Brandi walked into my studio and plonked herself down on the couch. It was not
so much a walk as an immediate presence. Brandi is 24 years old, over 6 feet
tall, has long slender legs, well-developed breasts and on this occasion was
dressed in a black, shiny, leather full length coat with calf length,
matching-black boots. I already knew this was how she would dress – it was what
she had told me she’d wear when she wrote to me. Still, the picture of her
beauty far transcended my imagination. I swallowed hard as I recalled what else
she had written. I still had the letter somewhere and the past few days had seen
it read many a time as the delicious reason for her visit had been rehearsed in
my mind over and over.
She sat down, unbuttoned the coat and revealed a skimpy, navy jumper. When
she smiled across the divide to where I was sitting behind my desk, notebook in
hand, I knew she was going to give me a real treat, and so it turned out.
Brandi began by giving me a rundown of her life story. She’d been Convent
educated and boarded there because her parents were diplomats and often
travelled abroad. During term time it would have been too disruptive to take
their teenage daughter with them, so she boarded. Although the Convent was
strict the nuns were mostly fair and the boarders made a good life for
themselves. Indeed, Brandi had formed a couple of special relationships and it
was a result of one of those relationships that her fantasy had begun.
She’d discovered in her late teens that she was more than a little
interested in sex and she had spent much time wondering just how far she could
make her body go. She’d spent much time writing of her fantasies and then, a
few years previously, one of her special friends had shared a similar desire
with her. They had, inevitably, experimented and discovered new things about
their own sexualities. But, for Brandi at least, her own particular fantasy had
gone unfulfilled. This was why she was sat opposite me now – because she wanted
to do something about it. She was in her mid twenties and still looking for the
right guy to fulfil her need. Another friend, also a friend of mine, put her in
touch and after a couple of meetings we’d set up this session for today.
Brandi had written me a very detailed letter about her fantasy and how she
wanted it to be fulfilled. As she rambled on about her life story (all part of
the act) I noticed she was getting more and more agitated. Suddenly she took
the plunge. She’d been opening and closing her legs like a frightened
schoolgirl for several minutes, weighing up the situation, as if anxious that
now she was on the very threshold it might be too much for her. With a
startling change in voice, from casual to hauntingly seductive, she jumped
straight to the point of our meeting.
“You were interested in what I wrote to you about?” She smiled again and
leaned forward seductively. “Do you think you can help me fulfil my fantasy?”
“Yes, very interested, but you can change your mind about talking to me if
you want to.” My cock was already rising at the thought of helping this young,
attractive, woman fulfil the sexual fantasy that had been haunting her for a
decade.
“No point in that. One thing, though, you must do everything that was in
the letter.”
I sat speechless for a moment, as the script demanded, before I responded.
“Well,” I stuttered, “I don’t see why not.”
“Every bit of it,” she looked seriously at me, her big, blue eyes,
fluttering slightly as she did so.
“Okay.”
“Actually, I’ve had some more thoughts on the subject. I thought I’d write
them all down for you. I badly need a pee, so could you read what I’ve written
and then when I come back ask me any questions?”
“Okay.”
She handed me a few pages of paper. They contained more information than
what I already knew from her previous letter, but her insistence that we would
have to enact her fantasy already had me harder than I had been for some time.
This was going to be an afternoon worth remembering.
She was gone for nearly ten minutes. I’d read the pages, rehearsed the
action and made myself ready.
She appeared in the doorway minus her coat and stood there looking at me
with a big grin on her face.
“Have I been naughty, writing that?” She purred as she looked at me.
“I rather think you have. The question is, how realistic do you want
things to be?”
“Very realistic. In fact, you are only going to get to print that story if
things are entirely realistic.”
“Very well. In that case, when exactly did your fantasy begin?”
While Brandi confirmed her desires for bondage began in her late teens,
she came into the room and sat back on the couch. She explained that the
fantasy went unfulfilled until she was nineteen years old. Then, and purely by
chance, she’d been fooling round with a boyfriend.
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