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If one had to offer a quick description of Olivia and Alistair, personal-ad style, it would probably read something like this:

Alistair: 5'11'', sleek chin-length brown hair, smoky iron grey eyes, powerfully built with strong, well-defined facial features, including a most attractive and masculine chiselled jaw that is positively arresting.

Olivia: 5'2'', shoulder length honey blond hair, china blue eyes. Her facial traits are rather sharp, reminiscent of Helen Hunt's, but otherwise she is softly rounded and feminine, built like a fairy.

Reading about them, if you had to pick one of the two as dominant, it would be Alistair, right? Most people would - it's just the way he's built, the aura he gives off, the fact that he holds a high-placed management position in the firm where he works. That, however, would be wrong, though perhaps you saw that one coming. Against all odds, Olivia is the leader, the seductress, the dominatrix in this relationship. Strength and control practically radiate off her in waves, despite her slender build and peach-soft skin. It's in the determined ark of her brows, the careful narrowness of her eyes, the way every move she makes is guarded, studied, even deliberate.

Alistair and Liv get along fine; they respect each other, care for each other, trust each other. Which is probably a good thing when they escape together between the sheets, because otherwise, someone might get hurt. You see, Liv loves being the dominatrix. She loves being in control. Sometimes, she even likes to see her man suffer... Though perhaps not in the way you'd expect.

Liv most definitely gets a thrill from being in charge. She would proudly admit that seeing her tall, handsomely powerful man giving way before her gets her juices flowing like you wouldn't believe. Since she has several fetishes, many elements of kink enter Olivia and Alistair's bedroom life. Olivia likes leather, bondage, feet and - this one's a bit more unusual - seeing men sneeze. Liv has no idea where that last one comes from; she knows it's pretty eclectic, but she loves it just the same. The erotic thrill she derives from seeing a man sneeze has yet to find an equivalent, and thus, she revels in playing around with it.

The couple toy with Liv's "special interests" to add some piquant to their sex life. Some might be wondering, but what of Alistair? What sort of kinky bizarre turn-ons does he possess, if any? Well, asides for that weird thing involving his pet snake Simba and a jar of mayonnaise, Alistair enjoys being dominated and made to serve. More specifically, and conveniently, to be brought low by Liv. She sometimes teases him that it comes from having to be Mr. Big-Important-Pinstripe-Suited-Businessman-In-Charge all day at the office, and funnily enough, he doesn't disagree. Alistair only hopes none of his employees will ever find out about this, or else he'd definitely be in for a double helping of Hell on Toast.


Today is most definitely not one of Olivia's typical boring day at the firm, where she's deluged with paperwork and concentrates unwaveringly on the millions of pending deadlines. It might have been, only interesting distractions keep sneaking in every few minutes, threatening to drive her insane.

Olivia's horny. Not just a little bit excited, not just in the mood, but really, completely, undeniably gagging for it. It's might be something to do with hormones; those few days right before her period are always the worst. She gets incredibly hot and bothered at the drop of a hat during those days, and right now for example, were she not surrounded by colleagues and under strict professional pressures to maintain a cool front, she'd probably shag just about anything she could get her hands around.

Hormones surely have something to do with it, but that's not all. Little Jim (nicknamed thus because even though he is thirty-five, he is all of 5'4''... when he's standing on tiptoe) has been coming down with a cold and sneezing his head off all day. They're not especially strident, but his cubicle is adjacent to Olivia's and she can hear him loud and clear through the partitions. Not having a clear view doesn't bother Liv; she doesn't fancy Jimmy anyway; he's a small rabbit faced bloke that almost goes unnoticed during their staff meetings as he sits unobtrusively still in a corner of the room. Not being able to see him means she can fantasize about whatever (or whoever) she wants, even if this has dire effects on her productivity.

Little Jim's sneezes usually come in doubles, but today it tends to be more triples and foursomes, nicely interspersed, with pleasantly pregnant pauses in between where Liv's excitement has time to wax and wane as she wonders, "will he or won't he"?

For such a small man, Jim has quite a potent sneeze. They're not loud; they're just powerful. She can picture him being bent double by each one, explosive, violent, harsh, wet, increasingly painful as the day wears on and the sneezes scrape his throat raw. He's probably desperate to stop, but that annoying "I'm about to get a cold" tickle won't give him any reprieve and he just keeps on sneezing, to Liv's delight.

Every new onslaught of sneezes is generally announced by one or two harsh gaps coming from the other side of the grey fabric covered partition. They make Liv sit up at attention every time as she holds her breath in anticipation. She's done this more than a dozen times today, and it is beginning to run her ragged. Sod the paperwork! A warm red flush rises prettily to her cheeks yet again as she hears Little Jim winding up close to her, preparing to sneeze powerfully yet again, feeding her desire, fuelling her lust.

"Huh!... Huh-uh!... Hutchoo!"

Liv waits, tense, sitting forward on the very edge of her seat. She knows there will be more. About five seconds go by and Liv hears Jim draw in another breath.


Ordinarily, that might be it, but with Jim's oncoming cold, she knows she's probably going to be treated to at least one more sneeze.

She's not disappointed.

"Huh... Heeattchooo!!!"

This last sneeze is punctuated by a loud, wet sniffle. Liv sits on her seat much the way a cat crouches in front of a mouse hole, waiting for delights to emerge. Her whole body speaks of expectation: "will he do it again, or won't he?"

More often than not, he does sneeze again, but there are enough instances of him failing to sneeze when she expects it to drive Liv mad.

Every time Jim does it, every time he begins those sharp, deep inhalations, Liv stiffens in her seat. At first, it was interest, but now, it's definitely excitement. She can feel the dark half-moon between her legs tingle every time Jim sneezes, a slow, pleasantly warm pulse throbbing down there. Every sneeze brings on a renewed wave of warmth and moisture; Liv knows she's probably sopping wet by now.

Olivia catches herself staring dreamily at her brand new shiny burgundy Staplex Super Stapler ("available in five different colours - will forever change the way you work") and licks her lips. That might be a bit cold, but it would do... If she could just open it up, the shape might be right, if a bit hard, but then again, what if she applied undue pressure? The consequences would be painful, to say the least.

"This is insane," she thinks, pushing her small golden wire-framed Dior glasses back up her straight nose, and tucking a lock of honeyed hair back into the half-hazard bun sitting on top of her head like a misshapen crown. "I am NOT having a wank with a stapler," she mumbles, softly enough for no one else to hear.

Slowly, deliberately, her left hand eases down to her crotch. Liv is wearing a nice little French tailleur, under which she has Calvin Klein tights and underwear from Ann Summer's. The amount she spends on lingerie, it's a shame it's all hidden away under a heavy desk, in an obscure cubicle, where there is absolutely no chance of anyone at the office ever getting a glimpse of it.

Liv smiles, an almost evil smirk, and toys with the waistband of her tights. It would be so easy to slip her fingers under there, and no one would ever know... But to do such a thing at the office? Oh, how impossibly naughty.

As if on cue, Olivia hears Little Jim beginning another windup, announcing another pressing need to sneeze. There's been a long enough pause by now for her to realize it's a whole new series starting, and not just a belated fourth sneeze to top off his previous triptych. Liv's smile broadens.

Her hand delves into the darkness beneath her skirt.

"Huh-uh... Huh!... Heatchooo!"

Poor Jim. A part of Liv feels sorry for him; the man must be feeling fairly awful, what with this constant sneezing. However, the hunger and desire she feels are more powerful, and promptly sweep away any guilt she might have felt at enjoying his misery. Rapidly, she begins to stroke herself, amazed at how open and slick her velvet opening already is.

"Huh!... Huptchoo!"

She pictures him in her mind's eye as she listens to his harsh, wet sneezes. She imagines an irritated look on the small man's tired, rabbit's face, slightly dazed as he finishes one sneeze and awaits the next. These thoughts get Liv even hotter, and she uses the few seconds respite before the next sneeze to caress herself more insistently, rubbing her fingers against the already engorged mound of her clit.

As she does it, she visualises Jim, poised and preparing for the next powerful sneeze. There is probably a tenderness to his small, delicately shaped nose by now; she can almost see the nostrils' pink tinge, the way they flare helplessly as the cold-induced tickle waxes and wanes and Jim gulps in desperate breaths of air before he explodes again,


Liv thinks of the spray that's probably ejected in copious amounts with each of Little Jim's sneezes. They sound so wet, how could there not be? His sneezes, by now, are wet, harsh, insistent and becoming increasingly desperate. Jim's probably wishing he could just pack up his things and go home to bed.

Her fingers swirl ever faster around her clit.


Liv sighs, knowing this is probably the last of the series. She waits a bit, her index finger continuing to brush softly against the scalding knob, but she doesn't hear a sound coming from Jim's side. For the time being, it would seem he's done sneezing.

Liv waits, hoping, straining to hear an indication that Jim's nose is torturing him again. Her fingers are still underneath her skirt, but they're now motionless. She wants to hear him sneeze - she needs it, or she won't reach nirvana. She opens her eyes, feeling the heat of her cheeks, and wonders whether people could guess what she was up to if they were to look at her. Probably not, and besides her cubicle is pretty remote. Come to think of it, the whole office is pretty silent...

Five minutes later, Liv is back at work, thoughts of Little Jim's cold voluntarily temporarily pushed asides. She's gnawing on a yellow pencil's eraser, trying very hard to ignore the hot, eager throbbing between her thighs. Yet no matter how hard she tries, in her state of burning frustration, Liv can't seem to get that incessantly recurring question out of her mind: "will he, or won't he?"

This question, however, is soon answered.

About ten metres away, Liv spots Little Jim. He's got his coat on and is walking towards the exit. Before she can make a move to get up - not that she would know exactly what to do even if she did - Jim reaches the exit. Liv feels her heartbeat slow and her stomach sink; he's leaving the office to go home, to his warm bed, where he probably belongs. How very inconsiderate of him. Now she'll be left alone with piles or work and a roaring fire of desire she won't be able to do anything with.

As the door swings shut behind him, cutting off a chorus of "feel better soon" and "take care" from the well-meaning employees all-around, Liv's well-trained ears pick up a muffled "Hutchoo!" as Jim hurriedly retreats. She savours his parting sneeze and then sighs. There is nothing for Liv to do now except wait... And think of Alistair.


"Why do you always take it out on me whenever you have a rough day at work?" Alistair moans as Liv sets up the leather shackles that will soon restrain him as he lies on the bed.

"Because I know you love it," she replies archly, raising one honey blond eyebrow in a calculating manner.

Liv has indeed had a hard day at work. After everything Little Jim unknowingly put her through, she felt like she was going to explode... and then, when she was about to do just that, the man left. Right in the middle of her attempt at dispelling the overwhelming sexual tension she was practically drowning in, without even once looking back.

"Won't you at least tell me what happened?" Alistair queries as small Liv manoeuvres to get him bound spread-eagled and naked on the bed.

He really is a splendid sight like that, Liv can't help thinking, feeling a shiver of anticipation flow through her. As she tells him of her day's events, Little Jim's burgeoning cold, her failed masturbatory sťance and her ensuing frustration, she lets her eyes roam over his handsome chiselled face, his broad shoulders, his powerful frame and well-developed muscles. His arms look strong and well toned, his chest and stomach composed of perfect planes and ripples, his lightly furred thighs seeming good enough to eat. Then, of course, there is that part of him, still not standing at attention, looking soft and silky as it rests comfortably, appetizingly, on his dark velvet ball sack. It will look a lot more impressive later on, when he and Liv are ready and the fun truly begins.

Alistair's black leather cuffs, which contrast sharply with the white skin of his wrists and ankles, make Liv desire him even more. He is so much bigger than she, his build so much more powerful, and yet here he lies, completely hers, ready and willing to experience whatever she wishes. Olivia revels in the power she has over him; she can't get enough of it. She recounts her day's frustrations in lieu of foreplay and then only looks at him, her lips curving into an almost cruel smile. She licks them hungrily.

"And so," Alistair begins, his voice filled with practiced meekness, "I'm to atone for this man's sins, am I?"

"I think," Liv narrows her eyes, "that's an excellent idea. I've been feeling randy all day, and I've not had any satisfaction."

Olivia begins to fiddle with the buttons of her eighty quid blouse.

"Poor baby."

"I know. But you, Alistair, are going to change that."

She begins to unbutton the blouse, but only exposes her gorgeous milky cleavage and doesn't take it off.

"And I will do this how?" It was his turn to smile.

"You will pick up where Little Jim left off."

She leans over him and kisses his nose softly, then a tad more passionately, her tongue actually dipping into one nostril for a split-second, filling his senses with her sweetness.

"Oh?" for the first time, a note of worry creeps into his voice.

Liv can't tell whether Alistair's anxiety is genuine, but she doesn't really care. In fact, she knows it's probably not - he likes this game, and he's just as much an expert at it as she is. Alistair is hers to do what she will with, and she intends to make the most of it. Tonight, sneezes are what she's hungering for, and sneezes she will get. Moreover, Liv knows exactly how she's going to get them.

"Yes, darling."

"Please tell me how I'm going to do this?"

Of course, Alistair knows the answer full well before Olivia's rose-petal soft lips even part. Liv's appetites are legendary, and he is pretty sure he's been through every kind of game imaginable with regards to her various fetishes. This wouldn't be the first time she asked him to indulge her with some nasal action, and he doesn't mind. In fact, in some twisted way, he finds the whole thing extremely horny: the effect it had on her is thrilling to say the least. Just thinking about this, and watching Liv's lush and curvaceous body beneath her blouse and skirt, imagining what it looks like under its expensive swatches of designer fabric, he starts to get an erection.

Her man's physical reaction definitely isn't lost on Olivia, who lets a pleased smile creep across her sharp and otherwise deadly serious features.

"Darling Alistair, you're going to sneeze for me."

He smiles in return, but that quickly fades. He knows Liv likes it when he protests; for some reason, it makes their games even more fun for her.

"No, Liv, please... I'm not in the mood for that."

"Alistair, you seem to forget that you don't have a choice in the matter."

"But... But I really don't want to sneeze!" he protests again, with just the right amount of pathos injected into his tone.

Liv smiles ruthlessly, showing canines. "Tough."

Alistair tugs at the restraints with his wrists and ankles. Liv has done a good job; he can't loosen them on his own. It would seem that she's right; like it or not, he really doesn't have a choice in the matter!

"I thought," Liv begins in an innocent little girl voice, "that perhaps I'd put on a bit of perfume before we made love, sweetheart."

"What kind of perfume?" Alistair asks, his tone suggesting he dreads the answer he knows is coming.

"It's actually a pretty popular fragrance - I'm sure you've heard of it. Poison, by Christian Dior?"

Alistair responds to Olivia's wide-open eyes and innocent smile with a grimace and a miserable sounding groan.

"Honey, you know how allergic I am to that stuff!" Alistair is all sullenness. "They don't just call it 'Poison' because it's got sultry undertones, they also call it that because it slowly buggers my entire respiratory system."

"Oh, come on. I'm sure you're exaggerating, you big girl's blouse you."

Olivia circles the bed and makes her way towards the dresser table where five little bottles of perfume are neatly aligned. Alistair is actually allergic to most kinds of perfume, but Poison seems to have a particularly potent effect on him. Liv intends to use this knowledge to the best of her ability.

"No, I'm not. Please don't do this Liv; I swear, Poison makes me sneeze my head off! It's terrible!"

That's just what she wants to hear. Pretending that Alistair hasn't spoken, Liv picks up the bottle, uncaps it, and sprays some on her wrists, hair and cleavage. She douses herself with perfume in such abundance that for a few seconds, the thickness of the fragrant mist reminds her of a shower. She feels vaguely sneezy herself, even if she's not the one with allergies - Alistair doesn't stand a chance.

"Please, please don't do this," Alistair begs. "Look, you can go wash it off and we'll start again, okay? We can play another game. Please, just don't make me sneeze!"

Olivia throws him a pleasant smile as she puts the cap back on the bottle. She sets it down and then, thinking the better of it, picks it up again. Perhaps she'll want some more later on.

She grabs the bottle and a nearby box of tissues before slowly making her way towards Alistair, unhurried, rocking her hips sensually with each step as she devours him with her eyes. God, but he is sexy, lying there, his entire body spread wide open, at her mercy, his stiff member jutting straight up as if inviting her to sit down on it. She will, of course, all in good time, but first, she wants to have some fun.

Liv sets the tissues and bottle of Poison on top of the night table next to the bed, almost touching Alistair's strong, outstretched right hand. Not too close though; should he struggle or, better yet, be shaken by a thunderous sneeze, she doesn't want him to make the precious bottle fall and shatter on the wooden floor. It's contents are worth more than gold to her.

"Oh God, how much did you use? You must have put on half a bottle!" Alistair exclaims, discomfited. "Just smelling it, it's like I need to huh- need to sneeze."

Liv sits down, a feral smile stretching across her small, whittled face. It's working.

A look of panic comes across Alistair's face. This time, it's not staged, and Olivia knows it. She watches him struggle against a rising tickle in his nose, and feels a luxurious renewed warmth rush to her nether regions just watching the sneeze form.

"Just what I was hoping to hear. Don't fight it love, that's really the last thing I want you to do."

"Oh God!" he moans, his features contorting dramatically.

"Relax darling," she says a tad evilly. "Just take a deep breath."

Against his will, that's just what Alistair does. And explodes.


"Beautiful," Liv sighs.

She watches him as his smoky grey eyes close. Before it happens though, she notices they're already beginning to water. She's always amazed at the effect Poison has on him. In Alistair's case, the name really is well chosen; the first time she tried it on him, they'd both been surprised by it's potency, and had had hours of pleasure with the impressive volley of cathartic sneezes that had ensued. And Olivia intends for this episode to be just as fun-filled for both of them.

A little suffering on Alistair's part should certainly drive her to ecstasy; he's no sooner recovered from that first sneeze than another harsh "huesshoo!" grips him, making him jerk against the black leather restraints as his powerful frame lurches from the force of the explosion.

"How's your nose?" Liv inquires in her sweetest tone of voice.

Alistair makes a noise that might mean something, but then again, it might just be a groan as he's obviously struggling with a huge allergy-induced tickle in his surprisingly sensitive nose.

"Is it that bad?" she smiles. "Perhaps I should just get closer and give you some TLC to make it all better..."

Alistair opens his mouth, perhaps to ward her away, but all that comes out is another loud "heh-esshuh!" as his whole body is thrown forward once more.

"I knew you'd agree," Liv continues mildly, getting up from the bed. "But first, I think perhaps I ought to undress, don't you reckon?"

His eyes slowly opening after the sneeze and his nostrils flaring possibly in preparation for the next one, Alistair nonetheless nods. Anything to get the Poison doused Olivia away from him for a few seconds so he can get his bearings! As he hears her withdraw from the bed, he blinks rapidly to clear his vision, his eyes beginning to sting faintly in reaction to the perfume. He doesn't want to miss the sight of Liv undressing.

She does it slowly, sensually, keeping her china blue eyes on him at all times. She unbuttons her silky cream blouse and lets it flutter airily to the ground, and then tosses her honeyed locks as she unfastens her lacy white bra. Topless, she gives him a winning smile and a conspiratorial wink. Alistair tries to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace, as the tickling sensation in his strong, straight nose is still quite strong.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm all yours in a minute."

"Great," Alistair manages, and then gulps harshly, momentarily preventing the building sneeze's escape.

Olivia's short beige skirt soon joins her expensive blouse in a heap at her feet, soon followed by the Calvin Klein tights and white lace panties that perfectly match the bra she has just removed. Alistair takes in the sight of her naked and sighs appreciatively. Added to all her other qualities, she really is a beautiful woman, and he is quite happy that they are together.

His thoughts are cut short when the tickle in his nose reaches another apex, forcing a fourth sneeze out of him.


This time, visible spray escapes from his nostrils, putting a lusty glow in the observant Olivia's eyes.

"Oh, that was nice!" she remarks, pausing to look at him. "Love, I just have to tell you, you're gorgeous when you're like this."

"Thanks," Alistair replies as casually as he can, sniffling rather dryly. "So are you."

And she is. Her curves are flatteringly highlighted by the subtle glow of the room's fading light, making her look soft and desirable. Her hair is looking a little bit wild, and her eyes are aglow with excitement. Olivia's cheeks are acquiring a tinge of bedroom flush, and seeing his Goddess like this makes Alistair feel another powerful rush of desire for her in spite of the perfume's effect on him. Even though he knows it'll mean nasal torture, he can't wait for her to be on him, around him, mounting and riding him, using him for her pleasure and hence allowing him some too.

Olivia notices his eager-looking erection, laughs softly, and nears him again. The effect is immediate.


"I," Olivia declares, "want to make fantastic, passionate, mind blowing orgasmic love to you, my sneezy one."

Just what he was hoping to hear.

"How's that beautiful nose of yours holding up?" Olivia inquires, climbing atop him like a lazy panther. "Tickling like crazy?"

Alistair, gritting his teeth against another sneeze, makes an almost super human effort to answer, knowing this will turn her on. "Y-huh... You bet- huh-essshuh!"


She watches his strong features contorting as his breathing hitches and feels heat blooming all over her body. Even though she would love to stretch the fun out for hours, she knows she is already so excited that this will most probably be quick, fast, and utterly explosive. This is probably just as well; she's been feeling frustrated all day, and besides, deep down, she doesn't really want to harm Alistair. She knows an allergy attack won't cause any permanent damage, but she doesn't want to torture him more than necessary. Well, not much more, anyway.

She's already slick, wet and fully open, so she doesn't waste any time in climbing atop him. Just as she positions herself, aligning her velvet opening with his rigid sex, he sneezes again powerfully, driving into her.


She just sits there for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of his penis inside her. He is big; not enough to hurt, but enough to fill her completely. As he sneezes again, another strong "Iessshoo!", she feels his erection spasm inside her and it is wonderful. She waits for him to do it a few times, always watching him closely, the way his nostrils flare uncontrollably as his lip struggles upwards. He furrows his brow in a look of intense concentration as he lets a sneeze go, his head tilting slightly back and then snapping forward, his entire body thrown into it yet retrained by the leather cuffs.

"Huessshoo!... Uh-... Hushhoo!... Hieeshoo!... Huh-huh... Huesshooo!"

She feels the power of it throughout her body but especially there, in that inner core, where the sensations are magnified and spark off tingles of pleasure that grow more and more pronounced with each of Alistair's delicious sneezes. It is unbelievably intense, and before she knows it, Olivia finds herself rocking up and down over Alistair's retrained form, amplifying his spasmic motions with some of her own.

"Oh babe, this is so good," she sighs in abandon, feeling her cheeks becoming even more flushed with pleasure.

Alistair, thanks to Olivia's proximity, her strong scent and his own sexual pleasure, finds it harder to talk then ever. It doesn't much matter; Liv doesn't really want him to engage in profound conversation at the moment, even though having him try to talk through his sneezing fit adds to the fun.

"I know, it's- huh... Hushhooo!... Great. Only muh-huh... My nose is... Hesshooo! *sniff*... tickling so-... so much-hhh-chhoo!..."

He gives it up; his nose is giving him too much trouble. Sometimes, he tries to describe what he is feeling, the way the tickle is torturing him all the way in the back of his nose, waxing and waning but never really leaving, but this time it's just too strong and makes communication nigh impossible. It's such a strong, persistent tickle, and he feels that if he were really to let go, he would just sneeze non-stop, gigantic sneezes that just might blow them both away from the force of them. He would find it difficult to describe, this volcano in his nose threatening to blow sky high, even if he were in any condition to speak. It's just too overwhelming.

He doesn't really understand why Olivia finds it so exciting to see him like this, completely incapacitated in so many ways but especially this one, by his own body's rebellion against a substance that is in essence harmless. What he does like, however, is the effect it has on her. One powerful "huesshoo!" after the other is driving Liv absolutely out of her head with pleasure, and she is now riding him passionately, her head tilted back even as she keeps on looking at the peculiar spectacle he is no doubt presenting her with thanks to this volcanic volley of sneezes. She is so beautiful like that, her golden hair wild, her peach-downed cheeks red, her sweet breath hot and heavy as she is riding closer and closer to her climax. He is thrilled to be able to bring her such ecstasy; even if he didn't enjoy their games, that alone would make it all worth it.

"Oh yes, oh yes," Liv murmurs, feeling her climax approaching.

And then, unexpectedly, she stops.

"Huesshoo!,,, Whah-... What's wrong?... Heh... Hesshuh!" Alistair manages to choke out between sneezes.

"Nothing," she says, her eyes glinting mischievously.

Still sneezing, Alistair follows her gaze to the night table where the bottle of Poison is still placed, seeming to radiate with evil purple light. Immediately, he knows what she is thinking, and his wrists and ankles begin to work furiously against the cuffs. However much he wants to, however, he can't free himself in time.

"Liv... Huesshoo!... My nose is already on fire. No way, don't you d-d-... Heessshoo!... No, don't, I-iessshuh!... I really, really... huh... can't take an-huh-huesshoo!... take anymore, I can't-... Hesshuh!... Really, don't do it, I just can't... my nose is... Hesshoo!"

It's too late. Despite his protestations, Liv has reached over, not dismounting, and grabbed the bottle. Slowly, even as Alistair looks at her pleadingly between sneezes, trying desperately to dissuade her, the vixen uncaps it.

"No!" he begs, and sneezes again, almost pathetically.

"Oh sweetie, it would mean so much to me. And besides, how on earth are you going to stop me?"

In response, Alistair tugs at the restraints, but Liv has shackled him well enough with her practiced expertise that he really can't move his wrists more than a few futile inches. This time, he is serious about not wanting Olivia to apply more perfume, but there's nothing he can do about it. He knows their code word, "twilight", is only to be used in emergencies - and in Liv's mind, a dramatic increase in sneezes will definitely not qualify as an emergency. He knows he's not in any real danger; it's just that he's already sneezing so much...

He continues to struggle and sneeze uselessly as she aims the bottle at his chest, stroking the innocent looking white plastic nozzle with her small fingers, smiling dreamily all the while. Alistair shuts his eyes and tries to hold his breath as finally, she pushes down, and he feels a light spray of mist - not unlike that which has been ejected from his nostrils time and time again since he started sneezing - settle on his chest.

This mist, however, is definitely different. It's Poison. Oh, the irony.

"Come on sweetheart," Liv croons as she places the now-capped bottle back on the night-table, "just relax. Breathe slowly and deeply."

"And sneeze for me," she thinks, though she doesn't say the words out loud.

Alistair is mightily fighting another sneeze. He can feel the sensation building and building, the sneeze roiling at the back of his nose, slowly forcing him to give way and let it out. He presses his lips tightly together as his strong chin trembles, his hands balling into fists which tug tightly against the black restraints that prevent him from escaping. Liv can feel his pelvic muscles and thighs tightening and knows the battle is about to be lost. The force of the sneeze makes Alistair's chest shudder as, despite his best wishes, he draws in a massive ragged breath and tenses to let it escape, a loud, "huuh... hiESSHOO!" that makes Liv bounce atop him.

She is thrilled; that immense sneeze alone was worth her entire day of frustration at the office. It was magnificent; the expression on Alistair's face, priceless. After that sneeze, he pants for breath, taking in the vapours of Poison she has sprayed onto his chest. In quick succession, his expression goes from dazed to weary to panicked before settling on just plain sneezy.

"Bitch," he groans incredulously, his brows lifting into what seems like genuine agony.

"Sometimes," she grants him in a serious tone, beginning to rock atop him once more, waiting for the inevitable.

She doesn't have to wait long.

As Liv's movements quickly regain their former almost frantic pace, Poison wreaks its potent effect on Alistair in a spectacular manner. His already teary grey eyes actually overflow and spill out onto his cheeks, leaving small liquid traces that Liv would stop to lick if she weren't so totally focused on her own pleasure. There will be time for that later - right now, she's more interested in the intense flaring of his nostrils, the jerky movements of his brows, the trembling of his lips and the erotic slackening of his jaw.

"Huhhh... Huh-essh! Esshuh! Esshuh!... Huh-esshoo!... Hesshoo! Esshoo! Esshuh!..."

As he begins to sneeze uncontrollably, his allergies driven to a frenzy, Liv loses control herself. She rides him faster and faster, harder and harder, her pelvis jamming rhythmically into his, loving it every time his hips swerve upwards to meet hers because of a sneeze. She savours every single sneezy spasm of Alistair's sex inside hers, ever rocking motion of his head, every droplet of spray that lands on her skin, which now feels scalding hot.

He's sneezing again and again, with barely a breath or two between each one, strong, powerful, incredibly sexy,

"Huesshuh!... Huh-... Hesshoo!... Hiesshoo!... Heh-hesshoo!... Eshhuh!"

And it's driving her wild.

Alistair tries to stop but he can't seem to manage it. What he'd thought was a strong tickle before seems to have magnified exponentially both from prolonged exposure to the source of his misery and Olivia's devious application of the fragrance on his own chest. No matter which way he turns, he can't escape it; the smell is everywhere, permeating every square inch of his space, driving his nose crazy, making it itch, tickle, and explode time after time.

"Hehhh... Heh-esshoo! Esshoo! Etchoo!... Huh...ESHhuh!... Hesshuh!... Heeeh... Hesshoo! Esshoo! Esshoo!..."

And yet, completely overcome as he is, watching Liv atop him between sneezes, cursing her and loving her at the same time, he marvels at the power he wields over her in his own way. To think that a sneeze, or several as the case may be, could have such dramatic effects on her libido, could drive this otherwise cool and collected woman onto such infinitely rich plateaus of ecstasy. It strikes him, as it has many times before, as being simply amazing.

Olivia isn't aware of anything beyond Alistair's sneezing and her own derived pleasure at this point. With every single one, she grows nearer to her climax. Every incredible twitch of his erection inside her, every hearty "hesshuh!", makes her spine tingle and the heavy warmth in her sex expand. It will only take a few more now...

"Hahhhahhh... Ah-essh! Esssh! Esshuh!... Huh-etchoo!... Hesshoo! Esshuh!... Huesshuh!..."

Alistair knows that look on Liv's face; one of sublime abandonment and elation, reflected in her sparkling blue eyes and apple-red cheeks. He can't stop sneezing and she loves every second of it. He tries his hardest to watch her face, as that is what is most erotic for him in this game, the supreme pleasure he gives her in turn giving him thrills of his own. As he keeps sneezing, he sees her change, closing her eyes for the first time since they began this whole charade. She moans softly, so softly, and her thighs clench tightly around him. Too absorbed in sneezing to really notice the small contractions of her sex around his, he nonetheless knows she has come. Her entire body is tense and she's having trouble maintaining her cadence even though she continues to ride his writhing form.

After what feels like an eternity to him, Alistair sees Olivia open her eyes. She doesn't stop or disembark, as she sometimes does; in fact, she's still rocking atop him, though a bit slower. Through the film of tears that has sprung in his irritated eyes, he notices a new sheen of sweat on her slender form and longs to reach out and touch the few drops that have collected in the hollow between her breasts.

He wants to ask her whether she's finished with him, what she wants to do now, but he is still sneezing every five seconds or so and, unlike her, he hasn't reached satisfaction.

Liv mouths "thank you" and begins to speed up her movement again. The earth shattering orgasm she's just enjoyed was pure, unadulterated bliss, but she wants to get Alistair off as well. Besides, something tells her there's probably another orgasm in her somewhere, aching to get out, and the way things are going today, it shouldn't take too much coaxing.

She keeps shifting up and down, trying hard this time to work her hips in that special way she knows Alistair loves. It's a bit of an awkward twist, but after half a dozen repetitions, she falls into the groove and it becomes natural. The drumming of their flesh as it pounds together, interspersed with Alistair's now diminishing sneezing, provides what Liv thinks is a delicious soundtrack to their incredible sex.

He's progressed to bigger sneezes now, but with more space in between, which allow her full leisure to scan his face between each and gauge his reactions,

"Heh-ESHOO!...... Huh... HUESHOO!......Heh... Heeeh... HIESSHHOO!...... Uhhh... Heh... ETTCHOO!....."

They are loud, almost screamed, but they are very wet and incredibly erotic to her ears. As he continues to sneeze, making a second orgasm dangle ever nearer before her, she amplifies her movement, twisting her hips more, jamming her pelvis tighter against his. She feels Alistair responding, bucking a bit between sneezes and then more so when an explosion takes place. She knows he's as much into it as she is and times her movement accordingly.

And then, instinctively, Liv knows it's time to go for the gold. She can tell by the shaky way he is moving that his orgasm is very near and will occur within the next minute or so. She focuses her attention completely on his sneezing, her pupils so dilated that her eyes momentarily look black instead of blue, taking in her man's now streaming eyes and moistened, reddened nose, the way his nostrils quiver, the way his entire body speaks of being torn between two pressing needs.

"Hhhh.... Huhhh.... HUSHHEOO!.......Eh...  ESSHOOO!....Heh.... Heh-ESSHUUH!..."

She rocks her hips faster and harder, pounding against him, twisting against him, rubbing her flesh against his at precisely the right angle so that her G-spot receives maximum friction.

And then, like a gift from some benevolent and lascivious god, Alistair sneezes one of the harshest, most powerful sneezes Liv has ever heard him deliver, building up to it in a spectacular way with all his features contorting erotically in exactly the right manner. She takes in every detail, her ears straining to absorb every single decibel, as he allows it to escape him, "huh... heh... HEH... HEEHHH... HIIEESSHOOO!"

The way his hips jerk, the way his hardened flesh presses into her - yes, there, oh yes-yes-YES, there, oh GOD, yes - in exactly the right place sends her soaring over the edge for the second time that day. Incredibly, her second climax is even more powerful than the first, making it hard to breathe as it pounds its way out of her, rippling from her sex outwards to touch even her fingertips with its white hot intensity. She rubs against Alistair furiously as she loses herself in it, prolonging the pleasure, prolonging the ecstasy, grinding her sex against his as he keeps on sneezing deliciously...

And then, finally, it is his turn. Between sneezes, Olivia feels him stiffen, even as she is still recovering from a climax so powerful that she wonders how long it will take before she's able to walk again. His entire body thrusts into hers, hips first, as he arches his back. His head tilts into the pillows as it has so many times before, though for different reasons. She sees chords standing out on his neck and this time, she does lean over, and touches them in wonder, for once forgetting how collected she usually is.

Then, his pleasure fades, leaving him weak-kneed in turn, until another sneeze overtakes him, "Huh-ESHOO!"

Knowing their session is over, Alistair looks at Olivia, still crouching above him, mutely pleading with her to let him go.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she murmurs, letting his slowly deflating member escape from her velvet soft confines as she reaches for his wrists.

It takes her all of forty-five seconds to untie him, both his wrists and ankles, which he rubs at whilst still letting out the occasional sneeze. There are red marks there, and the skin under the shackles always itches a bit after he is released.

"Was it good for you?" he asks, sniffling heavily as he reaches for the box of tissues hidden in the uppermost drawer of the night table next to the bed.

"Mm," she nods, slowly, enjoying the luxuriously languorous feeling that still permeates every part of her. "Incredible."

"I'm glad," he says, and touches her chin, drawing near to kiss her.

And then, he leans back again, the same sneezy expression as before stealing along his bold features. Before he can stop it, yet another sneeze escapes him, only this time he makes full use of having the luxury of stifling it.

"Honey, I hope you don't mind, but I ruh-... really... huh-esshuh!... really need a shower."

"I can tell," Liv smiles. "Is your poor nose still driving you crazy?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Alistair groans, getting up and off the bed, taking the soiled tissues with him.

"I wouldn't mind," Olivia purrs behind him.

Alistair doesn't answer, swiftly making his way to the shower as he stifles another sneeze. He's getting a headache now, and decides to pop an antihistamine before he hops under the tap. In all the times Liv has toyed with him and his allergies, never has it been this bad.

He's drawing a glass of cold water to swallow the small white pill in his hand with when he hears the sound of water beginning to flow in the shower stall behind him. Softly, Liv begins to sing, in her endearingly off-key way. He swallows the pill, sets the glass down, stifles another sneeze, turns to see Liv's sexy profile through the steamy portal of the shower, and already he can feel another wave of desire for her blooming in his nether regions.

He smiles to himself and thinks that if he asks her nicely, perhaps this time she'll let him call the shots. He's had more than enough Poison for one day, he reckons, but the leather shackles are still lying on the bed and he quite enjoys seeing Liv at his mercy in those.

He opens the door to the stall and runs one large hand against the hot slick planes of Liv's smooth back, amazed at the beauty of her.

"Come here, you..."