“Tell me a story,” she’d whisper, her tongue in my ear. Her soft hand on my cock moved as I started to speak. If I paused or slipped, she’d stop, snicker as I groaned.

“Now, now,” she’d say with a Cheshire grin, “you do your job and I do mine.”

I’d start again and so would she. Her eyes glittered in the dark rapt in the story. When the tale was done and I’d coated her hand in my release, she smiled, licked her fingers, and kissed me full on the lips.

“Now, tell me another…”