She wheezed. “I came!”

“I’m not finished. Keep going.”

She gasped, a long, excited gasp, and pushed back into
me. I continued to plunge into her roughly, and
tightened the rope around her neck. She began to grunt,
but stayed with it, urging me to make it ever tighter.
She began to wheeze.

“I’m going.”

I tightened the rope more, pulling back as if they were
reins, and she jumped slightly.

“I’m going.”

I thrust in earnest, feeling myself build to the point
of no return. I was about to pull out, when she said,
“I’m gone!”

She went limp on the rope, I pulled out of her and
sprayed on her fine ass. She crumpled onto her arms, and
I quickly loosened the rope from her neck.

I turned her over onto her back, and lifted her head so
she wouldn’t swallow her tongue, then lightly kissed
her. She coughed and wheezed, the color slowly returning
to her face, and looked at me with red eyes that matched
her earlier outfit.

“Is that how I should handle you?”

She smiled grandly. “Oh yes!” She took a big breath, and
I kissed her once more, deeply. She then said, “Just how
much work will it take to get handled like this more
often?”

“Well,” I said, “That depends on how much you like to
cook.”