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When Harry Met Sally

They met, a hotel room, his fetish, her pleasure...and a twist
They met in the downstairs bar of the hotel. When Harry met Sally, they were sitting side by side on the high bar stools.

The small talk followed. Stilted at first. Chatting about this and that and a bit of the other. It was late afternoon when they met and as time passed they became more comfortable in each other’s company. Both on business, both alone, both bored, both married, both partners sexually disinclined. Artificial formal conversation turned to relaxed smiles and laughter. Then onto casual touching of arms, backs, knees. The steady stream of alcohol helped, of course. It loosened their coyness and inhibitions. It also helped to remove suit jackets and loosen buttons on blouse and shirt.

They moved after a while, to one of the comfy sofas. Harry wore a dark grey suit and white shirt. Sally wore a black suit with a tight skirt and a yellow blouse. And stockings and suspenders, as Harry noted as Sally flashed a stocking top as she sat down.

As they ate a bar meal each and imbibed more alcohol, the touching became longer and more intimate.

Eventually their sexual frustrations came to the fore and they each bemoaned their lack of shared orgasmic activity. The talk, which had started as innuendo and double entendres, became erotic, then lascivious, then dirty talk whispers.

Harry’s cock had been at full stand for a while, tight within his underwear beneath his trousers. Sally’s pussy had been sodden with her viscous, lubrication flow staining her knickers.

They exchanged fantasies until they could take no more. With another bottle of wine in hand they boarded the lift, bound for her room. Both were highly sexually charged and their mutual libidos were at their heights.

In the short lift journey they exchanged an intense, frenzied embrace and deep kiss; tongues entwined, hands holding the other body tight to them.

Almost instantly, as they closed the room door, they were in another deeply sexual clinch. More a sex battle really, again with hands all over the other’s body.

They finally broke apart and seconds later Harry was naked, whilst Sally retained only her stockings and suspender belt. Harry had said previously that he loved ladies wearing that type of lingerie so Sally played up to that.

Then taking dominant control of the situation, Sally pushed Harry onto the bed so he lay on his back, his hard, swaying, cock pointing to the ceiling. Earlier, as part of their alcoholic session, Harry had confided to Sally that one sex scenario he loved was to have a lady take the initiative and sometimes to be dominated and tied down on a bed.

“So you like being anchored: tied down eh? Dominated by a lady. Perfect,” she said rhetorically, smiling.

Sally reached into the bedside cabinet and pulled out four handcuffs and told him to get into position, spread, star shaped, on the bed. Harry’s eyes opened wide but did as instructed without a word. So Sally wrapped the cuffs around his wrists and ankles and fixed them to the corners of the bedstead. Harry was totally exposed now with his shaft as the main focal point, prominent in its glory and central location.

Then reaching into the cabinet again she took out a small leather, multi-stripped implement.

Harry gasped and Sally sensed his reticence.

“We need a safe word, Harry. If this goes too far and you want to stop, then just say 'Purple' and I will stop. But let us hope,” she leered, “we both enjoy this and you never say it!”

Harry groaned and struggled against the handcuffs that bound him, spread wide, on the bed. He whimpered and moaned but said nothing. He knew the score.

Sally then held the implement, a small whip with many leather straps on it. The handle was about six inches long and the straps about two feet in length. As Harry’s eyes enlarged and he moaned a guttural sound of fear and possibly delight, Sally trailed the straps over his body. For a few minutes she let the straps gently drag over him from toes to top. She teased him, tormented him, played with his enlightened feelings. Sally especially enjoyed lightly tickling his stiff and engorged cock and balls with the implement, letting the tentacles lightly rush all over his appendages of delight.

Then, without warning, Sally lifted the tool of torture and slapped it down on his thighs. As the slap hit him, Harry twisted and squirmed, trying to, obviously unsuccessfully, avoid the blow. He screamed inwardly as the pain hit him. Red wheals spread over his skin from the thrash he had received.

Sally smiled and resumed her soft, gentle, body teasing with the leather tips of the whip. For a while more she teased him, giving him relief and gentle pleasure. But once again, after a few minutes, she raised the implement and brought it down this time, on his chest. The ‘swoosh’ and ‘thwack’ sounds were followed by another muffled, anguished, groan of pain from Harry.

Again she resumed the gently trailing of the soft leather all over his body for a while. But this time it was for a shorter period and Harry sensed what was coming. Two blows this time, on his stomach and thighs, just missing his pulsing, hard cock and full balls.

Again Sally resumed the gentle trail of the lash tips over Harry’s reddening body. Whilst he relaxed during these times, by now he realised what was imminent. And she didn’t disappoint. Four lashes with the whip diagonally across his body, the fourth peppering his ball sac. His writhing became more frantic, his moans became louder, and his attempts to gain release became futile.

The gentle times became shorter and the ‘punishment’ time became longer. As Harry lay there, saying nothing, spread naked and wide open on the bed, Sally towered over him. Her almost nude body seemed to glisten with excitement and the power she had over him. Occasionally, after a few thrashes, she would reach down and caress his balls or take hold of his throbbing cock and slowly masturbate him. She seemed to draw the pre-cum from his cock tubes as she stroked him, watching it flow freely from his little slit.

“You wanted this, Harry. It’s what you enjoy. Being dominated. Being whipped. Pain and pleasure combined.” Sally was the (semi) naked flagellator!

Her flogging of his whole body continued. Gentle trailing stopped and a steady rhythm of straps flaying his body ensued. Lash after painful lash of his already red skin continued, leaving only his head and cock unmarked. Sweat of fear and his mixed emotions of pain and pleasure poured off his exposed body, exposed for her sadistic pleasure. Sally’s own bare body also shone with sweat. But this was sweat borne by exertions as she delivered the beating.

She stood beside him but circled around the bed to share the whipping out. At the bottom of the bed, or at each side, she raised the whip and brought it down on him. Lash after lash. Harry twisted and writhed in pleasure and pain. As he strained, groans of anguish were trapped in his throat. He watched as her superbly naked form stood beside him but as his cock pulsed and throbbed, he couldn’t do anything to that smooth, female body. He wanted to kiss her, to devour and pay homage to those wonderful twin orbs and to slide his vibrating, weeping cock past those genital lips, deep into that cunt of hers. And he wanted to do so roughly; hard and fast.

Harry’s skin was a deep red all over. Whipped to the point where his pleasure was heading to pain. His predilection for masochistic tendencies and this fetish, had reached its nadir. Spread wide, arms and legs stretched out, his cock so big and pulsing.

Sally knew that Harry was ready. She threw the whip to one side and gently palmed his genital twin globes as if to sweetly cradle his sacs full of sperm. It was as if pain now over, tenderness took control. She massaged his eggs tenderly as if caring for the contents within. As Harry lay still she saw more pre-cum ooze from his cock slit and dribble down his cock shaft. Certainly his 7 inches were enjoying this tenderness.

She moved her hand and took hold of his pole. With her index finger she rubbed his sweet spot and smeared the weeping, viscous, lube all over his exposed glans. Seeing his purple pal nice and smooth and shiny with his minor discharges, she started to lightly stroke his cock up and down a few times. Harry’s moans of delight filled her ears. Up and down she played with him, teasing more clear lube from him. And then she looked him in the eyes and dipped her head towards his solid rod.

Sticking out her tongue, and with the tip of it, she proceeded to spend the next few minutes lightly tracing the pre-cum all over his engorged, and full, cock shaft and mushroom head. She occasionally licked her lips, as she missed no part of his 7 inches with her tongue tip.

This was the real torture. Forget the lashings, this was real basic sexual anguish. Harry wanted her to either stroke him to conclusion or place his meat deep in her mouth. Or better still, in her pussy or ass. Not just tease him. He wanted release, to cum, and quickly. But she wanted to edge him just short of it. For a good while, she ‘tortured’ him with gentleness.

Then, without warning she sat up and climbed on the bed, and then on her knees, straddling his groin as she did so. She faced him, upright, and hovered her pussy over his cock tip, together touching. She was in no need of his penile lubrication as she was drenched with her own anticipation juices. Holding Harry’s cock, Sally lowered herself onto it, feeling his warm, solid manhood slide effortlessly into her genital cavity and filling her inner self. Leaning slightly forward, she held his chest and stared into his eyes.

Leisurely at first, she started bouncing up and down on his rod; his length slid its full distance in and out of the gap between her thighs. Up and down she sprang and, whilst he was enjoying the sensation, she was clearly using that portion of him for her own pleasure. She rode him rodeo cowgirl style, springing from her knees. Her body beauty was such a turn on as he watched her at work. Her ample breasts bounced up and down as she rebounded on him, adding to his desires. He wanted so much to devour her oscillating twin orbs.

She picked up the pace. Sometimes she leant forward to facilitate her clit getting some action He tried to raise his hips to gain further entry into her cavern but he could get no more of his cock into her. She was using his full length as she bottomed on his cock. They both felt the sensations that the inner friction was giving to their so sensitive genitalia. His cock head, her clit. His frenulum, her g-spot. Up and down, in and out, she kept the steady rhythmic fucking going, building to their climax. And it was to be a joint climax.

They both wanted this act to last for hours but at the same time, both wanted the sensation and feel of orgasm as soon as possible. Both knew this copulation was full of foreplay and sexual anticipation so they recognised it could only last a few minutes. And so it did.

Both screamed together, both spasmed and shuddered in unison, both felt his warm, thick, creamy seed shoot from his cock slit deep within her. Both bodies stiffened and trembled as the orgasmic waves hit them. In a sexual world of joy, both came. Harry stiffened a number of times shooting his cum; Sally's muscles tensed, washed with seizures of pleasure. Both imagined globules and ropes of his seed spitting into her dark pleasure / breeding cavity. Discharged and flowing, forcing his cock into her as far as it could go.

Maybe one minute’s worth of deep, overwhelming joy. His seed subterraneanly within her.

The minute over, she collapsed forward onto him, staying in place until his cock reluctantly, shrunken, fell from its natural home.

Their breathing returned to normal. Sally looked at Harry and smiled. She leant across and reached into the adjacent bedside drawer, withdrew the metal object and sat back up on him.

Harry’s eyes widened in horror, and his scream stuck in his throat, as she pointed the gun at his head. “I’ve used you Harry,” she announced. “I’ve got your seed deep within me. I can breed now. I will breed now. I can produce offspring. You are no longer of use to me.”

In the silence, the small sound of the trigger release being loosened boomed and echoed.

Then Harry screamed as best he could as three gunshots rang out, each swiftly following the other. Loud in the enclosed room, their recoil vibrated around as Sally cackled in joy at what she had done.

Just then the door opened. “CUT, CUT, CUT!” a guy shrieked as the film director entered the room. “Perfect, brilliant. Fantastic work Sally.”

He turned. “Hey Harry. I’m sorry if that scared you witless, but we needed the authentic reaction when you thought you were going to die. You see Harry, Sally’s nickname in the film is 'The Black Widow'. Female spiders of this species kill their male after mating.”

___

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