She shook her head and snipped, "No, dammit!"

He chuckled then ended his lean against the checkout. He stepped along the checkout, casually tucked his hands into his pants pockets while his eyes remained on her as she continued to glare at him. He commented, "It's pretty nasty out there."

He stepped around the edge of the checkout as she turned to keep a suspicious eye on him. His eyes watched her face him and down they scanned, loved the bright red off the shoulder fit of the dress which nicely brought out the ample shape of her tits.

His eyes lifted and looked into hers then he commented, "I'm betting the cab service won't be catering your needs."

She loudly huffed then nearly growled.

He brought one foot forward then leaned and suggestively stated, "Whatever your needs, allow me to cater to them."

She pointed at the door then commented, "You allowed three very willing women to walk out the door when I'm positive they would've loved to have you cater to their so called needs."

He slowly shook his head, took another step behind the checkout, then disagreed, "No, because in return, they could never cater to mine."

She started to have the feeling of being cornered and wished Al or that Bob guy would come and put an end to the situation. She took a step back, hated the manner he looked at her for it prodded her to take him up on his offer.

Yes, she had needs and knew exactly what his needs were. But, the last time needs were being bet, it hadn't ended the manner in which she had secretly hoped.

She shook her head then denied exactly what he suggested, "We tried that already, Mr. Hardway, and in the end, it didn't work out that well for..." she cleared her throat, "Well, it just didn't work out."

He quickly corrected her, "There was no end."

Her eyes frowned in question to his meaning. Out of what she said he commented on 'in the end' which made no sense to her. She believed it had an end, not one she desired but it was an end. Wasn't it?

She shook her head, blinked away the question then grabbed her purse. She pushed her way passed the author then headed straight for, well, an escape.

Momentarily taken aback by her abrupt departure, again, his expression changed, a seriousness developed. He understood her meaning but in all honesty, only to himself, there was no end.

Though she walked out, he let her walk out, there was never an end. She seemed to never leave the further he delved into creating the painting and book. She continued to thrive in his mind then the moment the book was finished, he realized his need for her had never ended.

He quickly followed, had no care if his agent's suspicions about Rosangela were proven correct.

She shoved here way into the lady's room, the last place she had an orgasm. She slammed the door then locked it. Could she stay hidden in there until the store was to close?

She leaned back against the door, not exactly in the same situation as the day before.

A pounded fist sounded on the door.

She huffed and closed her eyes.

Why was he pursuing her so damned hard?

She shifted on her heels, unlocked the door then swung it open to come face to face with temptation. She awkwardly glanced at him, he was far too quiet. Her eyes frowned with question, didn't understand the seriousness of his expression.

He blinked, his eyes focused on her. With an odd tone, seemingly sincere, he urged, "Allow me to take you home."

Her eyes shifted from him and glanced down the hallway. She again looked to him then asked, "Why?"

The seriousness about his expression didn't fade. Inside he faced the reality of her importance but refused to verbally state it, then he replied, "Why not?"

She took a deep breath then slowly exhaled. Her eyes reluctantly looked into his and her head slowly shifted side to side. How could she set herself up again for another bout of disappointment in herself?

He refused to take no for an answer. If he didn't again get his hands on her and be gifted the wondrous and unique inspiration she plagued him with, he would likely go mad.

He took a step forward and penetrated his eyes down into hers. He wished he could understand the depth of expression within the bright blue of her eyes, pick through and understand each one. Those expressions were so blended that it made it impossible for him to read.

Her breaths heightened, the intensity of determination within his dark eyes raised a type of dysfunctional excitement. He was the predator after all and she was always the prey but the circumstances had switched. She no longer had control of his predator instincts and barely had control of her prey flight instincts. In fact, she sensed she had nearly unconsciously set herself to be trapped.

Again he stepped forward, his hands grabbed the door frame. His eyes burned with deeper penetration within hers, witnessed the distinct flex of her pupils. He listened to the sound of her heightened breaths. In his mind he heard her words from months ago, 'Fuck me how I want to be fucked!'.

Her eyes widened, saw the intense expression over the features of his face heighten the handsomeness. He was always remarkable to look at in all those black and white artful portraits within his books. But face to face, there was nearly not a word to describe how damned glorious he was.

Her heels were nearly glued to the bathroom floor as he took another step forward, his body pushed against hers.

His hands dropped from the door frame, she took a step back. Again, she was heightening her trapped situation, no escape for he blocked the door.

One heel scraped back against the floor as he leaned into her. She knew the moment he worked his way over the bathroom threshold there was nothing to stop an instant explosion of obvious sex. Yet, would that explosion return to an unsettling aftermath?

He took another step forward followed by another which forced her to step backwards.

The purse dropped from one and as the other released the door and it started to close. With a shake of her head she protested, "No." She wasn't going to play naive, knew exactly what he was about to make happen.

The door clicked closed which caused her chest to flutter.

His hand reached back towards the door, his fingers found the lock and with a twist it clicked.

She again protested but weakly, "No."

She said no but what brightened the blue within her wide eyes was a desiring yes. He lifted his hands and brought then gently against the sides of her neck. His eyes held hers, wanted to see the truth as he urged, "Tell me, Rosangela, what transpired in here yesterday that sounded so beautiful, hmm."

A lump built in her throat, she swallowed hard against it. The touch of his hands sent a jolt of sexual electricity which traveled and struck between her thighs.

He leaned and brought his lips against her ear. Deeply he inhaled, took in the soft scent of her subtle floral perfume. He heard her every deep breath and felt the heat breathe against the side of his face.

He whispered with encouragement, "Tell me, please, what I provoked you to do in here."

Her eyes closed, his whispery voice triggered her arousal shooting to another level. There was nothing more stimulating than questions and more so when they were spoken by his heavenly vocals.

As his hands slid down over her exposed collarbones, he dragged his lips very lightly from her ear and down the slope of her neck. The heated flush of her skin felt against his lips.

He gave his assumption of her previous day's actions within those very walls of the bathroom and stated, "You made yourself cum by breathlessness, didn't you?"

Yes she did, that's what she did. She bagged herself for the first time in those several months and provoked herself to cum harder than she had all those previous mediocre times.

She felt a tremble strike her body in response to the slid of his hands against her heaving tits. Her head bobbed and from her a surprising but simple confession, "Yes."

His lips formed a satisfied grin then they grazed back up the slope of her neck and returned against her ear. Intrigued and aroused, he inquired, "How many times have you breathlessly cum throughout these long six months?"

Her head shook and she again surprised herself giving a response, "That was the first."

His grin broadened, sensed immediately that she was unable to breathlessly cum all that time without his assistance. He slyly questioned, "And why is that?"

Her body again trembled, his hands moved down against her hips then slid down against the sides of her thighs. She deeply inhaled, afraid to confess the truth. A slight tense cringe tightened her body, his fingers started to work upward the hem of her dress.

He knew her answer and gave it, "Because you lacked inspiration." he drew her dress hem higher, "You need inspiration and yesterday I gave it to you." then he gave his own confession, "Just as you inspired me. Last night," he heavily breathed, the hem of her dress reached her hips, "Alone with my inspired thoughts of you, I again came."

Why, she screamed in head, why him? Why did every descriptive word that he spoke make her want him? Was it because they weren't the written word but words spoke by his glorious voice and melody?

His head turned and lips grazed along her cheek. The back of his right hand fingers brushed across her thigh and with a twist of his fingers the first garter was undone, her body shuddered. His left hand undid the other front garter then both hands moved to the back of her thighs and with ease both back garters were undone.

He dragged his hands up the back of her thighs then tucked them beneath the gathered dress hem. He buried his hands beneath the waist of her panties then his fingers firmly gripped the underside of her plump ass cheeks. Her body again shuddered.

She felt nearly helpless, her body persistently trembled with each of his actions. And the growth of arousal between her thighs made her further helpless against each of his precise actions.

Her eyes opened and aimed at the vanity sink. The memory of her solo play filled her mind. A visual developed, a fantasy where he was the one who firmly suffocated her with the bag from under the sink.

His lips neared hers as his eyes noticed hers peering to her right. His eyes glanced at the vanity sink then he asked, "Is that where you bagged yourself for the first time in six months?"

She shakily nodded as her breaths steadily grew heavier.

His grin formed that mischievous perk at the left corner as his eyes remained focused with inspiration at the simple vanity sink. His lips motioned against the corner of her mouth as he urged, "Tell me, Rosangela, that you want me to fuck you as you truly desire to be fucked."

Her eyes shifted with slight hesitance then met his eyes. Very slowly her head nodded as she nearly whispered, "I want you to fuck me," she paused, took a deep breath then finished, "Suffocate me while you fuck me."

His grin held firm, he stated, "Give me a bag and I'll do as you desire." His hands slipped from her panties.

She gave a nod then stepped her right. Her breaths were erratic as she moved to the vanity sink.

He shifted on his leather shoes as he undid the buckle of his belt then pulled the belt from belt loops of his trousers. He stepped towards her as she slightly crouched and opened the vanity cabinet. Behind her, he undid the fly and zipper of his trousers and listened to the sound of a plastic bag being removed from a box.

He felt the flinch of his cock as it hardened with anticipation. For months he wanted nothing more than to bring her again into breathless ecstasy.

Her eyes momentarily eyed the bag in her grasp then shifted and looked into the mirror seeing his looming reflection behind her. There was no turning back, her pussy beyond convinced her she couldn't if she wanted to.

His eyes locked with hers within the reflection of her flushed face then he ordered with a calm tone, "Put your hands on the sink." He reached around her and stole the bag from her hand then watched her grip the edges of the sink.

Her eyes locked with his, she listened to the delectable sound of the bag being unraveled. Her eyes flinched wider the moment the bag came into view behind her in the reflection. She deeply inhaled, instinctively knew it would be a time before fresh air would fill her anticipating lungs.

Her eyes watched as he leaned, brought the open bag above her head as one of his hands held his belt. She held that deep breath as she listened and felt the bag be lowered over her head. Her pussy pulsed and was instantly slick.

The bag around her head, he leaned and pressed against her as he worked the looped belt down to the base of her neck, his hard cock prodded against her rear. He gripped the end of the belt and drew it back until the loop tightened and sealed the bag around her neck. The belt held firm, he tugged down her panties with his left hand exposing her lush round rear.