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Brandy Ch. 01

By: JenniferGreen



My name is Brandy Wells, and this is my story. 

I'm 32 years old, of mixed race, and have always loved and been loved by men and women both. I have never had to work much, and I suppose you could say the closest description of my occupation would be a professional student. 

I was raised by loving and permissive parents, an only child. My father was a talented black jazz musician, a very successful studio musician and had steady work, although we were not wealthy by any means, and my mother was a white artist who would occasionally get her work shown in galleries. She was a wonderfully free spirited woman who basically let me raise myself, as long as I kept out of trouble and my grades in school were decent. I found it easy to do that, as school came very easily for me, and except for the occasional overzealous classmate who would ring me up constantly, and the girlfriend who would turn jealous and start rumors about me, my school days were happy ones. 

We lived in Notting Hill, England from the time I was 10 until my senior year of high school, and when I was there, although I attracted a lot of attention from men, boys and the occasional besotted woman, I basically focused my time on getting good grades and reading, one of my favorite pastimes. I also loved music and dance, and became quite proficient at both, which were wonderful outlets.

My parent would give me lessons in anything I wanted, and I studied piano and modern dance, with the occasional ballet class thrown in, although I found ballet to be too confining and soon switched to modern and jazz dance studies. 

They were also quite the non-conformists, very liberal and had frequent parties in their home, which was often filled with other artists and musicians, and it was a happy one. Although I had many admirers when I was in school, up until the age of 18 I would ignore them, focusing more on my studies, music, reading and dance because I loved them so much. However, when I was 18 one of my father's friends seduced me at a party at my parents house. 

By that time I was told by friends that I was quite stunning, with long, thick brown hair, blue eyes, and mocha colored skin. I was tall and slender, and had a beautiful body, and was often stopped by strangers on the street who would tell me how attractive I was. I was even given cards by several agents for modeling jobs, that sort of thing, but I didn't want to pursue this, all I was interested in at the time was school and my reading and dancing. 

However, at this particular party, since I had just turned 18, I decided to let loose a little. I had some champagne, my parents would allow it as long as I didn't overindulge, and one of their friends, an older drummer, started talking to me about music and dance. He worked for one of the local dance companies occasionally and we had a lot in common as I had heard of that company and it was quite well-respected.

We spent the time at the party together, and he gave me his phone number and asked if he could call me. In England where we lived, the Age of Consent in is 16, so I thought it was high time I found a lover and he came along at just the right moment. 

His name was Brian, and he was tall, black, and very handsome. He had an ex-wife and one younger child, and he even offered to let me babysit him, although for some reason I never did. In England divorced couples get along usually much better than they do in the states here, so there was no problem for us to start dating, although I?m sure we raised a few eyebrows among my parents more conservative friends. 

He called me the day after the party and asked if I would like to go out to dinner. I said yes, and we went to an Indian restaurant. We talked and laughed, and he let me have some wine, although he wouldn't let me get too tipsy. He asked me afterwards if I would like to go back to his place for a nightcap, and I said yes. 

I was very attracted to him, and we really enjoyed each other's company. He took the time to get to know me, and made me feel very grown up, as he was in his thirties and I was still quite young and still a virgin. 

When we got back to his place, he put on a jazz tape of some music that he was working on. We also had some more wine, and the music was strange and interesting and I loved it. I asked him if I could dance for him, and he said sure, and he watched me dance with a strange look on his face.

After a few songs, I asked him what was wrong and he said something very strange for a 18 year old virgin to hear. 

He said that he had gotten divorced from his wife because he thought he was gay, and hadn't been attracted to women after he met her until he met me. I was so innocent, and didn't know quite what to make of this. He said he was hesitant to get involved with me, as he wanted to explore the gay lifestyle, and he supposed since he did feel so drawn to me, he was actually bisexual. 

I said I didn't care what you are, but if you don't kiss me soon I'm going to scream! With that he laughed, put his wine down and came over to me, and hugged me gently. I reached up and held his face, and he looked down at me, and smiled into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Then he gave me a romantic, lovely kiss, which was one of the most soulful kisses I have ever received, before or since. It lasted several minutes, and I didn't want it to end. Sometimes kissing can be more intense than doing anything else, you know? So after that, he asked me if I would like to make love. I said yes and we went to his bedroom. He left the music playing and I brought my wine glass with me, and he said he had had a snip so I wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant. He held me gently, and slowly and romantically undressed me, kissing me gently as he did, and telling me softly how beautiful I was. I began to get very turned on and rather impatient frankly for him to hurry up, but he told me that I should just relax and let my feelings build. 

He soon had me on his bed, completely undressed, and I was breathing hard and longing for his touch. He just watched me for a while, and then stepped quickly out of his clothes. I could see his cock, which was large, long, thin and erect, and although it seemed a bit imposing at the time, he said not to worry, he would be gentle, and he was. 

He slowly kissed me and then touched and kissed my breasts, and then between my legs. He asked me to open them, and he slowly and lovingly caressed and kissed between them, and I had feelings that I never felt before as his fingers and tongue explored me there. He got me very wet and ready, and then started to enter me with his long, hard cock. It was a bit difficult at first, but he put some lotion on and just told me to breathe, and he was soon inside of me and started to move gently and slowly. At first it was very tight, and I was a bit afraid, and he told me just to relax. I did, and soon caught up with his rhythm, and we began to make love in earnest. It was really one of the most exhilarating feelings of my life. Now I saw what everyone was bonkers about, and I decided right then and there to change my ways and make love every chance I got. 

After a few minutes, we started to get really close, and he stopped, and said he wanted to take his time. He said I should turn over, and he entered me from the rear, which I found quite thrilling. After awhile, he asked me to sit up, and I did, and he laid under me as he gently guided his cock inside me as I sat atop of him. I could see everything that was going on, and he caressed my full breasts and kissed me as his cock impaled me fully, and we both soon came to a shattering conclusion that was one of the most moving moments of my life.

Afterward, he held me, and asked if there was anything he could do for me, and I said no but could we do that again soon? He laughed and said anytime you wish, and we started going out for about six months.

As I was still in school and living at home, we had to be somewhat discreet, but I would often spend the night at his house, and while I suspected my parents knew what was going on, they never said anything, as they had known Brian for years and respected him. The only one that was a bit miffed was his ex-wife, when she found out I heard she threw a bloody fit, as he had told her he was gay, but I guess that was not the whole story.

Anyway, we went out until I was finished at school and had to go away to college. I wanted to go to college in the states, as my father got a good job at a music recording studio there, which was steady work. We moved to LA and found a place to live in Brentwood, which is a nice area and I started going to a small liberal arts college nearby in the Los Angeles area. 

At the college I went to, you had to either live on campus or get a place of your own. I decided I hated dorm life after one semester so I found a small apartment of my own near the campus. My parents helped me set it up, and then pretty much left me on my own, bless them. I missed Brian terribly at first, but we kept in touch, and I was soon busy with my studies anyway and meeting new people on campus. 

I majored in dance with an education minor, figuring I could teach dance someday if I need the money, and soon was very happy with my classes and new friends I was making. Brian and I kept in touch over the Internet and Skype though, and he missed me very much, although I've since heard he's moved on and says that he's mostly gay after all. 

When I was at school, there was a dance teacher who was very interested in me. I had just turned 19, and had taken several classes with her. When the last class was over, she invited a bunch of us to her house for a small party. She lived alone with several cats, which were beautiful animals, and she said she was working on a modern dance piece based on the cats movements, along with several other pieces. When the party was winding down, she asked if she could speak to me for a moment. I said yes, and went over to her in her kitchen, where she was clearing up.

I helped her clean up and then she and I sat down in her living room. There was a fire going, and it was quite cozy, and the others had left by then. She asked me about my plans for college, and what I wanted to do, and we talked for a while, and then she asked if I had a boyfriend.

I told her about Brian, how I missed him but didn't have anyone at the moment. She asked if I had ever been with a woman. I said, no, but wasn't against it, as my parent raised me to respect everyone equally, no matter what their religion or lifestyle was. She smiled and said would you like it if I kissed you. I said yes, and she gently leaned over and did so. As her class was over, I didn't have to worry about any conflict there, and she gave me a very gentle, sweet kiss, that was quite different from Brian's more masculine face and lips. She kissed me deeply, and tenderly, and we clung to each other, and she asked me if I wanted to be with her. I said I needed to think about it for a bit, so she gave me her home number and said to call her if I was interested. 

I took the number and soon left, a bit perplexed. As I drove my little car back to my place, I wondered if I were bisexual. I had usually been attracted to men, but she seemed very interesting to me, and I decided to explore it and see what happened. So I called her the next afternoon and told her yes I would like to see her. She said great and told me she would call soon and get in touch.

The next day she called me after school. I was home studying and doing laundry, and she said she would like me to come over for dinner that Friday. I said that would be great, and asked if I could bring anything. She said bring dessert if I wanted to, and I picked up a nice tart from the bakery the next Friday and headed to her place. She made a delicious dinner, and we had wine and talked about school and dancing, and then she said do you want to stay over? I said sure, not really knowing what I was getting into. However she proved to be the perfect lover for me, very gentle, yet strong when she needed to be, and I found that I enjoyed her lovemaking as much as I did Brian's. Hers was much more subtle and gentle though, and to this day I seem to attract both men and women easily. And since that first time with Brian, I have vowed to enjoy everything good that comes into my life, no matter how unconventional or out of the ordinary it may be. I've had a very pleasurable, enjoyable life, and I will be sharing more of my adventures in upcoming chapters.

Brandy Ch. 01-02



Introduction

As I have said in recounting several other of my 'sexual adventures', there have been all sorts of people living in and visiting the building in the time I have been here - and there are plenty of stories to be told about them, even the ones that I haven't been involved with personally - sexually I mean!

One of them I met just the once, and only for a couple of minutes - but he's not the subject of this story - the girl I rescued from his attempted rape is!

Brandy. Prior to that eventful few minutes I didn't even know that she had moved in to the place and as I do most of my work at home I usually know when people move in or out. But Louise and her daughter, Tricia, who had lived in the flat before, simply vanished one day and Brandy had replaced them without my even being aware of it.

I had been woken by screams echoing up the alleyway at the back of the flats. Thinking Louise still lived there and knowing it wasn't her voice, I didn't know which flat the sounds had come from. Sue was sleeping soundly so I didn't disturb her as I got up, pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt then went cautiously down the stairs to investigate. I did notice that Louise's door wasn't properly closed, thought that strange but again, because I didn't know she had moved out and I knew it wasn't her voice that I had heard, I still went to listen at the doors of the other flats first. Nothing!

Then, from what I still thought of as Louise's flat, I heard a scuffling sound and finally went over to that door - and pushed it open. I must have looked as bewildered to her as she seemed strange to me - there was a girl in the hallway and, apart from the robe she was clutching to herself, she was stark naked!

Seeing me she screamed again and I recognised the voice as the one that had woken me. She was obviously terrified - her eyes staring wildly - and, though the circumstances didn't allow me a chance to get a really good look at her, what I could see of her body made me wish I could!

Just then, out of the lounge room came another stranger, a man - also naked, he was carrying what were obviously his clothes and - what was left of an erection.

Seeing him, the girl managed to find her voice.

'Please - help me! He was going to rape me!'

I didn't stop to wonder who they were, what was actually going on or what my chances were - I'm no fighter - I just flew at him. He was an older guy and having to hang on to his clothes put him at a disadvantage, that and of course the fact that he was totally unprepared for someone coming to the girl's rescue so unexpectedly. 

Anyway, after a few lucky hits he decided to call it quits, slipped past me and ran out of the door, downstairs and out into the night. By then my adrenaline was really pumping and I would have taken off after him but the girl restrained me and later, wouldn't even let me call the cops, which seemed a bit strange at the time.

I stayed with her for a while, we had a cup of coffee together in her kitchen and she told me at least some of what had happened. When I thought that she had calmed down and had herself under control again I excused myself and went back up to bed, finding Sue still sound asleep, she hadn't even noticed my half hour or so's absence.

I was in the middle of getting my lunch ready the following day and starting to put my thoughts together for the article I was planning to write that afternoon, when I was interrupted by frantic knocking on the front door. When I opened it Brandy rushed inside, obviously very upset again and a bit out of breath from running up the stairs.

'I'm sorry John - sorry! I just didn't know anyone else. I think he's back!'

I knew who she meant of course and my first reaction was to go straight downstairs. But, like the previous evening she held me back, taking a minute or two to catch her breath before she continued.

'No, no - I think it might be all right - I actually think he might be moving!'

We went through to the lounge room, that overlooks the street and she pointed down at a removal van parked outside, into which some men were already loading furniture.

'Have you actually seen him?' I asked.

'No I haven't. I heard noises, saw his door open, the men moving about - and just panicked.

We watched as men came and went and after a while, when neither of us had spotted him, I went down and talked to them, finding out that they had just been given the key and instructions to move those things that they had listed as being his, out. When I gave Brandy the news she relaxed a bit but was still nervous that he might in fact put in an appearance during the removal, so I suggested that she stay and have some lunch with me, giving the men time to finish the job and go.

'It's only soup and rolls, I don't like a heavy lunch, I get sleepy afterwards and that makes it hard to work. But you're very welcome - I'd enjoy your company'

'You work at home? What do you do?'

'I write, free-lance - articles, short stories, advertising copy. It all depends on what's available some times.'

'But you want to write a novel someday - right?'

'I suppose so - one day - but it's not a driving ambition. Actually I prefer short story writing. Anyway, what about lunch?'

She agreed and brightened visibly as together we got the things ready. I admit I enjoyed watching her move around, she not only had a really great body, even her ordinary jeans and the loose-fitting top couldn't disguise that - but it was the way she moved, a bit like a dancer, conscious of her body, graceful and it was a pleasure just watching her do simple things and I found, pleasantly stimulating too!

We ate in silence for a while but then she re-opened the subject of my writing.

'What sort of short stories do you write?' 

'A mixture of things. I like science fiction, stories with a bit of a twist to them, various subjects.' I thought for a moment or two. 'But I suppose there's a common theme in all the stuff I do - people. What makes them 'tick', what drives them? You know - human nature.'

'Human nature! I could tell you a bit about human nature - men's anyway!'

'You've known a few have you Brandy?' I asked with a grin.

It was an innocent turn of phrase, rather than a serious question - and I certainly didn't expect the answer she gave me.

She sat there for a few moments, looking at me across the spoonful of soup she had poised to eat, then a slight smile crinkled the corners of her mouth.

'A few? Hundreds!' When I didn't immediately respond she added. 'You don't think I'm serious do you?'

I still didn't know what to say, so said nothing.

'I'm an escort girl. Have been for the last few years. I've been with hundreds of men. Not that I've been to bed with all of them, not by a long way - I'm choosy about who I sleep with - but I have, with enough of them to know what I'm talking about. Men's 'human nature' I mean!'

I was stunned by her - what should I call it? Statement? Outburst? Confession? I simply had no idea what to say, how to respond. But most of all, I just couldn't connect what she had said with the gorgeous, sensual girl sitting opposite me.

When I did eventually recover my wits we began to talk and she ended up doing so for most of the rest of that afternoon. I grabbed my tape recorder very early on, realising that trying to remember it all or even take notes would be a complete waste of time and that was just as well because once she got going the stories just bubbled out of her.

It was only later, when I replayed the tapes that I realised that one of my ideas about her initial comment may have been closer to the truth than I suspected. A 'confession'!

Who else I thought, could she unload to? All those years of having nobody with whom she could share her experiences, experiences that were exciting, unpleasant, horrific, simply funny or - whatever.

We met several more times and I ended up with plenty to choose from, some of the more interesting of which I've put into my own words. Later there were more 'personal' experiences with that gorgeous and, as I discovered, very sexy lady... but, as they say, that's another story.



Chapter 1

BENNIE

'Human nature' - men's human nature!

Aggressive, greedy, violent, power-hungry!

How's that for starters?

Don't get me wrong - I'm no radical, lesbian feminist - but I do know men - and they can be nasty. Also of course very loving, generous, practical and, terrific in an emergency, most of them anyway. So, just like women there are good and bad. It's just that the 'bad' side of men is usually much more obviously aggressive - and can be a lot more dangerous too!

Take Bennie for instance. He wanted something - me actually. Plenty of women fancy a particular man at some time and set out to 'get' him - but I can't imagine any woman going about it in the way Bennie tried to 'get' me and I think he's a good example of one type of men's 'human nature'.

It was a business function, the usual kind of thing, party night for the boys after two or three days of conferencing and seminaring, or whatever they do at business meetings.

I guess the boss thought 'the boys have sung for their supper, now we'd better let them blow off a bit of steam'.

They were all staying at one of the big hotels and had their dinner in the banqueting room, along with plenty of booze and speeches to go with it I expect. The boss was staying in a suite, had a group of his key men join him there afterwards - and had arranged for some girls to come in for them!

I don't work through an agency, I prefer to stick to my regular clients if I can but I do have friends that do and when they get a bulk booking like that, they sometimes call me to see if I'm free and interested. Usually I say 'no' - I'm just not keen on group gropes, which is what that kind of thing usually turns into - but it was a quiet week, the cash always comes in handy and I thought, you never know, I might get a regular client out of it. So I agreed.

I met the other girls in the cocktail bar and then we all went up to the suite together. I rarely drink when I'm working, other than one or two to be sociable - you need to keep a clear head and your wits about you in my line of business.

The hardest part of these group affairs is sometimes the early part, sorting out who is going with whom and when - there's often one guy who gets the hots for a particular girl and thinks he's going to miss out. But this time everything seemed to be going fine, we met the guys, chatted and played around a bit and then quite quickly started pairing off - I guess within half an hour or so most of the girls were off in various guys' rooms, being screwed by one or more of them.

I really thought it must have been my lucky day, the guy who had latched on to me was a real sweetie. 'Mac' he told me his name was - men hardly ever give you their real name, I don't know why, perhaps they think we might hassle them later but girls like me are too busy moving on to tomorrow's client to worry about things like that.

Anyway, Mac was nice - early forties, fit and well built - everywhere - as I was to soon find out! He spoke nicely, was very polite and seemed to genuinely enjoy my company. In fact, after he had taken me back to his room, we actually sat, drinking coffee and just talking for a long time. That made me feel good and when later it became obvious he did want to go to bed with me - he got a far better reaction from me than would a guy who had just closed the door and started screwing, as many men do.

At those kinds of bookings it's usual for the guys to either make groups, maybe two or three with one particular girl, or, if there are enough girls to go around, to head off as couples. I certainly wouldn't get involved in any of the 'el cheapo' bookings, where two or three girls take on how ever many men there are at the place. Even though most men tire more easily than they think they will, especially at the end of a working day and after a bout of drinking, the thought of being screwed by as many men, as many times as they can manage, is just not my style.

So, I expected Mac and I to be together for as long as he wanted me around, or when the time that had been paid for ran out - and I would have honestly enjoyed that - as I said, he was nice, well-built and turned out to be a good lover, considerate as well as thorough, if you know what I mean!

Well, we had been chatting away over our coffee for quite some time, when I noticed the look in his eyes changing and I recognised that he was becoming aroused. That's always a nice feeling, not only because of course that's the reason why you are there - but also, as a woman, knowing that the trouble you have taken to make yourself look attractive, is working. Mind you, any girl cheats a bit too, if she knows what she's doing - occasionally leaning forwards as you talk, so he can get a good look down your cleavage - shifting your legs, crossing and uncrossing them, showing off a bit of thigh. Those kinds of things usually work - and it was becoming obvious to me that they had with Mac!

Seeing that look, I leaned closer and said quietly - 'Would you like me to get some of these things off Mac?'

Considering I wasn't wearing too much under my cocktail dress the question itself was a bit silly - but he knew what I meant.

'That would be nice.' he answered gruffly.

'So long as you do too.' I added - trying to give him the message that I wanted him, which in a funny way I was actually starting to.

I got up and went into my slow strip - which is guarantied to turn on anything except a marble statue!

As I knew he would, at first Mac just watched me. I'm good at it, I move well and I know I look good. I wear a lot of black, not just because it's smart but also because it really suits my colouring - amber-brown eyes, dark black hair and very white skin.

One, smooth move had the long back zip down and, with a kind of shrug, the cocktail dress slid to the floor, leaving me standing there in just a very skimpy bra and panty set and my stockings and shoes. As I stepped out of the dress I made a point of lifting my feet higher than was really necessary, showing off what are probably my best assets, my legs.

I watched Mac's reaction as I used one foot to lift the dress up from the floor and then slowly and very carefully folded it, turning around to show off the rest of me as I put it over the back of a chair. His reaction was even better than I had hoped for, I noticed him surreptitiously using one hand to shift to a more comfortable position the erection that had obviously started to develop.

I gave him a quick smile - letting him know that I knew how he was feeling - and that I appreciated his physical reaction to me.

As I said, I know how good I look like that, how sexy I can be in just bra, panties and stockings. 

Even though my breasts are rather big, they're still firm and I don't really need to wear a bra - but I know men get more turned on by something that's hidden, even if they know what it is that they can't see yet. My tummy is really flat and I work on it regularly to keep it that way, of course in my line of business the abdominal muscles get plenty of exercise - but I get to the gym regularly too. I've got a well-shaped arse too, nicely rounded and, like my breasts, still nice and firm. Most guys like to fit their hands around it - and I don't mind admitting, if the hands belong to the right guy, so do I!

Then of course there's my legs - that's what usually gets the men, they just can't believe how long they are, how far up they go - 'all the way up to my arm-pits' some have said!

So, knowing how I looked and seeing how Mac was already reacting to me, I moved around even a bit more than I normally would - letting him get a good look at me from all angles, so he could enjoy whatever aspect of me was most arousing for him.

That's one thing men and women do have in common. That individuals have very specific and very personal idiosyncrasies as to what turns them on. In a group of tit men for instance, one will go for sheer size, another for the shape, yet another for the nipples - all different - yet still they're all tit men.

Others go for legs, bums, hair, all sorts of things, so until you know what it is about a girl that turns a particular guy on, you need to flaunt all parts of yourself.

So, I made sure that as I took off my bra and panties, and then placed them on the chair, I gave Mac plenty of chances to have a good look at all of me. Then, as up to then he'd just been sitting, staring at me, as though mesmerised by my performance and I was down to just my stockings and shoes - I said it was about time he got some gear off too. 

I moved towards him and stood beside the bed, obviously just waiting for him - and I must say that once he got moving it didn't take him long to get stripped - and I was impressed with the result. His muscles were still in good shape, he had nice, broad shoulders, a tight arse, nice thighs and as importantly, a nicely shaped, large cock - large and erect!

Even if the guy I'm with isn't the most attractive man in the world, I still always love to see his cock sort of 'spring up' as he starts to pull his pants down, it gives me a nice feeling of anticipation - and I must say, Mac's certainly had plenty of 'spring' in it.

By that time I was completely naked of course and for a few moments we simply looked each other over, each anticipating what was to come - and then I noticed a tight smile appear on his face and while his eyes stared deep into mine he reached out for me, put his hands on my hips - firm, strong hands - gently turned me around and pushed me down until I was sitting on the side of the bed - then lay me back, spread my thighs apart and, kneeling on the floor, began to eat me!

He went about it very slowly and delicately, at first stroking me with his fingers, then kissing my thighs and stomach before finally using his tongue too - but even then, starting by just teasing my pussy, just the way I like it, taking his time, making sure I was enjoying it - and getting aroused too. 

I didn't have to fake it that time, as we usually do of course, I actually felt that heavy stirring deep inside me as his tongue, mouth and caressing hands started to build the beginnings of a genuine orgasm.

So, when after what seemed like ages, he stopped licking and gently sucking me, I was more than ready for him and only when he was sure of that, he lifted me further back on to the bed, came up over me and, as I raised and spread my legs for him, he guided his beautifully swollen cock-head between my wetly pouting pussy-lips.

He began to fuck me with long, slow strokes - getting deeper and deeper into me with each one until the feel of the size and mass of his cock inside me gave me that lovely 'full' feeling.

Then there was a knock on the door!

He paused, frowned, we looked at each other, he gave me that same tight smile and - as the knocking started again, louder this time - he ignored it and restarted those slow, deep strokes in and out of me!

Then we heard a voice call out a couple of times, in a kind of hoarse whisper.

'Mac, Mac - open up. Mac, I know she's in there with you.' More knocking, then a muttered oath, then silence.

'So, Mac is his real name.' I thought to myself.

He grinned down at me and said - 'Thank God he's gone. Sorry about the interruption.' - and then carried on as though nothing at all had happened, thrusting into me with those long, powerful strokes that reached right into the heart of me and started to re-kindle the fire that the interruption had threatened to dampen. 

I suppose I lay there for three or four minutes, lost in the pleasure Mac and his beautiful cock were giving me, feeling the slowly rising swell edging me closer towards the ultimate sensation.




Brandy Ch. 01-02



Then the bloody phone rang!

Mac ignored it at first but it went on and on and on, its penetrating ring right beside us, shattered the atmosphere. Finally, leaving his cock buried high up inside me and taking his full weight on just one arm, he reached across and picked it up.  

Only being able to hear half of the conversation made it difficult to understand what was actually going on - but I could see Mac was getting angrier as the caller apparently refused to take 'no' for an answer. As his anger rose, I could feel his erection slackening, his cock becoming less rigid.

Then I realised that he was talking about me!

'No Bennie, understand that is N - O, no! No I am not sending her along to your room and no you are not coming along here to collect her. Go back to one of the other girls!'

And with that he slammed down the phone.

By that time the full strength of his erection had diminished of course, his cock was still big and swollen and inside me, but it no longer had that wonderful, tempered hardness.

'I'm sorry about all that.' he said as he looked down at me. 'I'll get us both a drink.' He pulled out, got up and padded across the room, my eyes automatically following him, drawn by the sight of his still larger-than-most, cock flopping about as he moved. He poured the drinks, came back to sit beside me on the bed and started to talk..

He told me that Bennie was one of their senior managers, a not very pleasant person, always playing office politics - if not to get something for himself then just for the pleasure of depriving someone else of something, boosting his personal sense of power. Mac told me about one or two occasions when he had personally run up against Bennie and, that because he had so far been unable to get the better of Mac, Bennie seemed to have become desperate for a 'win'.

We were sitting side by side, close together, our bare thighs just touching and I had one hand resting on top of his, my finger-tips slowly tracing the outline of the long, lean muscle and I noticed that every now and then how his eyes were dropping, to look at my breasts. I was very aware of the fact that the nipples were both a dark-red colour and still quite stiffly swollen - my breasts are very sensitive and when I have been aroused as deeply as I had been by Mac, their nipples show it. 

Guessing how frustrated he must be feeling after Bennie's double interruption I let my hand slip down over the inner curve of his thigh, finding his cock, feeling it twitch and then begin to grow just from the light touch of my fingers brushing over its length. I toyed with it for a few minutes then, taking the glass from his hand and putting it on the bedside table, told him to 'Lie back and relax!' - deciding it was about time I earned my fee!

Kneeling down between his legs, I gently held his still swollen balls in one hand, lifting and rolling them with my fingers, while I took a firmer grip of his cock with the other. Bending forward, letting the ends of my hair trail across his upper thighs, I closed my fingers around the shaft and began to slide the loose skin slowly up and down, watching with satisfaction as the shiny red head grew a little more each time and I felt the previous hardness beginning to return as fresh blood pumped back into his cock.

When, after it had almost reached its previous size and hardness, I lowered my lips to it - I felt it jerk in my grasp and heard his soft moans of pleasure as my tongue swirled around the sensitive ridge behind the cock-head. Opening my mouth wide I bent lower and slowly engulfed him - relaxing my throat until eventually I took all of him inside.

The combination of my hands, one rolling and gently squeezing his balls, the other stroking firmly up and down the now vibrating shaft, coupled with the rise and fall of my mouth - very soon had him writhing and softly moaning at the pleasure I was giving him. As the intensity of those sensations steadily grew stronger his hips began driving his cock upwards, thrusting it harder and even deeper, forcing me to gape wider and almost making my jaws ache as I accepted the increasingly massive hardness of him.

Then I felt the power of the rising surge of his climax, saw his stomach and thigh muscles tighten, his face contort and heard his moans turn to sharp gasps at the intensity of the pleasure-pain. His shaft suddenly became even more swollen as the semen boiled up it and his bloated cock-head jammed itself even further down my throat as, with a series of even louder, guttural cries, he heaved upwards and I felt and then tasted the thick, creamy cum pumping explosively into my throat and overflowing back up to fill my mouth, forcing me to gulp breathlessly as I tried to swallow the seemingly never ending flood.

But before Mac had completely finished I moved quickly, up over him, straddling his body with my thighs, using my hand to guide his still pumping cock between my pussy-lips. Then, with a sigh from the pleasure that the feel of his cock gave me, I lowered myself down, absorbing all of his still jerkily pulsating shaft until the crinkly, pubic hairs at the base of it meshed with mine.

The next few seconds are still a confused blur - I know I started to moan as the spasming length of him stretched me wide open as I thrust myself up and down it and that he was crying out with the intensity of his continuing orgasm. Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered the fact that there was a noise at the door - but we were both too overwhelmed by what we were each feeling to either respond or react.

Then the door burst open - I saw two men standing there, they both stared wide-eyed at the sight of us furiously fucking, then one of them rushed in - and actually grabbed hold of me, pulling me, making me lose my balance. The other man stayed in the door-way for a few more seconds and I caught a fleeting glimpse of the look of astonished embarrassment on his young face before I fell sideways off Mac and the bed and hit the floor.

The man that had caused it all ignored me and stood over Mac, shouting, cursing, yelling at the top of his voice. 

The younger man at the door took a few moments to take in what was going on - and I don't blame him for that. But when he realised that everything wasn't as he had apparently expected, he came in, closed the door behind him and started trying to quieten the guy who was still shouting at Mac. 

He too got pushed violently away and, caught off guard, he tripped over my sprawled legs and ended up on the floor beside me.

Mac, poor man, was still recovering from his orgasm and the extension of it that I had been giving him. By the time he had got his wits about him he too was being manhandled.

But it was Mac who put an end to the farce. 

I was trying to pick myself up from where I had been thrown, to see if the young man beside me needed any help when, recognising the look in his bulging eyes, that were hungrily eyeing everything I had to offer, I realised there was nothing really wrong with him, when a voice cut right through all of the intruders' shouting and screaming.

The voice was one that I hadn't heard before - cold, hard, authoritarian.

'Bennie - if you don't stop I'll not only have you fired, tomorrow - I'll also see to it that Janet gets every single detail of your grotty goings on with that poor kid in Accounts, including the very strange things you make her do for you! Not to mention the annual bonus you get, that Janet has never known about - and who it has actually been spent on. Along with several other, particularly nasty things about you that are only rumours so far.'

As he thundered I looked up and saw Mac's face. It was the face of a completely different man to the one I had been so much enjoying myself with - a mask of cold, calculated power, a mask from which pale blue eyes stared, stared up at the man beside him, emotionless eyes.

The effect of the voice and the look were incredible - the man, Bennie, seemed to shrink, not just mentally but physically too. He cowered, defeated - in just a few seconds that raging, aggressive man had been totally humbled, cut to half size.

It was over as quickly as it had begun, the young man, who turned out to be one of the night managers, finished his visual inspection of my nakedness, collected himself, and took a now docile Bennie away. I only found out later from one of the girls, that Bennie had conned him into coming up and opening the door with his pass-key by telling him that he thought that a colleague of his was having a heart attack. I guess that if they had stopped outside and listened at the door the noise of Mac's strained cries of pleasure could easily have been mistaken for those of pain.

Can you imagine that though - calling in the hotel management, storming into Mac's room like that, just to try and get a girl he had taken a fancy to, assuming that his position and natural aggression were all that was necessary. Man's 'human nature'!

But, even Mac - kind, considerate, loving Mac had a hidden viciousness of course. The threats he made to Bennie weren't empty ones - obviously he had a wealth of information stored up from somewhere - and was prepared to use it at the right time, to cut down a rival.

Of course my night with Mac was finished - it couldn't have been the same after that, I would have then just been some girl on which he could now take out his own pent-up anger or aggression - and I didn't want any part of that kind of scene. So I just quickly put on my things and slipped out of the door while he was in the bath-room.

Chapter 2

ROBERT

Jealousy is a terribly destructive emotion, it must wreck hundreds, thousand of relationships every year - sometimes violently. Bennie's actions had all the hallmarks of jealousy - but in his case I'm sure it was coloured by power too, his need to be as powerful as he felt Mac was, what Mac had, Bennie wanted, I don't think it had anything to do with me personally, I think he would have acted in just the same way no matter which girl Mac had taken to bed.

But it's hard to imagine anyone getting jealous of an escort-girl isn't it. I mean all it takes are a few dollars and she's yours, well she is for as long as you want to keep paying for her anyway. But it must be obvious to everyone that although she may appear to be enjoying what's happening - and, as I've said, occasionally I really do - the whole thing is a business to her, she just can't afford to get emotionally involved with a client.

But in spite of that, it happens - and more often than you might think. Guys get something they can't or think they can't get with their wife or regular girl-friend, or maybe they're just unable to develop those kinds of relationships. Anyway, for whatever reason, from time to time we all meet guys who say they've fallen in love, want you for just themselves, even propose. Maybe it work's in movies and maybe, just maybe sometimes in real life - but I doubt it.

Anyway, as I said, jealousy is a terribly destructive emotion and the things people do when it grips them can be quite peculiar. I remember one good example of just how strangely people can react, it started with a guy called Robert and funnily enough I met him at a party not unlike the one I met Mac and Bennie at, a group of guys out together who had arranged for a few girls to come in after dinner as treats for themselves.

It was small group, just half a dozen men celebrating something or other, I never was really sure what. Not that it mattered too much, by the time we got there most of them were too far gone with drink to make any sense and a couple of them looked as though they wouldn't be able to do much more than just grope the girls they were with. That's pretty common in our business too, it's amazing how often a girl will get a booking or get called out late in the evening - only to find that the guy is totally incapable of doing anything about it once you get there. Then they often get angry of course, sometimes because when they haven't been able to do anything they don't see why they should still pay you, others times angry with themselves, which they take out on you - liquor is the cause of many a hassle for girls in the business.

Although Robert had been drinking too, he wasn't in as bad a state as a couple of them, so I was quite glad to see that he fancied me and as I preferred being fucked by someone who was reasonably sober to being hassled by a drunk, I responded quite positively to his initial approach.

Unlike many men he made no secret of the fact that he was married, apart from the fact that he wore a ring he actually mentioned her a few times, Laurie was her name. Even more surprisingly he also made no secret of the fact that he was still very much in love with her, which was refreshing - most men seem to have to justify being with an escort by denigrating their wife and what she does, or even more often, what she doesn't do.

He eased me away from the rest of the group and asked if he could be alone with me, which I thought was a sweet of him - I mean the fact that he asked instead of just demanding - and when I said of course he could, we slipped out of the suite they were holding the party in and went up to his room together.

Once alone he became much more nervous, almost shy and insisted on getting us both a drink before we did anything else and as we sat side by side on the edge of the bed I could tell from the way he twirled the glass around between his fingers that he was going to need me to help him get started. Some guys love having a girl that's really up-front, you know the sort of thing - 'Hey honey, I really need that big, juicy cock of yours!' - but I didn't think that was the right way to get Robert under way. Instead I just slipped off the bed, put my glass down and began by untying his shoe-laces, then, as I looked up into his dark brown eyes, slipping off his shoes and socks.

That simple gesture seemed to break down the barrier inside his head, he leaned down, slipped his hands beneath my arms and as he rose, pulled me to my feet and slipped his arms around me, pulling me tight up against himself. He only held me like that for a minute or two, then started fumbling with the zip on the back of my dress. Feeling that, I slipped out of his arms.

'Let me do that - you get yourself ready Robert.' I said, stepping back a few paces so he could watch me undressing.

He did, in fact he didn't take his eyes off me the whole time, just dropping his own clothes in a jumbled heap beside the bed and when he got down to taking off his under-pants I could see that he was responding both positively and quickly - his cock was already lifting itself up to a semi-vertical position.

His love-making was gentle but thorough, he spent quite a long time nuzzling and sucking on my breasts, gave my pussy a shorter but still quite nice licking and then, when he was sure I was ready for him, came up on top of me and fucked me slowly but powerfully.

As we had been paid to stay until a certain time and because Robert and I had left the party early there was still an hour or so left before my time was up and so I stayed on with him and for a time we lay quietly in each others arms, saying little, just enjoying that warm feeling you get after a satisfying session. After a while I noticed that his intermittent caresses were becoming more purposeful and when I slipped my hand down between his legs found that his cock was re-filling.

He had been nice and considerate to me, so I re-paid him by being nice and considerate to his cock. Shifting myself down to kneel between his legs and using my fingers and mouth to get him erect and fully aroused, then straddling him and giving him a long, slow second helping of pussy. It took him longer that time and his climax wasn't as powerful as his first of course - but it was obvious from his reaction that he enjoyed having it that way and that the fucking I gave him totally drained him. When I finally slipped sideways off his shrinking cock he reached up and ruffled my hair, murmuring something or other about 'Most wonderful experience.' Then, more clearly. 'I'd like to see you again, can I have your phone number?'

I wrote it down for him then went through to the bath-room to clean myself up and get dressed again and when I came back out I saw that he had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep.

A few days later I got a phone call from a woman, asking if I took female as well as male clients - it happens more often than you might think, there are an awful lot of married women out there who are either closet lesbians or who yearn for sex with another woman from time to time. I said, 'Sometimes.' and when I asked her how she had got my name she said that she was a business associate of a man that I recognised had been the boss of the group that Robert had been with. She wanted me to meet with her at her home, mid-afternoon a couple of days later, I named a price and she agreed.

I always take that extra bit of care in getting myself ready to meet a woman, they may not say anything - but they are far more critical than a man is. A man sees the total effect, not the detail - a woman will pick-up on silly little things like the fact that the ear-rings don't precisely go with another piece of jewellery, or that a different shade of stockings would look better with the under-wear. Men are usually too busy looking at what's beneath to worry about such things.

When I got there I found she was far more nervous than she had sounded over the phone - and as it was obvious from the things around the house that she was a married woman I guessed having someone like myself there was either unusual or perhaps even her first time. So I acted accordingly, taking my time about things but still gently encouraging her along. She took me through to the lounge-room, where she had a tray of drinks and nibbles waiting and for a time we sat side by side on a settee, making hesitant conversation. Even though she was only wearing a full-length house-coat, under which I imagined she'd have on either her best or a new set of under-wear I felt sure she had spent most of the day getting herself ready for me so I complimented her on her perfume, her hair, her skin, trying my best to put her at ease - but getting the feeling that I wasn't really succeeding.

So, after some time had passed, rather than waste any more of it I decided to take charge and said.

'Why don't we go through to the bed-room, then you can help me get out of these things.'

Even then she seemed reluctant so I got up, took her hand and gently pulled her up after me. At least that got things moving and she led me through the house to what was clearly her and her husband's bed-room. I slipped my arms around her waist and kissed the side of her neck, whispering that I would really like her to take my clothes off for me - feeling that if I could get her to actively do something the rest might more easily follow.

I was right about that - and once we did get started I felt sure I had also been right earlier - I was either her first or at the very least it had been a long time since she had been with another woman. But if I was her first I must say that once we had overcome that initial reluctance, she took to it like a duck to water!

Once she had helped me get undressed I did the same for her, finding I had been right about her under-wear too, it was obviously brand new. She had a good body, her breasts were not too big and still quite firm, her hips and bottom both trim and as I kissed and caressed her silky smooth skin I felt a faint but distinct little flutter down between my legs.

I gave her the full treatment but was still surprised at the actual strength of the climax I was able to give her - and once that had subsided was pleased to find that then she wanted to do the same for me. She'd certainly learned quickly, in spite of her initial diffidence she soon had me writhing with genuine pleasure as her hands and tongue built and then delivered a very satisfying climax for me.




Brandy Ch. 01-02



As I lay back, letting my heart get back to its normal beat she got up and went out, returning with the tray from the lounge-room and we sat propped up on the bed together, sipping the rest of the drink and munching on the snacks. I risked asking her if this was the first time she had been with someone like me and she admitted that it was - and that it was her first time with a woman.

'Was it how you hoped it would be?'

'Oh, much, much better. I really wasn't sure I was going to enjoy it - but I did.'

'I could tell that much.' I answered with a grin and she grinned back at me.

'Yes, yes I suppose it was pretty obvious wasn't it. And you, was I any good for you - or was that just a professional reaction?'

'Quite genuine I assure you.'

'Oh that's good, I'm glad I was able to do that for you. Does it - I mean do you, do you get to climax often?'

'Not often - but it happens sometimes. It depends on the person - and how I'm feeling of course. You'd understand that I'm sure, being married I mean, there must be times when you fake it too, for your husband's sake.'

'Oh yes, lots of times.' she said with a giggle. 'I wonder how they'd feel if they knew.'

'Better that we don't tell them - better for both I mean.'

'Mmm.' she said with a definite nod of the head, then became silent and her eyes dropped, looking down over my body. When she looked back up into mine I saw and recognised the change that had come over them and taking the empty glass from her, put both down on the floor beside me then turned and slipping my arms around her, whispered in her ear.

'I'd like to start again - wouldn't you?'

She didn't answer me directly but rolled over and I somehow felt sure she was first checking the time from the clock on the bed-side table, then turning back, she replied with actions, not words - and made it clear that she wanted to give to me first that time, which I was quite happy about.

That second time her actions were much slower, more confident and I guessed she was doing to me what she sometimes fantasised someone was doing to her, so I took careful note of the way she was going about things, planning on returning those favours to her a little later.

But unfortunately for her I was not given the chance to do that. If she had been trying to time things the way they happened she couldn't have been more successful, I was just starting to climb up to the first peak of the climax she had so skilfully developed for me when the door opened. I had been so pre-occupied with what was going on inside me that I hadn't heard him coming into the house - but she must have - and ignored it.

The first I knew was a voice. 'Laurie! Brandy?!' But even that didn't stop her, just made her flick her tongue even faster over my clit, sending me right up over the top.

It was Robert of course. I discovered later, when he'd stormed out into the kitchen and while I wiped myself down and got dressed, that he had mumbled something in his sleep, that Laurie had then found the phone number I'd given him and put two and two together. She was hurt, hurt and jealous and had got so worked up about it that she'd come up with the idea of letting him come home to find me making love to her too. But as things turned out, she so enjoyed the experience of giving me pleasure that her original plan had been discarded in preference of being able to simply repeat that.

A couple of weeks later I had another call from Laurie, that time she wanted to know if I'd be interested in a threesome, with Robert and herself - and what had started out as a jealous pay-back turned out to be the start of another regular, if infrequent customer relationship.





Brandy Ch. 02



The continuing story of Brandy, a young woman with a white mother and black father who is stunning, with long, thick brown hair, blue eyes, and mocha colored skin, tall and slender.

*

After that first night with Leslie, my former dance teacher at college, we started going out regularly and became a couple. I was still in school, but it lasted quite a while and she fell pretty hard for me. I loved her, but not as intensely, and also wanted to have my freedom to see others as the mood took me. 

She was very possessive and jealous, and this lead to more than one difficult scene. However, the make-up sex was incredible! She wanted me to move in with her, but something kept me from it. Perhaps she loved me too intensely. This went on for almost a year, and then I met Justin.

Justin was a third year graduate student, getting his MBA in Business. He was the sole heir of a very wealthy tire manufacturing family, and was the only surviving son. He would inherit a huge fortune when he turned 25, which was about 6 months away.  

Justin was raised mostly by his father, who was a bon vivant and man of the world. He was divorced, his mother lived in Morocco with her boyfriend and he didn't see much of her. His father taught him from an early age to enjoy life to the fullest, to travel, explore the world and live life for the wonderful adventure that it can be. 

Justin was a delightful man, warm, funny, sensual, full of life, and never had a mean word for anyone. He had been pampered and given anything he wanted all his life, and he expected me to enjoy this lifestyle with him. For our first date he took me by helicopter from Los Angeles where he was at the same school as I attended to a vineyard his family owned in Napa Valley. We stayed there for the weekend, and enjoyed delicious food prepared by the family chef. 

Other than the staff, we were alone, and he had a pool and lovely surroundings at the vineyard. We drank quite a bit of the incredible wine that they produced there. On Monday, he had to shoot an ad for the vineyard and asked me if I wanted to be in it, so we did. We had a lot of fun together, and he made love with me like he did everything else, with a free spirit, a wonderful heart, and made everything enjoyable and fun.

He told me when we were first together that he believed in open relationships, but he does love fully and expect complete honestly. At the time we met, I was 19, so this was a bit confusing to me. We talked about it, and he said that what he wanted was a woman who could keep up with him. Money would never be a problem with us, he had a fortune and as long as he finished his MBA so he could know how to handle his fortune, his father would allow him to do whatever he wanted. 

He wanted someone to travel the world, explore life, each other and create, and have fun with; and he asked me that first weekend if I wanted to be with him. He said he would never be able to be faithful, but he would try to focus his life and love on me, but if someone came along that interested him, he would try include him or her in our relationship. He said he also didn't mind if I had other lovers, as long as I was honest and open with him. He also said he didn't believe in marriage, he felt that turned love into property, but he did believe in close, long, loving ties. 

After nearly a year of fighting with Leslie who was possessive and controlling, this seemed like a dream come true. Justin and I were perfectly compatible, and when me made love it was fun and easy and everything it should be. 

After the weekend was over I broke up with Leslie, who took it very badly and had to have counseling, from what I heard. I called her and told her I was sorry, but I met someone else and she eventually moved on to another younger student. 

Justin was sterile from a skiing accident when he was a teenager, but other than that was an incredible lover. He was very handsome, young, and fit, he was kind of an exercise nut, which fit in well with my dancing. 

We were together for many months, and during that time we traveled, his family owned houses all over the world and his father was on the board of a major airline, so we could fly wherever we wanted at a moment?s notice. He also had a family helicopter and small plane, and they could be used to travel also. 

One weekend, after we were together for about three months, very happily, we went on a drive up to Santa Barbara. We drove to Santa Barbara in Justin's little BMW sports car to stay with a couple friend of his, Steve and Wendy. They were also wealthy, uninhibited, and fun, and we hit it off from the first moment I met them. They had a small yacht named Adventure, and we were going to go sailing on it during the weekend. 

We had a great time together that weekend, and all had quite a bit to drink one night. Steve brought up the idea of swapping mates over dinner, and while it put me back a bit, Justin told him to ask the ladies, it was fine with him. Wendy said fine, she had had her eye on Justin from the beginning. Steve was older, with silver grey hair and tanned and slender, an excellent tennis player and a wealthy businessman. I wasn't sure if I could go along with it, but Justin said why don't you try it, he said Steve was one of his best friends and he would trust him with his life. 

When he said life, it came out "wife" and we all had a good laugh about that. 

After dinner was over, Justin asked me if I was game. I looked at him and Steve, and said OK I'll try it, but if I don't like it I don't have to do it again. He said fine and hugged me, and Wendy and he went off to her bedroom. After a few minutes, Steve came over to me, and put on some music and brought some champagne. 

He could tell I was a bit hesitant, so he took his time to get to know me better, and then we went to the guest bedroom where Justin and I were staying. Steve slowly seduced me, kissing me from lips to toes first, and generally reassuring me that this would be fine. I responded to him, almost against my better judgment, since I did love Justin completely at that point and was a bit miffed by having to share him. "What are you afraid of, Brandy," Steve asked at one point.

"I don't know, maybe loosing him."

"So what if you do, first of all, that won't happen, Justin told me his was crazy about you."

"What if he falls in love with her?"

"What if he does? That's more my problem than yours, isn't it? I'll just have to win her back."

At that point, he undressed me slowly and erotically. He took his time, and kissed my breasts, and my stomach, and spent a long, long time kissing between my legs. I couldn't help but respond to him, he was a very good lover, and he put on a condom and entered me. He made love to me very well, but I was a bit upset afterwards and confused, and after he was done, he held me and said, "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No."

I realized if I were to stay with Justin, this would be the price I would have to pay, to share him, even if I were difficult emotionally for me. 

"You don't have to do anything, you know, I'll take care of you."

"Thank you."

Steve seemed to realize this was difficult for me, and I wondered if I wasn't the first woman they had shared.

We spent the night together, and Steve made love to me again in the middle of the night. I was more relaxed then and came loudly, and then he asked if I was into anal sex. I had never tried it before, certainly I had some fingers there, but was never fucked in my bottom before. I said I was a virgin there but he could try if he wanted to. 

He got some lotion and told me to turn over and spread my legs widely. I did as I was told and he started kissing and licking between my legs, and started to put first one finger, than two inside my ass. It felt good, a bit strange at first, but then my body accepted him and he soon had three fingers impaled inside me. It was a forbidden, dark feeling and I enjoyed it, the wantonness of it. 

He said do you want to be fucked in your ass, you dirty slut, and I said "Yes, I do."

He asked me to beg for it, which at first I found off-putting but then got into the game of it.

"Please, Steve."

"Please, what?"

"Please fuck my ass!"

At that he pulled his fingers out, rubbed his cock with some lotion and started to enter me. It was very tight, I had never had a man inside me there before, but he persisted. It was a bit painful, but he rubbed my clit and tits wildly and I soon found myself abandoning to his brazen invasion. He took me fully, and I was his, and he came loudly inside me. I came too, desperately stroking my own clit like a madwoman as I did.

Afterward he laughed and said, "You have to tell Justin you like that."

"I will."

I looked at him, he was very handsome and erotic. I wondered how would I keep from falling in love with both of them, Justin also had such a powerful erotic hold on me.

In the morning their chef prepared a delicious brunch for us, and we all went sailing on Steve and Wendy's yacht off the coast of Santa Barbara. 

While we were sailing, Justin asked me how I liked last night.

"It was fun."

He teased me a bit, he had heard us and was glad that I had a good time. 

While we were on the yacht, we all started drinking champagne, and Steve asked if he could have me again. I was a bit put off that he asked Justin, and not me, but Justin said talk to her, not me. 

Steve looked at me. Wendy was sitting next to Justin, and at that moment put her hand on Justin's thigh. I supposed it would be OK with all of them, and I didn't want to interrupt the moment. So despite myself, feeling like a slut, I said yes.

Steve and Justin dropped the anchor off an island somewhere. It was deserted, and no one was around except the four of us and a crew member who was busy in the galley preparing food. Wendy and Steve quiet casually stripped down completely and they dove in the water. Justin followed suit, so did I, and we were all swimming and diving off the boat, completely alone except for the birds and the beautiful sea. After a while Wendy started kissing Justin and they went back into the boat, and Steve and I got out. Steve came over to me and started kissing me, and he could tell I was a bit hesitant.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid. What if I end up loving you more than him? Where does it stop?"

"You worry too much. Just enjoy it, OK? Here, have some more champagne."

I had another drink and soon didn't care what Steve was doing to me. 

He eventually had me on the boat, spreadeagled in the sun, and was kissing me and putting his fingers inside me, one inside my pussy and another inside my ass. He had me completely, I was helpless to stop him from doing whatever he wanted. 

Wendy and Justin had retired to our cabin, and were making sounds like they were thoroughly enjoying each other. Steve was arousing me completely, and soon was taking me on the deck of the yacht, with just come curious birds overhead, out in the sun. I was completely ravished by him, helpless to stop him. He took me missionary style, then told me to turn over and took me from behind like a wanton slut. I enjoyed it, but was also ashamed, yet this seemed to turn him on even more. He made me sit on top of him, and played with my breasts as I fucked him. I was completely aroused, yet embarrassed, and a bit humiliated to be made to make love out in the open like this, with my boyfriend fucking my lover's wife as I did. Oddly enough it all seemed to turn us on more, and Steve and I and Justin and Wendy spent the better part of the afternoon fucking each other's partners. 

When it was getting towards dusk, Steve said he had to be getting back. I hated to leave. Somehow I knew that there would be repercussions, although I didn't quite know what they were, and I was a bit apprehensive. 

We sailed back quietly, and returned to their huge house in the Santa Barbara hills. Justin and I packed up. When we were saying goodbye, Steve hugged me and said "Relax, baby, it will be OK."

Justin and I drove back to LA in his sports car in relative silence. 

"What's wrong?" he finally asked. 

"I just feel used, that's all."

At this point Justin exploded. It was the first time I had ever seen him angry, and it surprised me. He said he hated women sometimes, they only want to get married and settle down, and couldn't understand why they were selling themselves like that. Why get tied down and give up their freedom? What's the point? He was tired of women who could only handle one man at a time, and he said he would never, ever get married. It would be the end for him. 

I was quiet, too startled to speak. We drove home quietly, and then he dropped me off at my apartment. I didn't hear from him for a few days, but after about a week, he called and said he wanted to take me out to dinner.

"OK."

He said he'd pick me up at 8 and I should wear something pretty, we'd be going out to dinner at a nice restaurant with some friends. I did and he picked me up later on. 

I was wearing a black mini-dress, with high heels and no stockings or underwear of any kind. I didn't want to take the chance on losing Justin. I loved him, and realized I would have to play his game if I wanted to keep him. 

Although it pissed me off a bit, I realized that a man like that would only come along once in a lifetime, and I was determined to see it through.

"You look nice," he said when he picked me up.

"Thank you."

"We're going out to dinner with my friends Bruce and Gail. You haven't met them. They're great, Gail's very rich and they're both artsy. They like to do coke, too, but you don't have to if you don't want to."

"OK."

Great, I thought. Now what. 

We went to Bruce and Gail's house, they lived together, and they did some lines and had some drinks before going to dinner. I didn't have any coke, I only like to drink, and they were all having a great time. We went to an elegant restaurant afterward, and had a pretty good time. After dinner we went back to Bruce and Gail's house, they were going to do some more coke. I just drank, but they were having fun, and soon we were all dancing together and carrying on. 

Gail was wearing something very skimpy and she suddenly took off her dress. I was a bit startled, but then Bruce and Justin got undressed, too. 

I figured, what the hell, then took off my mini-dress. Of course I was completely naked, because I had neglected to put on underwear. We were all dancing and carrying on, and Justin and Bruce and I started kissing. Gail started hugging me too. I realized this was going to be a group scene, and although I really wasn't into that kind of thing, I knew if I were going to keep Justin in my life I would have to learn to keep up with him. So I went for it, I started kissing Gail on the lips and between her legs, almost as if to show them I was game. The guys started watching us, and applauded, and Gail and I made love while they watched. 

Eventually we all went to their bedroom and spent the night together. I was pretty drunk at the time, the evening was a jumble of cocks and pussies, mouths and fingers. We all enjoyed it though, although I honestly can't remember much of it.

In the morning, Justin and I left, I had to get back to class and he had some work to do. We made plans to get together again soon though, and we started all hanging out often. Justin would do coke when they were with us, but never on his own. 

We would get together about once a week and they would do coke and we would all end up in bed together. Eventually Justin started buying coke on his own, and he wanted me to join him. I resisted, I don't like drugs, but couldn't stop him. He was getting more and more into it and one night I gently asked him if he thought he had a problem. 

"No problem," he said, doing another line.

"I think you're becoming a coke addict, Justin."

"So what if I am, it's fun."

I realized I would be powerless to stop him from doing what he wanted to. 

This went on for a couple of months, he partying with me and Bruce and Gail, getting high, me trying to keep it all together. Finally I had had enough and called my parents for help. 

They were wonderful, and immediately told me to come home and just stay with them for a while, and they would handle it. They called Justin's father and he contacted a rehab center and arranged for an intervention with Justin. Justin was pissed off but eventually went off to rehab. His father was great too and thanked us very much for calling him. 

My parents didn't say anything to me about it, just asked if I did coke too, and I told them, and this was the truth, that I never did. I realized I didn't want a coke addict in my life, and although I wanted to stay with him and felt bad about everything, the counselors at the rehab center said it was his battle to fight and I couldn't do it for him. I was staying at my parent's house for a while, visiting Justin in rehab and going to school, and one night when I was alone at my parent's house, Brian happened to call them. He was my old boyfriend, my first actually, and was a friend of my parents. He's a successful black musician and very handsome. I picked up the phone and answered it, and he was surprised to find me there. 

"Brandy, is that you?"

"Yeah, hi Brian."

"How you doing, girl, I haven't talked to you for ages!"

"Well, not so good, actually."

"What's going on?"

"I'm just staying with my parents for a while while my boyfriend dries out in rehab. He's a coke addict, a rich one, but an addict just the same."

Brian said he would be right over and take me out so we could talk.

I told him the whole story, the swapping scenes up in Santa Barbara on the yacht, the parties, the group sex. 

"Man, girl, you are only 20 years old, and you've done all that! What are you going to save for when you're my age?"

I laughed. 

"What about you, what have you been up to?"

"Well, I'm divorced, and live with Tony, a really great guy. You should meet him, he'd like you.?

"I'd like to."

"He's 29, also a musician, and we've been together nearly two years now."

"That's great, Brian, really great."

"Hey, why don't you come over for dinner Friday, I'll pick you up."

"OK. Should I bring something?"

"Nope, just your sweet self."

"OK, thanks, sweetie."

"And hey, call me on my cell if there's anything I can do for you, here's my cell number."

"OK, thanks."

We hugged and he dropped me off at my parents.

The next day I visited Justin in rehab and we had a horrible fight. He was still furious at me for busting him, and accused me of being a cunt and a bitch. Eventually one of the counselors came and helped us out because he was fighting with me so loudly. 

The counselor told Justin that Brandy here possibly saved your life, and he was too much in the middle of battling his addiction to realize it. He also said that Brandy, you have to make a decision here. You don't have to put up with this behavior. As guilty as that made me feel, and as much as I cared about Justin, I realized when he was using he was a monster, and I had to get the strength to walk away from him until his demons were under control. I told Justin as much in front of the counselor. He called me a stupid bitch and I walked out.

I was pretty upset when I got home, and started crying. I missed the old Justin! We were having such a great time, what happened, why did he do this to us?

I looked in my purse and found Brian's cell number, and called him. I'm afraid I was pretty upset, and cried into the phone to him. He was great, and let me talk it all out. 

When I was done, he said, "You are going to have to let him go to face this alone. You can't do it for him."

"I know," sobbing.

"I want you to tell him that until he's clean, you don't want to talk to him or hear from him. He's an addict, believe me, I've seen this before, you can't save him. You just have to walk away until he gets it under control."




Brandy Ch. 02



"Yeah."

"I have seen too much of this in the music industry, so many really talented people are just lost."

"You take care of Brandy, OK, sweetie? Call me anytime."

"OK, I will."

I felt a lot better after that and decided to just focus on my school again and try to forget about it all.

For my senior thesis I had to choreograph a 15 minute dance piece. I was working with my adviser, and she said I needed to get it done in time before winter break so she could review my progress and have it ready for graduation. I worked feverishly on it, it was a solo dance piece and I realized I was pouring all my emotions and hurt into it. It was called Lost and Found and really seemed to come together one weekend when I was rehearsing it at school. I asked Brian to do the drums for it, and he said he would be happy to. His boyfriend Tony was also playing keyboards, and we started to rehearse regularly.

It was a great release for me, and soon I was feeling better. I knew I was going to have to let Justin go unless he could get past this. 

I received a very high grade on my thesis and graduated with honors, and then enrolled in the graduate program at school to get a teaching credential. I had financial aid and a scholarship, and while I wasn't rich, between my parents help and the financial aid, I did OK.

One afternoon when I was finalizing my thesis, Brian, Tony and I had been rehearsing. Brian said that the dance was really great and I should try to get it produced somewhere. He said we should all go back to their place for dinner, and we did, and all had some wine and got really loose. 

By then Brian had told Tony that we had been lovers. Tony was great, we all got along very well and after dinner, Tony and Brian started hugging. Brian told me to "come here girl" and I went over to him and he started kissing me. I was a bit confused, but Brian said Tony's cool with it. 

Tony looked kind of shy and Brian and I started kissing in earnest. We were all getting very turned on and had a lot to drink by then. We all started kissing and hugging and then headed for the bedroom. Tony and Brian started making love while Brian kissed and hugged me, and eventually Brian started fucking me while Tony was fucking his mouth. It was quite fun and very erotic, and I had done nothing like that before. We made all kinds of combinations that evening, Tony licked and sucked me, I sucked both of them at once, and eventually Tony fucked me. He wore a condom and I already knew Brian was fixed so that was no problem. 

Afterward Brian said, "That was great!"

It was, and I started to see both of them for a while while I finished school. Justin was still in rehab and I visited him a few more times, but whenever I did we would fight and eventually we broke up for good. He would accuse me of terrible things while he was in rehab, of being a bitch and a whore, and just using him for his money. I would leave in tears, and after awhile I stopped going to visit him. As far as I know, he's still battling his addiction, but I can't worry about that. 

So by now I was working on my teaching credential, living in my small apartment, and had an on-going manage a trois relationship with Brian and Tony, who were great. I was relatively happy, although still a bit sad about Justin, when all hell broke loose, but that is another chapter.



Brandy Ch. 03



The continuing story of a beautiful young woman with a white mother and black father who is stunning, with long, thick brown hair, blue eyes, and mocha colored skin, tall and slender. 

*

At that point I was working on my graduate degree in teaching, and living in my small apartment in the LA area. I still saw Brian and Tony and we all had a fun, mutually satisfying relationship, but I had decided to focus on my studies and finish school. 

Then I met Leonard, someone who rocked my entire world.

I met him in a bookshop near campus when I was 21. I was poking around in the erotica section, I'm afraid I have a weakness for such things.

Leonard was and is an inventor, and has designed and patented several common household items which allows him a steady income to pursue his interests and support himself comfortably. 

In Leonard's personal life, he was into bondage and submission, and was a master, a dominant who instead of having a wife or girlfriend, would have a submissive sex slave to be his personal possession. She would be trained to serve him and give herself over to him completely. In return, she would be pampered and cared for, and would live with him and be provided for completely like a wife. But instead of a wedding ring, she would wear a slave collar.

Also, one of his strong interests is sex robots, robots that have been designed to stimulate men and women beyond human capacities. I didn't realize it but apparently there is quite a market for such things, especially in Japan. These are sex robots and sex machines that are designed specially to seduce and satisfy adult humans beyond what a normal human partner can, due to their extra-human abilities and design. 

There are many designs on the market, and you also can order custom designs. They are all very expensive, and one of the businesses Leonard has is designing and consulting for these sex robots, or sexbots as they are called. You can order a sexbot to have it custom designed to suit your own fantasies and fetishes, and you can also design their hair color, features, etc. if you wish, or have the designer surprise you. 

Of course when I first met him, we didn't tell me all this, he just walked up to me with a confident air, handed me his card, and said "You're a beautiful woman, and I'd like to get to know you better. Please call me so we can talk." He had a slight German accent and was very sure of himself. 

Now I have had many men and some women try to pick me up, and usually I ignore them all, but Leonard was different. He was an older man, with gray hair, medium tall height, and not particularly striking, but still, there was something about him. An air of lively intelligence and curiosity that I found very appealing right from the first moment I saw him. You couldn't miss it, it just exuded from him. He reminded me of one of my professors at school that I had had a crush on. I looked at his card after he left, it said Leonard Rain, inventor, and had just his cell phone number. As I watched him walk out of the bookshop, and get into his black Range Rover, I couldn't help but be drawn to him. So the next day I called, and he answered immediately.

"Hi, this is Brandy, we met yesterday in the bookstore?"

"Hi Brandy, thanks for calling. I'm Leonard, would you like to go out for a drink?" That faint German accent again. 

"OK."

I told him where I lived and he picked me up that night at 9:00.

We went for a drink at an elegant, quiet club where we could talk. He said I was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, and that he was an inventor. He was successful and this allowed him a comfortable lifestyle. One of the inventions he was working on was a sexbot, a sex robot. I asked him about it, I had never heard of such a thing. He said I should come by his house tomorrow where his lab is and see. We talked some more, I had a bit too much to drink I'm afraid, and I found him one of the most fascinating people I've ever met. 

We stayed at the club for about two hours talking. Although I would not call him a handsome man, his intelligence and independent attitude I found very attractive. He really seemed to know what he wanted out of life, and how to get it. He was confident and creative, and took the time to ask me questions about my life and relationships. I found myself telling him everything easily, and just opened up to him right away. We talked and talked, and he also started to tell me his philosophy about relationships. 

He didn't believe in marriage, but was a dominant man who liked to have women as submissive love slaves to live with him. He said when he was in love with a woman, he would collar her, which was like a wedding ring, except it denotes the kinky quality of their relationship. This way he avoided all the bullshit that went along with most marriages. Having seen my fill of lousy relationships by that time, I could agree with him. I certainly had my kinky side too, and often fantasized about bondage and submission. 

After about two hours, he dropped me off. He didn't so much as shake my hand, but just said he'll see me tomorrow at 1:00. He said he would pick me up the next day and I could come by his house and see his inventions. I was a little intimidated, I didn't usually go to someone's house that I just met, but we had really hit it off and I trusted him, although he had a very unusual lifestyle and philosophy. He said he wouldn't touch me though, we were just friends and getting to know each other at that point. 

When I got to his place the next day, he showed me all around. His house was fascinating, he lived in one half and the other was devoted to his work. He had a couple of assistants around who worked for him, a woman who did the housework and bookkeeping and another young man who was his lab assistant. They were both attractive, but very quiet, and were kind to me and made me feel comfortable.

We started going out after that, he took me out to dinner a few times at elegant restaurants, and we went to the theatre or a dance performance, since he knew I loved dancing. He was a perfect gentleman and would always drop me off with just a kiss and hug, very politely. He eventually met my parents and although they probably thought he was a too old for me, they didn't say anything and have always let me live my own life. 

After about two weeks of going out with Leonard, I started wondering what was going on. I asked him one night after dinner, are we ever going to make love? He said he was not sure I was right for him, and needed to get to know me better. We talked for a while, it turned out he wasn't sure if I was submissive enough. He said I have a very strong will and it would be hard to control that. I said well, why don't we try, you will have to teach me about bondage and submission. He said he would think about it and I didn't hear from him for a couple of days after that.

When he finally called, he said he was going to start training me to be his submissive, and I would need to do exactly as he said. He would also want me to be completely honest with him, and keep in touch with him constantly about my life and feelings. He would also need a sexual diary from me, describing whatever I did either alone or with other people. He also asked that I refrain from masturbating and not have relations with anyone else unless he gave permission. I was a bit miffed at this, but decided to go along with it and see where life led me. I certainly was attracted to him, and loved spending time with him, but neither of us knew what was going to happen.

It was exciting and arousing and a bit scary all at once.

The next morning I received a text message from him on my cell phone. It was very brief, and just said your training will start today. He told me to be ready for him to pick me up at 8:00 pm sharp. He said I was to wear something very pretty and not wear any undergarments at all. He wanted me to also wear heels and no stockings at all. Although it seemed a little unusual, I followed his requests to the letter, and found myself very turned on as I was waiting for him.

He picked me up in his black Range Rover at a few minutes after 8:00. He seemed a bit harried, and said it was a rough day in the lab. I asked him about it but he said he didn't want to talk about it in a slightly sharp tone. 

We were quiet and he said he was taking me to his place, and we would have some drinks and start my training. He said he would give me a safe word, if anything was going on that I couldn't handle, I would have to say "pineapple" and he would stop and it would be over. I said OK and we drove to his place in silence.

When we got there, we had some drinks and he put some jazz on. It was music I had never heard before, but strange and interesting. He said a friend of his composed it. I asked him if he wanted me to dance, and he said yes but requested that I undress first. After a moment's hesitation, I did, and he watched me with a strange look in his eye. I danced for a while, and then he said it was time. 

He gave me a collar to wear, a pretty silver chain, and said while I was with him I was to always have this on. It was a symbol of my submission to him, I was his to do with what he would. While I was a bit put off, I put the collar on, remembering I had a safe word and could stop at any time.

Soon he had me stand for him in front of a computer screen. He said he was scanning my body measurements for a new sexbot that he was working on. It would be called the Brandy 2, and if it was successful I would be receiving royalties from the design. It was possible that we both would make a considerable fortune from this, as they are very popular especially in Japan. I was told to stand still for about 15 minutes while all the data was collected about my body from the machine. He also asked me to lie down and spread my legs so the area between my legs could be measured and the data analyzed. I did as I was told, thinking it would be great to have the income. The thought also occurred to me that after it was manufactured, there would be thousands of men having sex with my likeness through this sexbot. The idea turned me on, shamed me, and also made me oddly proud all at once. 

After he was done collecting the data, he said to come with him. We went to the basement of his house, he had a dungeon there which was filled with bondage and domination items. There was a rack, some tables, lots of whips hanging around, some video cameras, all kinds of things. I was a little scared, but he said to trust him, he would go slow and teach me what I needed to know.

I was still completely naked except for my heels and silver collar. He asked me to go over to what appeared to be a large X-shaped device. He strapped me into the cuffs on there at my ankles and wrists. My body was now strapped to the cross, my hands and legs spread wide, and I felt completely exposed, vulnerable, and yet at the same time very, very turned on. He explained this was a Saint Andrews Cross and was used to tease and sexually torment submissives. At first I felt a bit off put there, stretched out to the hilt, with my body completely exposed, but found after awhile it was a relaxing to loose control and just let him take over. He took his time to make sure I was comfortable and told me to just relax and breathe. Then he took out a whip, which was leather and had a large leather covered cock attached to the end. At first he just ran the leather strips of the whip erotically and sensually over my body. Leonard asked me to tell him how it felt. "Good, nice." Good, he said. Then suddenly he struck me with the whip on my breasts. It was startling, coming out of nowhere like that, and it hurt but afterward my skin glowed with the stinging pleasure of his whipping me. He repeated this, all over my body, and I was soon very turned on, aroused, and in not a little pain as well. He repeated this, and then took the cock handle of the whip and inserted it into deeply into my pussy. My legs were spread on the cross and I was surprised to find that it was wet and ready for his whip's cock. He pushed it in, and began to stimulate my clit while he was fucking me with his black leather cock. I began to make the climb toward orgasm, breathing heavily and struggling in my bondage, but he stopped me, and said, quite sternly, You are not to cum until I tell you to, do you understand? Yes, I said. Yes, what? Yes, Sir. 

I was amazed at the situation I found myself. Here I was with my boyfriend, was he my boyfriend? Or boss? Completely naked, being whipped and then fucked with the cock of the whip. Yet I doubt I had ever been so turned on in my life. To add to my difficulty, he brought out a camera, and started to take pictures of me. At first I said no, Leonard, no, but he said he would be the only one to see the photos. So I began to relax and trust him, and he photographed me spread-eagled on the cross, my body still stinging from my whipping, a huge black leather cock impaled in my pussy, hanging there helpless while he photographed me. I was still quite aroused and asked if I could cum. He said, quite sternly, you are not to cum until I tell you, don't you dare. I was afraid I was not going to be able to help myself, I was very close, especially as he fucked me with the cock and teased and tormented my clit and pussy.

It went on for what seemed like hours, yet it was extremely pleasurable. It hurt, too, but was intensely arousing. Then he said he was going to have to take a conference call from Japan and he would be back in about an hour. "An hour!" "Yes, but I'll be nearby if you have a problem."

He was soon on the phone and I eventually overhead him describing my body and features in detail to the business people on the other end of the line. Apparently they were discussing the design for Brandy 2. There I was, helpless, totally aroused, bound hands and feet, and my lover/nemesis was describing me in embarrassing detail to the strangers on the other end of the phone. I started to feel like I was really getting in over my head, and began to panic. Leonard somehow sensed this immediately and put the call on hold and came over to me. 

"Are you doing OK?"

"How much longer?"

"How much longer what?"

"How much longer before I can cum, Sir?"

He smiled and said it wouldn't be long now.

He finished up the conference call, and then carefully took the whip's cock out of my cunt, unbuckled me and let me off the cross. He had to hold my arm and steady me, as I was quite unnerved and a bit off balance.

He said now he was going to fuck me, but it would be videotaped so when I'm not there he could enjoy me. I was too aroused and confused to protest, at that point I just wanted to cum, and cum badly. He did say he would be the only one to see the tape. I didn't care, I was his, and he new it. We had crossed an invisible boundary in the last few hours, and I was completely under his spell.

We headed to his bedroom, and he asked me to bring our glasses and freshen our drinks. I did, not caring who could see in through the kitchen window at my collared nakedness. We went back to his bed, and he had me suck him for what seemed like hours before he said OK fuck me now. He was on the bottom and I was on top, and he watched as I wantonly rubbed by own breasts and clit as I fucked him like the slut I was becoming. He started to get close to cuming, and said "cum now, slut." It was like a Pavlovian response, my body went into a full body, head-on orgasm, the likes of which I had never experienced before. He pulsed deep inside me and I could feel his sperm shoot up into me as my pussy pulsed and pulsed for what seemed to be forever. I was in ecstasy.

We laid there together afterward, and I was holding onto him for dear life. After a time he said clean us up, and I was told to get some tissues and clean us both off. 

Then he said to get dressed, he has some work to do, but he would call me soon.

When I got back to my apartment, I was confused. Is this what my life would be like now? Ravaged and tormented, teased and fucked within an inch of my life -- mind-blowing sex and torment all rolled up into one? Maybe this is something that wasn't for me. Still, I am not one to back off of new experiences, and I persisted with the relationship. I never did have to use my safe word, Leonard seemed to sense when I was having difficulty and would interfere beforehand. 

He did everything to me in that basement and his bedroom. Lots and lots of fucking and sucking, but I have also been beaten, hot wax was dripped on my body, paddled, lots of spanking, caned, teased with all manner of erotic toys and implements. We even played out a nasty doctor scene in which I was erotically teased using a medical speculum. We also had great vanilla sex, too, he was an excellent, tireless lover. It was all very fun, erotic, sometimes painful, sometimes just psychologically so. However, he knew, after that first time on his cross, that I was his.

This went on for two years. We had a good, albeit kinky life together. We traveled to Japan several times, and developed the Brandy 2, which is a bestseller. After a couple of months I moved in with him, although he insisted I keep my own apartment and finish my teaching credential. Then after about two years together, he told me he wanted me to get used to the idea of being shared with others, and publicly used, and he was considering getting another female slave to share our household. While the occasional public flogging and playing with others was intriguing, especially if I could have some strong drinks to counteract any natural inhibition, I could not stomach the thought of sharing him with another live-in slave. But that is another story altogether.



Brandy Ch. 03-04



Chapter 3

SHOWS

In my experience it seems that there is one, really big difference between men and women's attitude to sex. Not that it applies to all men of course and there are some women who don't fit the pattern either - but, as a general rule I think it's true. Men like a 'show', a 'production', whereas women go much more for the atmosphere created by the emotions and circumstances of the meeting.

I, for one don't fit the stereotype of a woman that I've just described - but I think most women do. Certainly nearly all the men I have met fit the mould. If I'm ever unsure as to what a man expects or wants of me, because he's too shy or too unsure of himself or just can't verbalise his needs, I'm nearly always safe if I put on a 'show' for him. Very few men fail to respond to that.

Of course lots of them know exactly what they want - some of them in minute detail - and I've had some strange requests in my time I can tell you!

One of those was quite early on, I had only been in the escort business for a short time and wasn't as experienced as I am today. So, at first it threw me a bit when I found that I was enjoying what I had been asked to do, that was when I realised just how much of an exhibitionist I can be - and just how much I can get turned on by doing it!

He said he had been given my number by a friend, most of my clients come from that sort of referral of course and he wanted to know if I was prepared to visit him at his home, rather than meet at a hotel. I said I would ring him back and, after checking my records of his friend, as I knew the suburb where he said he lived and my intuition said he was O.K., I rang back and accepted.

I asked him if there was anything he particularly wanted to tell me over the phone and he asked if I could bring with me a short, full skirt and would I please wear stockings, not pantyhose. I told him that I never wore pantyhose and that I would certainly wear a skirt that I thought he would like.

My legs are one of my best attributes and I guessed that his friend had passed on my name because of that - leg men stick together!

I took a cab - I was wearing a tight fitting, black top that showed off my breasts to their full advantage, cut low so that plenty of cleavage showed - and the driver was so keen to get an eyeful through his rear-view mirror that he nearly ran off the road a couple of times. With that I wore a very short, pleated skirt, sheer black stockings and the highest-heeled shoes I possessed. Underneath I had on a skimpy suspender belt and a pair of black, g-string panties.

I knew I looked a bit 'tarty' but guessed that that was just what the new client was looking for - and the look on his face when he opened the door told me immediately that I had been right...

His eyes nearly popped out of his head! But even though my breasts got a passing, appreciative look, like any true leg-man his eyes then dropped to stare lower. He smiled broadly and said - 'Lovely, quite lovely my dear. Please come in'.

The man was in his early fifties but he looked as though he had kept himself in pretty good shape and, from both the address and the little I had seen of the house, there didn't appear to be a shortage of money and I felt comfortable on both a personal and a financial level - that's always nice with a new client. His name was Wilton - but I was to call him Will. 'Will and Brandy', it sounded like characters in a kid's book, but as I found out soon enough, I wasn't there to play any kids' games!

He offered me a drink, which I accepted and took that opportunity to get the financial business out of the way. He made a bit of a show of telling me that he would be happy to tip me extra, later - if I was all that his friend had told him I was. I always take that line with a pinch of salt - it's amazing how many men try that on, expecting you'll perform miracles in the hope of getting something extra, which you hardly ever see. Once a man has climaxed their need to say 'thank you' seems to vanish with their erection...

When I asked him what he would particularly like me to do, he asked if I would mind walking around for him, without my panties on, in itself that's not an unusual a request. But, when I went to take them off straight away, he stopped me, saying that he had a special room where he would like me to do it. At that I began to get a bit suspicious - 'special room' sounded to me like B & D and I told him I was certainly not into that.

He laughed, assuring me that he wasn't that way inclined either and that I could be absolutely sure that I was in no physical danger at all - he just liked looking and had a room where he could see what he wanted to see, much better - if I didn't mind that.

I told him I was there for his pleasure and if looking was what pleased him then he could look at me as much as he liked - in any way and in any room that he liked. When I said that I could see that he was already starting to get excited - but he controlled himself and then apologised for his odd request.

I went into my little set speech about - how we all have these personal fantasies and needs, that so long as nobody gets hurt there is nothing wrong with wanting to fulfil them. That people like myself get far more peculiar requests than this one and that I'm very happy to be of help - most of which is actually true.

More to the point, it settled him down and, unlike most clients, he began to talk about himself - some men never do, no matter how many times you go with them, most need several meetings before they open up much but Will was different, he had a need to explain himself to me, before we started anything. He told me how he had had his fetish for as long as he could remember and that during his life he had devised all sorts of tricks to get to see up girls' and women's dresses. 

Apparently one of his earliest memories was of crawling around under his parents' dining table when they had friends for dinner, trying to see up beneath the women's' frocks. Then, when he went to school he started to get into trouble for his activities, being caught in places where he shouldn't be but from where he thought he might have a chance of looking up the dress of one of the passing girls.

But he admitted that most of his truly memorable 'sightings' had resulted from chance rather than planning. Of a girl climbing on to a bus on a windy day - revealing a quite tiny pair of flame-red panties. Of a woman falling just behind him in a shop, turning at the sound, to find himself staring straight into a naked, hairy 'quim' - as he called it.

The pleasure a young librarian had given him - he felt sure she must have had a touch of exhibitionism about her since she seemed to spend a large amount of her time on top of the ladder that gave access to the higher shelves, always wearing full skirts made of a light material, that tended to fly up in the draught caused by the opening of the entrance door. He explained that until then he had never been a great reader but his apparent appetite for books was voracious so long as she had continued to work there.

When he came into money, following his father's death, he had the idea to provide himself with a way of gratifying his needs from time to time, by building his special room. He admitted that he had got some strange comments from the various workmen - but he had told them that his daughter was a dancer and needed these things for her practice and rehearsals. He didn't think they had believed him - and in fact he wasn't even married - but he was paying them well and didn't really care what they thought.

After all that I was more than intrigued, I was actually dying to see this room of his - and said so.

Will was delighted that I had asked to see it and except for refilling our drinks, wasted no time before taking me by the arm and leading me down the corridor. The room was fairly large, perhaps twenty feet by ten, with curtain covered windows down the long, furthest wall. The two side walls were mirrored from the floor to about head high and dark, expensive wallpaper above. A parquet floor, with a large, loose rug in the centre. A single piece of furniture - a tall, very tall chair, somewhere between a baby's high chair and a tennis umpire's! Other than two speakers set high up in the corners and another door, that was it!

He saw my puzzled look and grinned gleefully, like a schoolboy who knows you'll never guess the answer to his riddle. He told me he would show me everything, when I was 'ready' - and I knew what he meant by that, after I had my panties off! But now that I knew more about his fetish I was getting what I felt sure were better plans - always try to improve on the client's idea if you can is one of my mottoes, keep them happy - and they'll keep coming back for more!

I told him that though I had no idea what he was up to or how he was going to 'stage' what he wanted me to do, he should leave the actual 'performance' to me.

'Wouldn't you rather see me both ways, with first - without, later?' I asked.

Naturally the idea appealed to him immediately and he nodded vigorously. I was to go outside again, give him a few minutes to get things ready and then, when he called, to come in and not to be surprised at what I would find.

I went out and although of course I listened at the door, I couldn't hear much except for something being moved around, a door opening and closing and then the sound of some music. But I only had to wait three or four minutes before he called out to me and I opened the door and went back in.

I couldn't believe the transformation!

The overhead light was turned right down - the main lighting now coming up from underneath the floor! A line of lights, about three feet in from each wall, forming a rectangle, each light angled inwards. In their centre, set flush with the surrounding parquetry, a highly polished mirror! All this had previously been hidden beneath the rug - now I understood how I was to help him live out his fantasy.

As I walked across the mirror the lights would shine up under my skirt, illuminating me - and he could enjoy the reflection of everything he wanted, needed to see. The mirrors on each end of the room would add a further dimension of reality to the 'show' for him.

I turned, to see him sitting up in the high-chair, looking down at me. Of course, his viewing angle would be even better from up there.

He was naked! 'You don't mind me being - being like this I mean?' he asked in a concerned tone of voice.

I told him it was his 'show' and I was there to ensure he enjoyed it - he couldn't do that properly if he was still dressed, could he. His happy expression returned. I also said that I wasn't surprised that he had got funny comments from the workmen - but that I admired his ingenuity. At which his smile widened even further for a minute or two - but then that nervous tension reappeared on his face and he asked me, almost shyly, if I would now start to walk about for him, please.

So, the 'show' began!

As, until I had entered the room for the second time I had no real idea of how the whole thing was to work I hadn't had time to think up a 'routine' for him. But I had a few ideas and I used those to get started while I continued thinking through how best to use the unusual features of the room to generate Will's fantasy. I needed to give him enough time to react to the scene, allow it to generate some anticipation, suspense, in his mind - and, presumably, arousal of his body - before the final, satisfying climax.

So I began by walking, slowly up and down the far side of the room, on the strip of parquetry between the wall and the mirror. From where Will was sitting he wouldn't be able to see anything that he couldn't out on the streets. An attractive, provocatively dressed lady, pacing to and fro.

Every now and then I stopped, looked at my watch and then off into the distance, hoping he could use those actions to create a fantasy of him watching a girl who was waiting for someone who is running late for their meeting. I knew that even without the room's 'special effects' I looked good enough and sexy enough to arouse most men and, as my legs are probably my best feature, the combination of the short skirt, sheer stockings and very high-heeled shoes should soon get Will, as a genuine leg-man, more than interested!

Without actually looking directly up at him, I kept watch for his reactions and was pleased when, out of the corner of my eye I saw one hand drop down into his lap and he began to fondle himself - my 'show' had definitely grabbed his interest.

So then I moved on to the next stage, still playing the part of a girl waiting for someone. I appeared to become more agitated, stopping every now and then and turning sharply to look around me. Of course, as I turned the skirt swirled and rose up and away from my legs, exposing a few more inches of nylon clad thigh and, when I made an even more dramatic turn, stocking tops, suspender and the pale curve of the flesh above.

Occasionally, as if by accident, I walked across the corner of the actual mirror in the floor and made one of those dramatic turns while I was on it. I doubted that Will could actually see as much as wanted to from where he was sitting but felt sure that the combination of the real me, the reflections from the side walls and the occasional flash in the floor mirror, would be steadily arousing him.

Sure enough, after two or three of those turns I caught sight of his cock for the first time. The seat of his special chair was roughly level with my head so until then his cock and balls had been shielded by his knees and thighs but now, as he had become more excited, it had become erect and I could just see its dark pink head poking up. Will was stroking the shaft almost leisurely, gliding his finger-tips up and down its still growing length.

I changed the routine again, staying on the surface of the mirror all the time, still turning in the far corner but then continuing down along the shorter side, heading towards the corner closest to where he sat, repeating my agitated turn there too. Knowing that as the angle improved the reflection of me would allow him to see even further up my legs.

After several more of those I again altered my pattern and began to actually walk across the centre of the mirror, at that point Will should be able to see virtually straight up under by skirt and catch glimpses of the tiny strip of black nylon covering my sex and the string that was embedded in the crack between my arse cheeks.

As I went into each twisting turn I tried to keep my legs a little apart, knowing that although it might look a bit awkward, Will's improved view up me would more than make up for that. After a bit of that routine I finally stopped, directly in front of him - my legs splayed wide, hands on hips, pelvis and breasts thrust forward - and looked straight up into his eyes for the first time.

His face was tense, flushed, his eyes staring down into the mirror beneath me, getting his first really good look at me. His cock had grown to what appeared to be its full size, thin but long - its head now a darker colour and, as I watched him staring at my sex I saw his fingers tighten their grasp and begin to pump it.

Then I turned my back on him, taking up the same stance, giving him time to enjoy the other aspect of the view of me. Holding that pose for a while before walking away from him, to the far corner of the room, where I discretely, without giving him the satisfaction of even a brief glimpse, stripped off the g-string and ostentatiously dropped it to the floor

Basically I repeated my earlier routine - but took less time on each stage of it, judging from the look of him that Will wasn't going to take too much longer to reach his point of no return - and I already had a 'finale' in mind for that!

I was feeling good. I always like the sense of freedom I get when I have no panties on and I found that I was reacting to what was for me, a new situation - exhibiting myself like that - with a very pleasant, tingling sensation. My breasts felt sensitive and I knew my nipples had become erect, the tightness of my thin top grazing, almost bruising them as they continued to swell as I moved sensuously around the mirror. There was also a growing warmth between my thighs and I could tell that my pussy-lips were starting to become puffy and moist from the steadily increasing wetness inside me.

Now, as I walked, turned, posed, I kept my eyes on Will, gauging his reaction to his views of my bare sex, increasing the number of turns and poses I did immediately in front of him - seeing the effect of his now swiftly growing tension in both the expression on his face and the faster, jerky pumping of his cock.

Then, as I was strutting slowly across the mirror towards him I heard a small, squealing grunt - and somehow knew he was about to climax. Given that warning I was able to time my last move perfectly, which I certainly wouldn't have been able to do if I hadn't heard that sound.

Instead of just stopping in front of him I did a series of fast spins, so that my skirt flared right up level with my waist and he could see all of me, not just the reflection. Then, as I stopped I went back into the splay-legged position - but, as I thrust out my pelvis, I also lifted up my skirt, so he could see me both ways, in the reflection -and in the flesh!

His eyes flicked up and down from the real me to the even more revealing image below, that I knew must include the now wet pinkness of my pouting pussy.

He exploded with a series of gasping groans. His hand, flashing up and down the shaft of his cock sent the cum jetting up and out in an arc, to land on the floor beneath him. Even at that final moment, although his face was contorted from the force of the sensations ripping through him, he didn't close his eyes, they bulged but continued to stare down at the reflection of my sex in the mirror.

Afterwards, when he had dressed and we had returned to the other room to sit quietly with a drink, he thanked me - verbally and with a generous tip - for the wonderful experience I had given him. I appreciated both the words and the money, as I have said before - not many men actually remember to do that.

I asked him if he was satisfied, not actually having had sex with me. I still remember his gentle smile as he said that what he had experienced in his head was, for him far better than any 'normal' act of sex he could imagine.

I understood what he meant - the brain really is the most powerful of all our erogenous zones!

He rang me fairly regularly, every two or three months for the next year or so - I developed some interesting and obviously totally satisfying variations on my 'show' for him. Then there were simply no more phone calls - I have no idea what happened to Will, presumably he simply found a new, even better 'showgirl'.

But the idea of needing the stimulation of some sort of a 'show' affects different men in different ways of course - some men, like Will are quite happy just being voyeurs, the girl is a sort of live picture-show, what goes on in their head is more than enough stimulation for their need. However, there are others for whom the 'show' is merely the curtain-raiser, these sort of men need both the girl and the man himself to take on - and for a time at least - actually play the parts.

Chapter 4

THE SCHOOL-TEACHER

I suppose a good example of what I mean was Frank - but who I more frequently think of as 'The School-teacher'. I couldn't say he was a typical client because I found myself physically enjoying our times together and that isn't usual at all - but what he wanted was a reasonably typical example of what I'm talking about, in his case the 'show'-girl had to also be a 'school'-girl. He'd got my name and number from a business colleague, called me and explained what he wanted and as that involved me wearing a school-girl's uniform it meant I'd have to change when I got to his hotel room - wandering through a hotel lobby dressed like that tends to attract unwanted attention from the staff.




Brandy Ch. 03-04



So once he'd let me in and we had got the financial business out of the way I popped into the bath-room and started on the transformation. I had already put my hair up in a pony-tail and kept my make-up to a minimum so I really only had to change clothes. When I'm playing that role, whether it's in a proper uniform or just a young, more casual outfit I nearly always wear white under-wear beneath it - virginal looking, plain white cotton, then white ankle socks and the uniform itself. The one I'd chosen that day was a simple frock style, with buttons all the way down the front and I purposely left a couple of those, one at the top and another at the bottom, undone.

After a quick check in the mirror I went back into the other room, wearing my head-down, shy little school-girl expression, to find that he'd moved some of the furniture around, setting a table and chair in the middle of the room, presumably for me to sit at, with one of the low arm-chairs shifted so he could sit facing me. He was standing with his back to me, gazing out of the window but when he heard the bath-room door open he turned and from the expression that briefly flitted across his face I could tell that he really liked what he saw - but the look was gone in a flash and in his voice I heard an unmistakable note of authority.

'Sit down please.' he said unemotionally, maintaining his steady stare as I settled myself behind the make-shift desk, folded my hands primly in my lap and then finally looked up into his eyes.

He'd either been through the routine before, with other girls or he'd given it a great deal of thought because when he started he sounded just like most of the school-teachers I'd ever had.

'Social Science - today we are looking at the subject of Relationships - and I hope you've done the necessary reading - but then we'll soon find that out, won't we.

Relationships - a complex issue, both as a subject and in reality, in real life that is - as I'm sure you have already found out for yourself, in your own, personal relationships - with your parents, other relatives, friends - and especially with friends of the opposite sex. The nature of each one of these relationships is different, you treat and in turn expect to be treated quite differently by members of the different groups. You don't expect - and wouldn't want your friends to treat you the same way that your parents do - and you certainly don't want friends of the opposite sex to treat you like that, do you?'

'No sir.' I responded when he paused and stared down at me.

'No sir.' he repeated. 'Good. So, what are some of the things that cause the differences between these relationships?' He paused, as though waiting for my answer - so I said the first thing that came into my head.

'Duty and responsibility, sir.'

'Duty - yes. Responsibility - certainly. Very good Brandy, I see you have done at least some of the reading. Now, what else?'

'Sex! Sir.'

I wasn't sure whether the expression on his face was caused by him trying to control a smile, or by his supposed indignation - whichever it was, he managed it very well, responding almost as quickly as I had.

'By sex, do you mean gender or activity Brandy?'

I thought for a moment before I answered. 'Both sir. Relationships between a daughter and her mother or an aunt have an affinity that just can't be there with a father or an uncle. And a couple that are sexually active obviously have something extra in their relationship with each other that they simply can't have in relationships with their ordinary friends.'

'True, that's very good, I can see you have done your preparation very thoroughly.' Now, this sexually active couple - does their activity make their relationship easier to maintain - or more difficult?' As he asked the question and waited for my reply, he moved across to the arm-chair and settled himself down in it.

It was only then that I realised he had been even smarter than I had given him credit for. The arm-chair was lower than the one I was sitting on, the table I was using as a desk had no modesty panel on the front of it - and as he settled himself down I realised that he had already worked out that from that angle he would, with a bit of luck be able to see up between my legs. Remembering just why I was there, as the questions and answers continued I did what I could to improve whatever view he was getting by letting my bottom slip a little further forward on the seat of the chair and easing my legs further apart.

'Much more difficult, sir'

'Why do you say that?'

'Well sir, for one thing there is something extra in their relationship - an extra pressure - so it is more complicated. For another, there are risks involved, jealousy, loss. Then on top of that, there's the need to, to perform.'

By then his eyes were concentrated on what he could see beneath the table and as I made yet another adjustment to the way I was sitting, he stared even harder as he asked.

'Perform? What do you mean by, perform Brandy?'

'Well sir, in a non-sexual relationship you can sometimes just be yourself, you know - a bit sloppy, scruffy, careless. But in a sexually-active relationship you always have to not only look your best but also be vibrant and exciting.' I paused, knowing that he knew I was going to add something else, at the same time dropping one hand down on to my knee, slowly stroking the inside of my thigh above it and easing the hem of my dress further up as I continued. 'And of course you always have to seem to be not only available whenever your partner wants you - but also at least appearing to want him to want you.'

He was watching what my hand was doing beneath the table so intently that he remained silent for quite a while and I wasn't sure whether or not he had actually taken in what I'd said - but, finally tearing his eyes briefly away from the improving view up my between my legs, he continued.

'That sounds as though you are speaking from experience rather than from the reading you've done Brandy. Is that correct?'

'Yes sir.'

'I see. You find a relationship that includes sexual activity harder to maintain than one that doesn't?'

'Yes sir.'

'And tell me, have you had many such relationships so far?'

'A couple sir.' I answered in my best 'shy little school-girl' voice.

'A couple.' he repeated and again he paused, shifting himself in the arm-chair, which I guessed was to make a little more room for his cock as it responded to both what he could see and to what was going on inside his head. 'With boys from the school?'

'One was sir, the others were from another school.'

'So there have been more than two.'

'Yes sir, three or four actually.'

'Three or four - all with boys of your own age?'

'So far sir.'

By that stage I'd managed to get my dress almost all the way back and guessed that gave him an unobstructed view up my legs to the spotlessly white panties at their apex. As the word-game went on I continued brushing one hand slowly up and down my thighs and used the other to lightly stroke the cotton covering the bulge above my sex.

'So far - and just what does that mean Brandy?'

I waited a while before answering, as though the school-girl was hesitant, unsure of whether she should answer truthfully or not - and saw that his eyes remained glued on what I was doing with my fingers - then finally broke the silence by saying. 'It means that I get the feeling that I'm ready for a relationship with an older man now. I think it would be more rewarding and maybe less complicated.'

His eyes didn't move from what he could see beneath the table and I could tell from the tense expression on his face that my little show had really got to him - his rising excitement also showed in the throaty catch in his voice when he asked. 'And may I ask if you have any particular man in mind?'

Again I paused before answering and when I did it was in half whispering, shy little voice. 'Well, I had sort of hoped - I mean - that is. Well I've always admired you sir.' I finally blurted out.

'Me?' he answered in mock surprise, dropping one hand to his crotch and fumbling with himself. 'I'm very flattered of course - but why me Brandy?'

I kept my voice low as I answered. 'As I said, I've always admired you sir. Not just as a teacher, as a person - you're considerate and always fair - and you're an attractive man, sir.'

'Attractive? To a girl of your age Brandy?'

'Oh yes sir. I think you're very attractive.'

'In what way do you find me attractive?'

'Intellectually - and physically too sir.'

'I can perhaps understand your attraction to an older man's intellect, his position of authority - perhaps power - but physically too?'

'Oh yes sir. In fact there have been many times when I've found myself starting to get wet during your classes - if you know what I mean.'

'I certainly know exactly what you mean Brandy. You mean sexually aroused. I've really done that to you?'

'Yes sir - and to some of the other girls too.'

'Others!'

'Well at least two other girls that I know of.'

'I'm flattered - and amazed. From what you say do I understand that some of you talk about me amongst yourselves?'

'Quite often sir.'

'About what?'

'All sorts of things - but usually about which of us seem to be your favourite at the time - and what it would be like.'

'What would be like?'

'Being fucked by you, sir.' I answered bluntly.

'You actually talk about that?'

'Oh yes sir.'

'How odd, discussing it amongst yourselves I mean.'

'Girls are like that - we talk about everything, not just you sir.'

'Yes, yes, I understand that - it still seems strange, to a man I mean.'

'I suppose it does sir.'

'And what exactly do you talk about - I mean, how do you imagine it happening?'

'Rather like this actually sir. Being kept back after school I mean. We've tried getting detentions from you but up until today you've always given us some other form of punishment. The others couldn't believe my luck when they heard you tell me to come back.'

'Then what do you imagine happens?'

'Again, something like this really - I give you a chance to have a look at me, see that it excites you - the talk eventually gets around to sex - and I find a way of telling you how much I want to feel your cock inside me.'

'You deliberately exposed yourself the way you have just to see if you could turn me on?'

'Yes sir. I wasn't sure just how much you could see - but I felt sure that however much it was, you liked what you saw. Was I right, sir?'

'You were certainly right about that Brandy. You have a very lovely body and the way you let me see up your legs, as though by accident, was extremely stimulating - and still is. I like being able to see you touching yourself in that way too.' he added as his eyes dropped back to watch the way my fingers still slowly drifted over the fleshy mound of my sex.

'Would you like to be able to see more of me sir?'

'Yes, yes please Brandy, I'd like that very much.' he answered quickly, again adjusting himself.

Lifting my bottom off the chair I pulled the panties over my hips then down and off, re-settling myself further forward on the seat of the chair, with my legs spread even wider apart. Then undid the buttons down the front of the dress and let the two halves hang beside me before returning my hands to what they had been doing between my thighs.

He stared long and hard, his face had become quite flushed and I could see he was having even more trouble finding a comfortable position for his cock.

'Why don't you take some things off too sir, you'd be much more comfortable.'

'Would you like me to Brandy?'

'Yes please sir.'

He remained sitting in the chair and continued talking and watching me as he began to undress.

'Have you seen an adult penis before, when it's erect I mean?'

'Not properly sir.'

'What does that mean?'

'I've spied on my parents a few times, you know, when they're fucking - but I've never been able to see it clearly.'

'Did that excite you, watching them?'

'Oh yes sir.'

'And what did you do about that?'

'I got myself off sir.'

'You masturbated yourself?'

'Yes sir.'

'Do you do that often Brandy?'

'Quite a bit sir.'

'And do you let your boy-friends do that for you too?'

'Some of them, sometimes.'

'Is that better than doing it yourself?'

'Sometimes - but usually they're too rough, too quick. That's one of the reasons I wanted to go with an older man, someone more experienced, who had a better idea of what a girl likes.'

'And you think I will?'

'I'm hoping so sir.' I answered with a grin.

By then he'd got everything off except his trousers and when he finally stood up and took of those and then his under-pants too, I saw that I'd been right about the state of his cock. It was rock-hard, inflamed and quivered with the pressure that the scenario we'd created between us had built-up inside him.

I stared at it as I imagined a young girl might, letting my face show a mixture of excitement and awe, tinged with just a little apprehension.

'It's very big sir.' I said in an anxious whisper.

'Do you think so Brandy? I'm sure it's not really that much bigger than your boy friends' have been.'

'It looks much bigger sir. You won't hurt me, will you?'

'Of course I won't, everything will be fine. Now let me come and help you undress too, so I can see you properly.'

He walked around behind me and as I'd already undone all the buttons he only had to slip the dress off my shoulders and arms, leaving me wearing just the bra. I heard him sigh with pleasure as he looked down at the swell of my breasts then felt his warm breath and lips brushing over my shoulders, kissing the soft skin in the curve of my neck. Having let him do that for a minute or two I leaned forward a little, so he could get at the fastening of my bra and after fumbling with the catch for a moment or two he slipped that off me too.

'Beautiful, quite beautiful Brandy. You are an extremely lovely girl.' he said quietly as he saw my breasts for the first time. Of course they weren't the breasts of a seventeen year old but what they may have lacked in teen-age freshness was more than made up for by their firm, mature fullness and from the way he murmured to himself as his hands cupped and gently fondled them it was clear that they more than met his expectations and needs.

After a while he let one hand slip down across my stomach and I felt his fingers lightly brushing over and around my sex. He was very good at it, knew just how to stimulate a woman, teasing the soft, moist folds, gently probing between them but, at that stage carefully avoiding the sensitive ridge of my clitoris above. With one hand continuing to fondle each breast in turn, his fingers sometimes rolling and nipping the stiffening nipples and the other so expertly playing with my pussy, I soon found myself getting genuinely aroused - something that doesn't happen that often when I'm with a client.

'Aah! That's nice isn't it?' he whispered in my ear as he felt me responding to his caresses. 'I'm glad to see I haven't lost my touch Brandy.'

'So am I, sir.' I managed to gasp as I squirmed about on the chair.

'But that chair's not very practical.' he added as he slipped his hands up to my arm-pits and pulled me to me feet. 'Sit up on the desk instead please.'

I did as he suggested, then he had me lie back, with my legs dangling over the edge of the table - he knelt between them, lifted my feet up on to his shoulders then, gently holding my thighs apart with his soft hands, re-started on my pussy, that time using his mouth and tongue, which was of course even more arousing. But he still avoided directly stimulating my clit, until he was sure I was close to climaxing, when he finished me off with a series of delicious flicks with his tongue.

Having taken me to that climax he stood and began fucking me with his cock, which felt as though it had got even bigger during the time he'd been taking care of my pussy. He took his time, carefully watching my reactions, increasing the speed and force of his thrusting only when he thought that my body was beginning to work-up to yet another climax - but once he saw I'd reached that point his actions became so powerful that to stop myself from being shoved right off the table, I had to hold on to the edges of it really tightly.

When he finally exploded, the sensations caused by the hard mass of his cock pistoning deep inside my sex triggered another, smaller climax that continued to ripple through me as he emptied himself with a series of shuddering blasts.

Later, after we had showered, as I couldn't deny that he'd managed to give me a really satisfying climax and he said he'd like to arrange another time with me, for a repeat of the pleasure I had given him, I accepted his offer and stayed on for a drink. That's when I learned that he wasn't and never had been a school-teacher, he was actually fairly high-up in a bank - but he'd always fantasised about the opportunities and temptations a teacher might have. Even so, I was the first escort-girl he'd ever had the nerve to call and he'd been even more surprised than I had been to find out that I had enjoyed the experience almost as much as he had - and said he could hardly wait for our next 'lesson' together.

After chatting for a while we agreed a date for our second meeting - for which he actually paid in advance - and I left, wondering if I had done the right thing by accepting a second booking, recognising that I risked breaking the first rule of the business - 'Never get involved with a customer.' Not that Frank had aroused any emotional response in me, I liked him but that was all - but the fact that he had been able to reach me so strongly, physically, was quite enough to give me some concern.

But, having accepted the cash and feeling sure that my body wouldn't let me down so surprisingly a second time, a couple of weeks later, I kept the appointment.

He had told me that for our second meeting he'd like to take on the role of an English Literature teacher, which I said had been a subject I had not done very well in at school. But he'd laughed and promised there'd be no tests or exams, it was just that he'd always had a particular fantasy about such a class and he thought I would play the pupil's role perfectly. In spite of his assurance I couldn't help feeling a little apprehensive as I made my way up to his hotel room but when he opened the door and I saw just how pleased he was to see me, my spirits lifted.

As he closed the door behind us he said. 'Welcome to our special class Kim.'

'Kim' - just who was I supposed to be I wondered, until he continued. 'Your sister told me that you're having a lot of difficulty with this subject and I'm very pleased to see that you're prepared to invest some of your own time to improve your understanding. I'm sure you'll get ahead in leaps and bounds after just a little private tuition. I'll certainly do my best to help you.

Now, I'm sure you'll want to change after whatever else you've been doing so I'll leave you to do that while I finish preparing the lesson. Join me in the class-room as soon as you're ready please.'

He'd swung straight into fantasy mode - and his approach picked me up and carried me along with it, so I slipped into the bath-room and hurriedly changed out of my street clothes and into my school-girl outfit. I'd chosen a different one that time, a skirt and blouse, the skirt ended just above the knee, leaving plenty of leg showing but the blouse buttoned right up to my neck. However, underneath I wore decidedly non-uniform under-wear, a half-cup bra that lifted by breasts even higher than their natural firmness did and which left the nipples and the flesh above them completely exposed and in place of the cotton pants I'd worn the previous time, to complement the tiny bra, I'd chosen a white g-string that just barely covered my sex.




Brandy Ch. 03-04



I did my hair and make-up slightly differently to the way I had done it the previous time, enhancing the difference between Brandy and Kim and having satisfied myself that I'd transformed myself into something that, at least on the outside looked like a demure teen-ager, I went through to the other room and saw that Frank had created an even more realistic setting than the previous time. The room was bigger than the one he'd had before and on one side was one of those white-boards they use at conferences, in front of which was a stand with an overhead projector on it. In the middle of the room was a table and chair, which were obviously meant to again serve as my 'desk', so while he finished sorting out some papers beside the projector, I went to my place and sat down.

He looked up briefly and smiled as he saw me settling myself, then returned to finish what he'd been doing, leaving me sitting there in silence for a few minutes. I wasn't sure just what role he wanted me to play, from the change of name it was clearly not to be a continuation of the previous time so all I could do was wait and see what clues he gave me. But I didn't have to wait long, once he'd finished whatever it was he'd been doing he straightened up and said.

'Again, welcome Kim. I hope you find the lesson as helpful and satisfying as I think Brandy found hers. You are twins aren't you?'

'That's right sir. She's the elder, by about fifteen minutes.' I answered, seeing him smile at my immediate understanding of the scenario he had in mind.

'It's unusual for twins to go to separate schools isn't it?'

He was referring to the uniform of course, the fact that I was wearing something different to the last time, I thought quickly and answered.

'Yes but although we are twins and think very much alike about many things, the course at my school is better than the one running at Brandy's, for what I eventually hope to do.'

'I see. Now, to work. Most pupils that have trouble with this subject do so because they simply don't understand the language being used. That's not surprising really, let me demonstrate what I mean.'

He turned on the projector then walked over to a nearby switch and turned off the main light, leaving the room lit by just a couple of concealed tubes and the projector's beam. On the screen were columns of words and phrases and as I glanced quickly over them I saw what he'd meant - reading across the board, in some of them the words or phrases were different but had similar meanings, in others the same word had quite different meanings written beneath them. Many of the expressions seemed old-fashioned, the sort of things my parents or, grandparents might say, others in the columns on the far right, were far more up to date.

'The word 'gay' is a very good example of what I mean.' he said, pointing to the word and the definition that was written about half way down the left hand column. 'In Charles Dickens' time, late nineteenth century, the word meant 'prostitute' - a gay lady was a 'lady of easy virtue', as they preferred to say, if they even mentioned such a thing of course. Then by the 1920s and 30s it had come to mean fun, which it still does to some extent, 'everyone was feeling really gay and so the party was a great success'. But of course it is now much more commonly accepted as meaning 'homosexual' - if I said to you Kim that everyone at the party was gay, you would put quite a different interpretation on what I meant than your grandparents might.

Do you see what I mean?'

'Oh yes sir. I hadn't known that gay had meant 'prostitute' though.'

'There's no reason why should, unless you read the eighteenth and nineteenth century writers, then you would need to know that or you wouldn't understand what the author meant, you'd have a completely different understanding wouldn't you?'

'Yes sir.'

'So, reading - and understanding what the author means requires an understanding of the language the author is using, not the one we use ourselves today. The words may well be the same but the meanings given to those words have changed in the interim and may now be quite different.'

He went on to explain other, similar changes that had happened to meanings of words and phrases and how others had almost completely disappeared from everyday language and I found myself getting really interested and quite involved in what he was telling me. But as we worked our way down the lists I noticed that towards the bottom of them, below the word 'gay', the words all had sexual connotations and that the right hand column had been left blank.

'We've already covered the word 'gay', now let's see what we can do ourselves, to fill in some of these blank spots.

You'll see how descriptions of parts of the body and various sexual activities have suffered more changes than most other words - as attitudes and moral standards have swung backwards and forwards, sometimes being more free and open, sometimes more puritanical.

Let's start with 'breast' - do you see how the other, more colloquial words used to describe a woman's breast have changed over time?'

'Yes sir. Some of them sound funny.' I answered as I read the words he'd listed in the left-hand and middle columns.

'Yes they do sound funny, but some of them survive, even if in altered forms, 'boobies' and 'titties' for instance, we still use variations of those words, we use 'boobs' and 'tits' don't we.'

'Yes sir.'

'So we can write those two in our right hand column, O.K.?'

'Yes sir.' I replied as he turned to write the words on the board.

'Now, you tell me what word you use most frequently to describe these other parts and actions.'

Of course I had no more idea than he had as to what language a real school-girl would use - but that wasn't the point of the game, the point was to develop a sexy atmosphere between the two of us and as I gave what I thought might be appropriate answers he busily wrote them up on the board. I thought I'd done rather well, the list had grown to be quite long, including things like 'going down on' in place of 'cunnilingus', which I discovered had earlier been called 'gamahauching' and 'butt fucking' for 'anal sex', which earlier had been known simply as the 'forbidden love' - and a whole range of other sexual activities.

I found I was getting increasingly caught-up and genuinely interested in the process, when he suddenly stopped writing and turned around to face me.

'If you don't mind me saying so, you seem to have a remarkable knowledge of these things Kim - for someone as young as you are I mean. Is that usual these days?'

'I think so sir.' I answered, quickly slipping back into my teen-age role and voice. 'Most of my friends would answer the same way, there are a few who are a bit straight-laced but most of us know all about these things.'

'I appreciate that you all cover sex in formal classes these days - but I'm sure many of the things we've written on the board aren't covered in those, you must talk amongst yourselves, with your sister perhaps. Do you discuss these things with her?'

'Sometimes sir.'

'I see. We were discussing relationships during the class I had for her - and in the course of that she admitted that she had been sexually active for some time, that would certainly help to explain things. Do you mind me asking if you are too Kim - sexually active I mean?'

'Sort of - but not to the same extent as Brandy is.'

'May I ask why not?'

'The girls are different at my school, a bit more prim and proper than at Brandy's. It's funny - but the peer-group pressure's quite a bit different.'

'I see. But I imagine that makes things easier for you, Brandy was saying that relationships that involve sex are more difficult to cope with, so with exam results being as important as they are, you must appreciate not having to handle that extra pressure.'

'I wouldn't say that sir. I wouldn't mind having to handle it at all.' I answered with a shy grin.

'By 'handle it' - do you mean a boy's genitals?'

Feigning a sudden attack of embarrassment I looked down as I mumbled an even quieter 'Yes sir, that and other things.'

'Other things? What sort of other things Kim?'

'You know sir, what you did for Brandy.'

'Aah! So, do I understand that Brandy told you everything about what happened between us?'

'Yes sir - well, some of it anyway. We're twins remember, we share most things - or we have up until now.'

'By that I assume you feel you haven't been able to share the same sexual experiences as Brandy has.'

'But I'd like to - at least some of them.'

'Which are they Kim?'

'The best ones sir.'

'And which are they?'

'With you sir.' I whispered.

'I see. So, do I understand that you want to experience something of what Brandy and I did?'

'Yes sir.'

'But Brandy knew me from school, you've never met me before.'

'But I feel I know you well sir, Brandy never stops talking about you - and how she's felt about you, so it's as though I've known you for ages too.'

'And like Brandy you want to extend your sexual experience, with an older man?'

'It's a bit different for me sir. As I said, things are different at my school.'

'You don't mean to say you're still a virgin Kim?'

Even I couldn't pretend that of course, so I answered. 'Not technically sir, there has been one boy - but it was at a party, we'd both had a bit too much to drink and - well it was all over so quickly, I don't remember anything about it at all.

But more importantly, there are things about men that I want to learn - and Brandy said that as you'd been so good with her, she felt sure you'd be the right man to show me.' I added, setting up the scenario I'd had in mind for our time together.

'What sort of things Kim?'

'How best to please a man, sexually I mean. I know what to do, in theory - but I want to be sure that when I meet a boy that I really like a lot, I'll do it well, not just fumble around and hope for the best - if you know what I mean.'

'That's what you meant when you talked about not minding having the opportunity to 'handle it'?'

'Yes sir.'

'I see, you want to 'handle' me - my cock?'

'Yes please sir - and, as I said, other things too.'

'What other things?'

'With my mouth sir.'

'You want to 'go down' on me, give me a 'blow job'?' He asked as he turned and pointed to the words he'd written on the board behind him.

'Yes sir.'

'That's a very exciting thought Kim. But first I need an erection don't I.'

'Yes sir.'

'Any ideas about that?'

'I could handle you sir.'

'Yes you could do that - and I'm sure that would be exciting too. But how about something a little different? To start with anyway.'

'What do you have in mind sir?'

'Well when I was taking Brandy through her lesson she did her best to distract me.'

'I know sir, she told me what she did - and the reaction she got from you.'

'Yes, I'm quite sure she would have Kim. Well, because of the way this class-room is set up, with the light from the projector in my eyes, I haven't been able to see you properly, I don't know if you've been up to similar tricks.'

'I haven't sir - for one thing I've been too interested in what you've been explaining to me.'

'That's very gratifying to hear. But you see Brandy had created a head start for us - unlike that time, right now I'm afraid my poor little cock isn't much to look at. I thought you might like to help me help myself bring it up to a respectable size, before you start your practice I mean.'

'How sir?'

'Well if we changed places, I could look at you, standing in the light from the projector, as you undress I mean. I'm sure that would quickly have the desired result.'

'Nice idea!' I thought to myself, thinking that I would have dressed quite differently, worn my 'stripper's' outfit, if he'd given me a clue about what he'd had in mind - but then realised that of course that would have been out of character for the school-girl he wanted.

'Now sir?' I asked as I got up.

'Why not - just let me get out of my things before you start.' he answered as he began to quickly unbutton and unzip himself.

When he was stripped I saw that his cock wasn't quite as diminutive as he'd made out, it was already partially erect - not yet stiff, but already quite long and fat. Then, as he shifted the table to one side and sat down, I moved round into the beam from the projector.

The brilliance blinded me for a minute or two but as my eyes adjusted to it I found that in fact I could see him reasonably clearly and saw that he had cupped his balls with one hand and made a loose fist around his cock with the other.

Although I've become something of an expert at stripping during the time I've been in the business, I had to remember that for him I was supposed to be an almost virginal seventeen year-old, not an experienced escort-girl, so I made out I was shy and a bit embarrassed by the situation I was in. Standing quite still, with my head lowered, I slowly fumbled with the buttons down the front of my blouse and when I had them all undone I held the bottom edges together, keeping most of my breasts covered but letting him see the cleavage between them. Then, as though unsure what to do next I looked down at my feet and, while still trying to hold my blouse together with one hand, I lifted my foot and struggled to get the shoe off. In doing that I wobbled on one leg, knowing that as I did that and my blouse flapped about, he'd be able to catch a few brief glimpses of my breasts.

As I repeated the same manoeuvre with the other foot a movement caught my eye and sneaking a quick look I saw that his hand was fondling the slowly growing length of his cock - I was starting to get to him with my apparently fumbling performance.

Seeing that, once I had both shoes off I finally let go of my blouse and as I bent to pick them up I heard him give a small sigh as the material swung away, giving him his first, clear view of my breasts and the way the half-bra lifted and presented them for him. Hearing that sound I looked up and saw his hand sliding up and down the length of his rapidly stiffening cock. Then, straightening up again I turned, so I had my back to him and keeping my legs straight, I bent over to put the shoes down beside the bed, knowing very well that in that position the short skirt would have ridden up high enough for him to see my bared bottom.

Turning around to face him again, as I slipped the blouse off my shoulders I saw that his cock had grown even more and that his fingers were toying with the quickly bulging head, lightly slipping over and around it and even in the dim light beyond the projector I could see that the skin had already become taut and glossy. I stood still for a few moments, watching him staring at me, at my breasts.

Then I unzipped the skirt and instead of simply easing it over my hips and letting it drop to the floor, I took it by the hem and slowly lifted it, exposing my thighs, then the small, white triangle that hid my sex and finally pulled it up, right up over my head. Having thrown it carelessly to one side I reached behind my back, unfastened the bra and let it fall from me, then stood there for him to enjoy looking at him for a minute or two before I wriggled my way out of the g-string and, then completely naked, finally moved out of the glare of the light and walked towards him.

'Beautiful, you're quite beautiful - Kim.' he said, his hand continuing to slowly work on the mass of his cock as I approached. I stood immediately in front of him for a few moments, watching his hand stroking up and down the shaft, then moved closer, spread his legs further apart, knelt between them and looked up into his eyes.

'I don't know about that sir - but something seems to have done the trick - it's enormous. I never imagined it could get as big as this.' I said as I reached out and tentatively touched the silky smooth skin of the swollen head with my finger-tips. 'What should I do now sir?' I asked shyly.

'First, make sure you are in a comfortable position, you don't want whatever you are doing to be interrupted by a sudden attack of cramps.'

I had already done that of course but I made a show of re-settling myself then looked up with an attentive expression as he continued. 'Now, slip one hand underneath, so you can fondle my balls - in a little while, as I get more aroused, you'll feel them tightening, when they ride high up beneath the cock that's a sure sign that a man's getting close to his climax.'

As he withdrew his own hand I replaced it with mine, curling my fingers under the swollen sac and gently rolled and fondled the balls inside it. He moaned softly as he felt my light touch then went on. 'Use the other hand to stroke my cock - there are an infinite number of ways of doing that, none of them right or wrong, it just depends on how you and the man are feeling. Sometimes a light touch, sometimes a firm grasp, fast or slow, long pumping motions or little short ones.'

Again I replaced his hand with mine, feeling the hot hardness of his cock as I closed my fingers around the shaft just below the swollen head and slowly slid them down towards its base, feeling it surge within my fingers and seeing his body immediately tense in reaction to the wave of pleasure that I sent coursing through him. 

'Don't just stick to the one type of movement.' he said as he cleared his throat. 'Try varying them a bit, watch the man's reaction to what you are doing, that's your best guide.'

'I see - and what about taking it in my mouth? I asked as I tightened my grip a little. Adding, as I began to slide my hand slowly up and down the full length of him. 'I can't wait to try that.'

'Same thing really Kim, men will like you to do that different ways at different times.' he managed to answer in a hoarse voice, as his reaction to what I was doing to his cock grew steadily stronger. 'Sometimes keep your lips tight around just the head of it and sort of bob your mouth up and down, sometimes open right up and take the whole thing as far down your throat as you can manage.'

'And should I make the man come or just use this as a way of getting him fired-up before he actually makes love - I mean, fucks me?' I asked - and, as he answered, slowing then finally stopping my stroking actions, giving it small, encouraging squeezes instead, keeping it hard but reducing the strength of his reactions.

'That depends on the situation Kim - and how you feel too.' he answered. 'You'll just have to use your own judgement about that. But remember that as well as getting a man 'fired-up', as you put it, before having sex - using your mouth is a great way of re-arousing him afterwards, if you fancy a second helping I mean. A lot of men like having their cock sucked when it's still limp, before you've done anything else - and that's especially exciting when the two of you have been resting after having had sex. Just remember to give him sufficient recovery time, don't expect him to be able to get a second erection instantly.'

'How long should I give him?'

I could tell from the tone in his voice that he was having difficulty concentrating on the role he had created for himself - but even though the thrills I had generated for him were making him increasingly tense, he answered. 'I'm afraid that's also impossible to say, it's so variable, from man to man and from day to day - and how fit or tired he is. It depends on how old he is too - younger men generally recover more quickly of course. So many things make a difference - men aren't like women though, they can't just keep going on and on.'

'I understand that.' I said and heard him groan softly as I gently squeezed his balls with one hand and began sliding the other tightly down his shaft again, feeling it throbbing heavily from the fresh blood pulsing up into it as I added. 'It seems a bit unfair really - for both men and women I mean. It can't be very nice getting all steamed-up, only to find that the man is exhausted long before you are - and there must be lots of times when a man really wants to go on, then finds out that he just can't.'




Brandy Ch. 03-04



He managed a low chuckle. 'Very true Kim. That's one reason why you should never be in too much of a rush to climax, take your time, savour the sensations you are feeling. Uh! Enjoy watching your lover's reactions to what you are doing for him. Urgh! In short, make the most of it - get the most out of and put the most you can into each single encounter. Urrggh!'

His words were punctuated by low grunts as I tightened my grip and began to pump the hard mass more strongly, seeing an increasing flow of pre-cum appear out of the eye in the centre of the dark purple head. Without letting my hand miss a beat I leaned forward and licked them up, tasting its saltiness, then slowly lapped the entire head, swirling my tongue over and around it, as though it were a lollipop, his hips thrusting himself up off the seat of chair in response to the electric thrills that sent shooting through him.

'Shit! It's no good, I can't hold it back Kim!' he said through tightly clenched teeth.

Not that he had to tell me that - I had already felt the signs of his rapidly approaching climax. His balls had ridden higher, shrunk tight up against the base of his cock, the shaft had expanded to such a size that I could only just get my fingers around it and the head had ballooned almost to bursting point.

But even so I misjudged just how powerfully he'd responded to our play-acting - I'd fully intended to let him come deep inside my mouth - but even as I moistened my lips in preparation for that, he erupted, his cock firing a thick jet of hot, sticky semen up over me and, as I continued pumping it was followed by several more, equally powerful bursts, most of which ended up either smeared across my face or up in my hair.

'Damn!' I said under my breath, as I coaxed the last few reluctant spurts from him. Then, as he sank back down into the chair, reverting to character. 'I'm sorry sir, I hadn't meant to do it like that, make you come as quickly as that I mean. As you just said, I was planning on getting even more out of it - and I'd so wanted to see what it felt like in my mouth.'

He smiled weakly, still struggling to regain his breath. 'I'm sorry too Kim but there's no need for you to apologise, it certainly wasn't your fault. That was marvellous. It took me by surprise too, I hadn't realised just how much you'd turned me on. Though I suppose it's not surprising really.' He bent forward and held my face between his hands, seeing the mess he'd made of me, then looking deep into my eyes and in a voice charged with emotion, said. 'You're a phenomenal lady.'

For a moment I thought he was going to say more but he seemed to mentally shake himself and then went on. 'But I think you'd better go and clean yourself up a bit, before that stuff sets in your hair. Would you like me to make you a drink while you're doing that?'

'Why not!' I thought to myself - and so answered. 'Yes, thank you. I can stay a little bit longer.' And headed for the bath-room to wash, very aware that his eyes followed the sway of my buttocks all the way across the room.

As I rinsed his quickly drying semen from my face and then used a wet comb to get it out of my hair I thought about the difference in his reactions to me this time. At our first meeting he had been very much in control, so much so that, unlike most customers he'd actually been able to give me a climax - this time, although he'd started off in a similar way, apparently quite in control of the situation, he'd suddenly, almost unexpectedly exploded. 'Odd.' I thought to myself. 'What brought it on so quickly - what was so different?' As I replayed and compared the two occasions I realised that in the first he'd been handling me, concentrating on me - in the second he'd been the focal point, he hadn't once really had an opportunity to touch me.

Having put my normal clothes back on again I returned to the other room, where I found that while I'd been gone he'd also dressed, packed up the class-room props, returned the room to normal and poured the two drinks that stood waiting on the table. As I sat down he naturally couldn't help noticing that the front portion of my hair was still damp and said. 'I'm sorry about the mess in your hair Brandy, you understand that I didn't plan on things finishing exactly like that.'

'No need to apologise Frank. It took me by surprise too. I'm sorry if it wasn't what you wanted.'

'There's no need for you to apologise - it was, I mean you were terrific, everything I've ever fantasised about - and more!'

'I'm glad. But tell me, of the two, which sister do you like best?'

He thought for a moment before answering. 'To be honest I couldn't really say - the idea of both appeals, as you could tell.' he added with a smile. 'The thought of teaching Kim, the almost-a-virgin, is very exciting - but then so is the idea of the already-quite-experienced Brandy. De-flowering little girls has never been a fantasy of mine, so both characters work well - and I must say that you play them both superbly, just the right touch of shy hesitation, mixed with youthful eagerness to please. Just at this minute I couldn't say which was the more exciting - if you are happy to go along with my little game maybe in time we'll find out together.'

'It's fine by me Frank.'

'You don't find it strange?'

'Not as strange as many of the things I'm asked to do.'

'Perhaps you'd tell me about those sometime.'

'Professional confidence Frank. I don't discuss what goes on, with anyone - that way everyone feels secure.'

'Ah yes, of course. Very sensible of you Brandy. But you can understand my curiosity.'

'And you can understand my reasons for not satisfying it.'

He laughed. 'True. That's another reason why it works so well with you, you're not just very lovely, you're also very intelligent. I'm tempted to say that you're wasted in the work you do, but I imagine it has many advantages that a more ordinary job doesn't have.'

'I think so - it suits me. Let's me be my own boss, I get to meet a lot of people, most of them nice, some of them very nice. Usually there are no complications. And the money's good.' I added with a grin.

'Speaking of that - shall we arrange our next lesson.' he said as he got up and went to get his wallet.

'Which one will you be giving tuition to?'

'Actually, what you just asked me, about which one I preferred, has started me thinking - and, if you don't mind I think I'd like both of them. At an appropriate fee of course. Would that be all right?'

'It's perfectly all right by me Frank. Anything else you'd like to tell me about it?'

'No, I'll give it a little more thought between now and then.' he grinned and then said. 'Probably quite a lot actually! Just bring that quick mind of yours with you please - and both sets of clothes of course. Oh, and please make sure Kim's wearing the same under-wear as she wore this evening, I found that very exciting.'

I made a note of the date we'd agreed on, took the money he gave me, finished my drink and left, feeling good that I seemed to have found another regular client - and one whose fantasies I found both easy to meet and, in a way, quite enjoyable too.  

From time to time during the intervening couple of weeks I found myself thinking about Frank and his school-girls, each of which seemed to fulfil a slightly different need. The forwardness that resulted from the elder twin's greater experience excited him in one way - most men enjoy the thought of being on the receiving end of an attractive girl's seduction. The less experienced, almost virginal Kim, appealed to the more dominant aspect of his personality, even if it was she who actually did the work, it was he who was the 'teacher' and, by extension, the ravager.

I decided that at the coming meeting I'd strengthen those aspects of the two characters, if for no other reason than to satisfy my own curiosity.

So, when the time came, having packed Kim's uniform and a few street clothes in my shoulder bag I dressed in Brandy's school uniform, that time swapping the regulation under-wear I had worn the first time in favour of a more sexy bra and bikini set made from lacy, black nylon. To avoid stares and questions from officious hotel staff I covered the uniform with a light top-coat and headed off for our appointment, with an unusually high sense of anticipation.

To ensure there was no initial confusion, as he opened the door to me I said. 'Hello sir - Kim's been held up at school, she said to tell you she'd be along a bit later.'

Frank smiled and I saw that he immediately understood what I'd said when he answered as he closed the door behind us and we moved across the room together. 'That's fine Brandy, I was rather hoping we'd be able to continue the discussion we were having about Relationships first. Ah, I see you've come straight from school yourself this evening.' he added as I slipped off my coat and he saw I was already wearing the uniform.

'Yes sir. I had a gym class.'

'So you're a gymnast too Brandy.'

'Not really sir, it's more like aerobics, one of the teachers is an instructor at a local health club and she takes a couple of sessions at school, for the older girls.'

'For the figure-conscious girls I presume you mean.' he said with a grin.

'Yes sir, the girls who come along are mostly those who have boy-friends, or who are trying to get one.'

He smiled then said. 'Well I think that leads us straight into our continuing discussion about Relationships. So why don't you sit down and we'll start.'

He had set things up in a similar way to the previous time, except the projector was off to one side and instead of having the chair behind the table, it was beside it - presumably so that if I repeated my display of myself, he would have an even better view.

'Actually sir, if you don't mind, before we go any further I'd rather like to re-cap on what we discussed last time and I think I could do that better if I used the white-board.'

A slightly puzzled look crossed his face but he agreed and took the chair he had expected me to be sitting on.

'We had started discussing the things that make relationships complex and although we got diverted when the subject of sex came up, there are of course many more things than just that to consider.' I turned to the white-board and began to make a list as I spoke. 'So we can separate it from the activity I'll use the word 'Gender', then there's 'Age', 'Position in Family', social position or 'Hierarchy', 'Wealth', 'Work' and 'Political' relationships, oh and I mustn't forget two others, 'Emotion', love, hate, etc. affect a relationship of course and last but by no means least, 'Sex' itself. That's just a few of them - and often there are in fact many combinations and permutations affecting a relationship.' I said as I turned back to face him.

As I unexpectedly did that I caught his eyes flickering upwards, they hadn't been looking up at what I'd been writing on the board - but lowered, looking at either my legs or my bottom. He sat with his legs uncrossed, bent slightly forwards in the chair and with his hands in his lap - a position in which he could unobtrusively hold his cock, I thought to myself, with an inner smile.

'That's very good Brandy, I see you have been giving a good deal of thought to the subject.' he said, then smiled as I responded by saying.

'Yes I have sir - I found your lesson extremely stimulating.'

'I'm glad to hear you say so, I felt sure that was the case, as I'm happy to admit it was for me too.'

'And thinking about that - and then about it in relationship to all these other things I've listed on the board - I came to a few conclusions.'

'And what were they Brandy?'

'I think that in any given relationship, no matter what else affects it, you will find one things dominates and maybe in turn affects all the others.'

'That's an interesting thought, explain further please.'

'Yes sir.' I turned back to the board and wrote. 'Mother - Daughter', underlined it and then, beneath the heading added; 'Age - Authority', 'Family - Dominance', 'Gender - Competition'. Those are just the more obvious ones - and together like that they all appear fairly negative, you'd expect such a relationship to be very one-sided. But, if you add 'Love' to the list it completely changes the formula, doesn't it sir.'

I turned again but saw that that time his eyes had been following what I had been writing.

'That's very observant Brandy, a valuable insight. Anything else?'

'Yes sir. I then thought about you and me sir - that's actually when I came up with the idea of the dominant aspect, then I applied it to others - and found it still worked.'

'Please explain that Brandy.'

I turned away again and wrote - 'Teacher - Pupil' as a heading and beneath it; 'Age - Authority', 'Social - Dominant/Authority', 'Gender - Dominant'. As I was writing the words on the board with one hand I was using the other to unobtrusively undo the buttons down the front of my uniform, when I had finished I looked back over my shoulder at him and said. 'All of which imply the almost total submissiveness of the pupil, don't they sir?'

'Yes, that's true Brandy.'

'However, if I add 'Sex' to the list - ' I wrote the word quickly and as I turned to face him, held the uniform open, displaying myself, letting him see the provocative under-things I was wearing. ' - that again changes the entire formula. Doesn't it sir?' I asked in my sweet little school-girl voice.

He stared, his eyes swept up over my body, drinking in the sight of me and I saw one of his hands clutching himself - I'd been right about what he'd been doing while my back was turned. 'Doesn't it sir?' I asked a second time.

He cleared his throat before answering. 'Yes Brandy, you make the point very well, very persuasively.

And I must say, from what I can see, I don't think you have to worry about attending too many gym classes, you seem to be in extremely fine shape already.'

'Thank you sir.' I answered with a shy little giggle. 'But I've been concentrating on special exercises during the last few lessons, to strengthen particular muscles.'

'Which muscles?'

'My thighs and tummy.' I answered as I shrugged the uniform off my shoulders and then slid my hands up over my legs and abdomen.

'They both look fine to me Brandy.' he said as his eyes followed the slow movements of my fingers.

'But I wanted them stronger sir, so I could be sure I'd be able to please you in a certain way.'

'How?'

'I think it's easier if I show you, don't you sir?' I answered as I hooked my fingers in the waist-band of the panties, eased them slowly down over my hips and let them slip down around my ankles.

'Yes, perhaps you're right.' he answered as he got up and then hurriedly began to strip. 'I think it's time for the practical part of the lesson.' he added with a tight grin.

'Let's use the bed this time - sir, it seems a pity to waste it.' I said as I moved across and stripped back the covers while he finished undressing. When I turned back again I saw that I had been right, his cock was already more than half-way to being fully erect. 'Mmm, that's impressive, sir.' Grinning up at him as I added. 'He doesn't seem to need any gym classes, he looks quite fit enough already.

You lie down sir, just leave everything to me. Let's see how well the exercises have worked for me.' I said as he joined me beside the bed.

He lay there, his eyes drifting up and down my body, his cock twitching as it filled and lengthened in reaction to the sight of me, jerking even more strongly when I took off my bra and freed my breasts for him. I got up on to the bed, kneeled beside him and began by gently stroking his cock with just my finger-tips, feeling it quivering at my touch and hearing a small sigh of pleasure escaping from his lips. Then, slowly increasing the pressure of my touch I gently squeezed it a few times before unpeeling it, moving the loose folds of skin down towards the base and then stroking the soft smoothness of the head. Its pulse quickly strengthened and as I watched it growing both thicker and longer I heard the sound of his breathing getting louder, more irregular, broken by gasps of pleasure each time my hand triggered some particularly strong sensation and by varying the type, strength and speed of my caresses I soon had a full-blown, throbbing erection in my hand.

Looking down at it, so long, thick and hard gave me an undeniable sense of anticipation as to how it would feel once I had it up inside my pussy and as it was clear that he was more than ready for me I wasted no more time, I straddled his legs and after a quick feel up between my thighs to check that I was, as I had thought, already sufficiently moist, I spread my pussy open with one hand, took hold of his shaft with the other and, guiding the head between my outer pussy-lips, sank slowly down on to it.

At first the rest of his body lay quite still but he moaned softly and I felt his cock surge as I gradually engulfed him, feeling it forcing me wide open as it tunnelled its way high up inside me.

I squatted there for a while just letting him enjoy the sensations caused by the slick warmth of my cunt tightening around his cock, looking down and seeing his face and body tense as those thrills coursed through him. His eyes bulged as he stared up at me and I would have loved to known exactly what, if anything, he was thinking at that moment - but even though I was sitting quite still I could feel his cock jerking powerfully inside me and felt sure that whatever it was it was both erotic and exciting.

As I felt his cock surging to an even greater size I cautiously lifted myself, my pussy tingling as I felt the hard length of him slowly slipping out of me, pausing momentarily when I finally felt the bulge of his cock-head against the inner layers of my pussy-lips. Then, contracting their muscles, I gripped it and began to slowly move up and down, making quite small movements, letting my pussy graze over the sharp rim and part way up over the head - being careful not to let it slip too far out - down again until just the head was inside me, pause, then up again, pause - up and down, up and down, over and over again.

As he lay there, enjoying the tantalisingly exciting sensations I was creating for him, his eyes following the way my breasts bounced and swayed, his hands skimming lightly over the curve of my hips and up and down my back - I could see the unmistakable signs of the mounting pressure inside him reflected in the increasing tightness of his smile, the growing tension of his muscles - and feel it as his cock-head grew still larger.

Of course the rhythmic friction of its growing mass rubbing against the most sensitive part of my pussy produced thrilling effects for me too and even though I continued at that steady rhythm I had to control the urge to simply slam myself down on his cock.

But as minutes passed, the effect of what I was doing had an even stronger impact on him, his groans became louder and more frequent, his face grimaced and I felt his hips starting to heave himself upwards, trying desperately to shove his cock deeper into me and as by then his cock-head felt as though it had ballooned to near bursting point, I decided not to torment him any longer - and began to drive strongly up and down the full, throbbing length of him.

Again, as it had the previous time, when Kim ended up getting her face unexpectedly sprayed with semen, the suddenness of the onset of his climax took me, as I think it did Frank too, completely by surprise. One minute I was powering myself up and down the hard, vibrating length of him - the next it was fountaining inside me, pumping the thick jets high, reaching the very deepest recesses of my body.

I rode him until I knew he was fully spent then, holding his still firm cock inside me, leaned forward and let him kiss and suck my breasts and their stiffly swollen nipples.




Brandy Ch. 03-04



After a while, although I tried to grip it tighter, I felt his wilting cock slipping out of me, followed by the messy mixture we'd made with his semen and my vaginal lubricants. 'Lie still, relax, I'll get a cloth and clean us up Frank.' I whispered as I eased myself up and off him.

Having sponged myself I returned and did the same for him and as I could see that he was starting to doze off I kissed his forehead and suggested he sleep for a while, that I'd wake him again a little later. Collecting the clothes I'd discarded earlier I padded back to the bath-room and took my time having a shower and re-doing my hair and make-up in the style I'd previously used in my role as Kim and then put on her uniform.

I had already decided how I was going to start the second half of our time together, remembering something Frank had said during his first meeting with Kim.

'But remember that as well as getting a man 'fired-up', as you put it, before having sex - using your mouth is a great way of re-arousing him afterwards, if you fancy a second helping I mean. A lot of men like having their cock sucked when it's still limp, before you've done anything else - and that's especially exciting when the two of you have been resting after having had sex.'

By the time I was ready he'd had half an hour's sleep and I hoped that plus what I planned to do for him would be enough to get him re-aroused - but there was only way to find out.

When I went back I found him lying on one side and although he grumbled in his sleep I was able to roll him over on to his back without waking him but as I pulled him around on the bed and spread his legs I could tell from the sounds he made that he was slowly beginning to surface. Before he'd fully woken I knelt between his thighs, buried my face in his crotch and took all of him inside my mouth - cock and balls - sucking them, rolling them around with my tongue.

He still smelt of sex - his, mine and ours - strong, pungent and arousing and as I worked on him I recalled the picture his cock had made the last time we had been together, as it erupted, spewing semen over my face and up into my hair. The memories of how good that had looked, how strong and powerful and of the force with which he'd suddenly come reminded me of the first time, when he'd succeeded in getting me to climax too - and somewhere at the back of my mind I must have wondered if he'd be able to do that again. And hoped that he would!

By then he was fully awake, moaning softly as his cock began to respond to the treatment I was giving it and as it slowly refilled he lifted himself, reached down for me and said.

'Turn around, so I can get at your pussy.'

Without releasing his growing cock I did as he'd asked, turning so that I knelt astride his chest, facing away from him, my pussy above his head.

'Ah, Kim!' he sighed as he recognised the tiny g-string covering it. 'I'm pleased to see that you've remembered what I said during our last lesson - about oral stimulation being a very effective way of re-arousing the male. Now let's see how effective it can be on the female.'

As he spoke he pulled the g-string down over my hips and as I balanced myself and lifted one leg so he could get it off me he slipped his hand up between my thighs, gently stroking me with his finger-tips, making me shiver with a mixture of immediate pleasure and anticipation of what was to follow.

'Such a beautiful arse.' he said as he continued stroking me. 'And an even more beautiful pussy.' He added as he pulled me a little further back, lifted his head and kissed it, his lips triggering more shivers of delight.

The next ten minutes or so are a hazy blur, his cock growing steadily bigger and stronger - his hands and tongue stimulating my arse and pussy in turn, rapidly increasing my own level of excitement too.

Then, just as I felt the first small waves of pleasure were about to start rippling through me he pulled himself up from between my legs and as he got off the bed he turned me, so I had my back to him as I knelt on the edge of it.

'I don't want to risk another unexpected climax Kim - and I want to be sure you get some pleasure out of this too.' he said as he guided his swollen cock-head between my thighs and outer pussy-lips.

'I was doing very nicely - thank you, sir.' I answered, then grunted as he pushed himself forwards, his cock thrusting deep inside me. 'But I'm sure you're right. Aaah! This is going to be even better.'

Once right inside me he held himself there and as I pushed myself hard back against him he rocked me backwards and forwards, opening me right up with the mass of his cock-head, re-starting the rippling pleasure-waves that his tongue had created. Then, as he felt my body responding he began to thrust in and out of me, at first using long, slow strokes that intensified the sensations I was experiencing, gradually increasing the speed and force of them as he heard me gasping loudly with pleasure and felt me reacting even more strongly to the quickly growing pressure.

His timing was perfect, just as I felt the first wave surging up from somewhere deep inside, he slipped one hand across the tight curve of my bottom and opened up my arse-hole by forcing his middle finger up inside it and then, in time with his thrusting cock, drove it in and out of me. That added stimulation pushed me up over the top and I heard myself cry out as the first shock-wave of my climax ripped through me, followed by another and another and another as the combination of his cock and probing finger carried me higher and higher.

Then, while I was still gripped by the force of what he'd done for me he leaned forward and said in a surprisingly controlled voice. 'Kim, did you know that anal-sex is one of the oldest - and still most reliable forms of contraception?'

What I was feeling made replying difficult and the effect of it was reflected in the tight rasping sound of my voice as I replied. 'Ugh - I think I remember hearing that - ugh - somewhere sir.'

'What you may not know is that it can also be extremely pleasurable. I think we might finish this particular lesson with a practical demonstration of that - don't you?'

'Yes, sir. Ugh! Yes please sir.' I somehow managed to answer.

Even as I said that I felt him pulling out of my cunt, then his slippery cock-head replacing his finger and although I was still shuddering from the effects of the climax I relaxed as much as I could, to make his entry easier - and that, plus the fact that his cock was so hard and so slippery from the liberal coating of my pussy's juices, meant that he actually had very little trouble getting it past the normally tightly locked muscles.

Our groans blended as he thrust himself forward, the dark, oily passage gripping his cock from end to end each time he paused, then opening a little as he applied more pressure and he forced himself a little deeper. The feel of him entering me by that route re-started the climax I'd been enjoying and when I could tell from his grunt of satisfaction and the feel of his balls jammed hard up against the backs of my thighs that I had taken all of him, I braced myself for the fucking I was about to get - and the way I knew I was going to react to it.

I wasn't disappointed - although he had climaxed only a short while before, the way I had re-aroused him, coupled with the tightness of my arse-hole were sufficiently powerful stimulations to enable him to reach a second - but, as I'd previously hoped, it took him longer to reach it that time, giving me time to really enjoy the mind-blowing sensations his cock produced for me.

Once he'd fully opened me he repeated the pattern he'd followed previously, at first using those slow, powerful strokes, ramming his cock as far inside me as he could get it - then, while continuing to fully plug me each time, very gradually speeding-up his action - which soon had me sobbing in response to the strength of the sensations he was creating for me. Then, even as my own excitement rose to near fever pitch and I began to wonder if he was actually going to achieve a second climax, I felt his hands gripping my hips even more tightly and his pistoning strokes become almost frenzied.

My cry of ecstasy as he brought my own rolling climax to its ultimate crescendo, blended with his gasping grunts as he finally exploded, blasting his semen deep into the bowels of my spasming body and, as he continued to power his cock deep inside me, by the feel of it pumping out even more of it than he had the previous time.

Finally, our senses reeling, totally drained and quite exhausted we fell forwards on to the bed together, his cock, still jerking spasmodically, locked inside my arse and we lay there panting as we waited for our hearts to stop racing and our bodies to recover from the shattering experience we had shared.

Later I had to have a second shower, which Frank also shared with me and we giggled like school-kids as, between soaping and scrubbing we playfully slapped and pinched each other.

I played out Frank's school-girl fantasies for many months - and, as you can tell, actually enjoyed being with him. I enjoyed his mind as well as his body and although he always wanted the same basic scenario he managed to come up with a fresh idea for every one of our sessions. He had me act out being both girls a couple more times but we found things really went very much better when I stuck to being either one or the other. Although I could play the part of whichever girl he preferred I found it difficult to convincingly switch from one to the other during the one session and Frank admitted that playing-out his own fantasies was more satisfactory that way too.

Not that I relied on Frank to provide all the imaginative input, as I got to know him even better I started anticipating things, coming up with ideas of my own that I thought would interest and excite him - and I was rarely wrong. When he rang to make a booking I let him choose which of the two school-girls he wanted me to be, once I knew that I could judge what kind of a mood he was in, if he asked me to be Kim I knew he wanted to be the dominant partner, if he chose Brandy then he'd enjoy having me coming on to him more strongly.

Once, when I was being Kim, I really played-up during the opening class-room part and managed to get him genuinely cross with me, just when he was about to actually lose his temper I sort of apologised and said I knew I deserved to be chastised for my behaviour. He suddenly realised what I had been up to, reverted to his school-teacher role and asked which I would prefer as punishment, a written assignment or a spanking. Naturally I chose the latter, in a suitably subdued voice of course - and when he had me lie across his knee for the smacking, pulled my skirt up and found that I didn't even have my usual g-string on, I felt his cock almost immediately surge up to a full sized erection. That got us both off to a really good start and the enthusiastic fucking he gave me afterwards more than made up for the slight soreness his hands gave my bottom.

On one of the days he had asked for Brandy to visit I left the uniform off, went in street gear - really tarty stuff, fish-net stockings, skimpy, black underwear, a short, tight skirt and a top with a really plunging neck-line. I looked so much like what every man thinks a prostitute looks like that I had to wear a top-coat over it to get into the hotel. When I got up to his room and took it off to let him see what I was wearing underneath it his eyes nearly popped out of his head. I explained that as it was end of term we had had a party - a 'sluts and pro's' party - and that I hadn't had time to change before coming to his lesson. He tried starting off with his usual little class-room scene but the way I was dressed was just too much for him and it was only a matter of minutes before we were fucking each other instead.

Between the two of us we came up with all sorts of ideas and had some really great times together - and in my heart I'll probably always have a bit of a soft spot for my favourite school-teacher!





Brandy Ch. 05-06



Chapter 5

KIERON

Most of the experiences I have had in my work that I have told you about so far have probably made escort work sound like fun, fun, fun! I get taken out, wined and dined, get more than my fair share of sex - some of it very good sex, the occasional bit of drama, a few weird but not unpleasant happenings - and I get paid for it all! 

Sounds great doesn't it?

Well, most of the time it isn't. 

Most of the day-to-day clients are pretty 'yuk'! Run-down, middle aged, often fat, sometimes grubby too. Nearly all of them badly dressed, even worse undressed! Boring, nothing to talk about except their job or their rotten wives. 

They buy me a meal, a cheap bottle of wine and for some dollars, expect me to virtually fall in love with them - or faint at their sexual prowess. To most of them sex is simply a matter of shoving their little cocks in and out of me as fast as they can - and they usually need my help to get it up for them in the first place!

So the great times, the good lovers, the imaginative needs - they're the rare ones - and of course the ones I tend to remember best.

Luckily those on the other end of the scale are rare too - but they are around! The brutes, the sadists, the sheer animals!

Like the good times, any girl who is in this business has had her share of the 'nasties' - I'm not talking about the guys who try all sorts of tricks to avoid paying or who try their utmost to get more than they have paid for. Nor the guys who treat you like a piece of meat, just because in their minds they have 'bought' you. No, I mean the real 'nasties'.

Guys who connive, cheat and swindle - because that's the only way they know. And, even worse of course, the guys who beat, rape and, sometimes even kill - because, in their twisted way, they actually enjoy it

I have had my share of both, I've been robbed several times, off work because of bruises even more times and actually put into hospital twice!

The trouble is, when you meet a guy for the first time, in a bar, restaurant or hotel, you just can't tell if he is going to be a knight in shining armour or the devil incarnate. So you accept their money and find out the hard way.

Kieron, for instance, was a charmer. When he rang he had no reference - most of my clients are referred on by another client, someone has a good time - talks about it, as men - and women of course - do, names and phone numbers are passed on and I get to check the reference in my index. 

But Kieron didn't have a name, he said he got my number from 'someone he had talked to, in a group of business men' but he couldn't remember the man's name. The person said I had given him such a wonderful experience that he, Kieron, just had to call me. He said he simply had to meet such a gorgeous, intelligent, sexy, talented lady - if only for a drink - and, if I didn't like him then that would be his loss, I could simply walk away.

It was his voice that got to me I suppose, it was deep, well modulated and obviously educated. But most of all, he made me laugh. Not that he cracked jokes or anything like that, I guess it was just the way he phrased things, innuendoes he put on things I said - I liked him. I had nothing to lose, so I said 'yes'.

He mentioned the name of the hotel he was staying at and asked if the cocktail bar there was convenient, or would I prefer to meet somewhere else, my choice. I said that where he was would be fine, after all, if he did seem O.K. it would be easier to just get in a lift and go up to his room than to muck around with getting a cab back from somewhere else. He went on to say that if we got on over a drink we could have a meal in the restaurant there, or his room, again my choice. 

He was so believable, sounded so charming!

When I met him I was even more convinced I had made the right choice. Well dressed, a nicely cut three-piece suit, highly polished shoes - I always notice a man's shoes, they tell you a lot about the way he takes care of himself - clean shaven, dark, wavy hair with touches of grey at the temples and a bright, open-faced smile of greeting.

We sat and had a drink together, his conversation was witty and he talked freely about a whole range of things, fashions, music, films - never once mentioning either his work or his wife, that made a change!

So I agreed to have dinner with him, again he asked me if I would prefer to have it in the restaurant - there was no pressure on me at all - I said, 'no, his room would be fine'. Dinner in a restaurant takes forever and unless I'm being hired purely as a man's companion at a function I prefer to eat where the action is going to be - it saves time and I get home to my own bed earlier that way.

We went up, chose and ordered our meals and he poured me another drink. I got the financial business out of the way, he paid cash - which he was to take back again later of course - and we carried on chatting while we waited for room-service and still everything seemed terrific. 

As always, I had been trying to imagine what kind of body I would find under the suit - it's a little game I play with myself and over the years I've become pretty good at it. You know, how well muscled will he be, the shape of his thighs and bum, how big a cock will he have, long and thin or short and thick. That kind of thing. 

I guessed he would be fairly lean, not too much fat on him, I like that. I thought his cock would be bigger than his general size suggested - you often find that's true of his kind of build. Medium sized men often have disproportionately big cocks, I don't know why, but it's true.

When there was a knock on the door from room-service I popped into the bath-room while the trolley was brought in, coming out only after I heard the waiter leave. As I walked across to where dinner had been laid, I suddenly felt a bit funny, my legs a bit wobbly - it passed and I sat down at the table. But I had only taken a couple of mouthfuls of food when I felt my head beginning to spin and realised I was going to faint. I tried to push myself away from the table, to get to the bath-room - but found I didn't have the strength. Everything seemed to swim around and then, went black!

I didn't know how long I had been out cold but when I gradually recovered consciousness I found myself tied down to the bed - naked! 

It took a while for my eyes to bring the room into focus and while I was trying to do that I became aware of the sharp, cutting pain of cord or something like that, around my wrists, ankles, tight up beneath my breasts and around my throat - and a gag of some sort, that was tied so tightly across my mouth that I had difficulty breathing. 

I was spread-eagled, my legs and arms spread wide and it felt as though the cords went down underneath the bed. I found I could move my legs a bit, I could bend my knees and pull them up a certain distance but I couldn't bring them together - and in struggling I painfully tightened the cords around my chest and throat. I was utterly helpless!

As my head cleared and I began to be able to focus properly again I saw him, sitting on a chair at the end of the bed, leering at me. At first I didn't recognise him, his face had changed completely somehow - now, in place of the open smile and laughing eyes there was a cold, intense grimness and a narrow scheming stare.

'Welcome back.' he said in a flat monotone voice. He then talked for what seemed like ages. First of all assuring me that the stuff he had put in my drink wouldn't do me any harm, that in a few minutes I wouldn't even have a headache - as though that somehow made it all O.K. 

Then he 'thanked me' for providing for the cost of the drinks, hotel room and dinner - courtesy of my charge card and some fast talking at the Reception desk from my 'husband'. So, as well as everything else I was paying for his treat!

He then went on to tell be just how gorgeous I was, going on and on about each separate part of me at enormous length. As he used the most crude and foul-mouthed words possible the compliments he paid ended up sounding like obscenities. I got the very strong impression that simply talking about me in that way was arousing, gave him a charge. 

All the time he was talking his cold, narrow eyes flicked up and down, first staring into mine then dropping, to stare straight up between my wide-spread thighs, at my defenceless pussy.

I have never been so absolutely terrified in all my life. I had no idea what he was going to do with or to me - but, being totally helpless I knew he could do absolutely anything he wanted and there wasn't a thing I would be able to do about it.

I'm not going to go into the details of that night, he raped me of course, several times and quite brutally. Not just with his cock either, he seemed to take a perverse delight in finding new things around the room to try to jam up into me. And not just up my pussy either, my arse came in for its share of his treatment too. 

Once he started in on me his, until then constant flow of words, stopped completely. Every now and then he would make a small grunt of satisfaction or perverted pleasure as some action particularly pleased him. Even when he shot his filthy semen into or over me, as he did half a dozen times during the night, he made no other sound than the same, satisfied grunt.

I found later that he had tied me up in such a way that he could release my feet without disturbing the cords that held my arms, chest and throat. After he had tired of using my sex, he released my legs, then pulled them back up until my knees were on my chest, then retying the cords at the top of the bed. That way he could get at my bottom with the various toys he had lined up.

I thanked heaven when he had had enough of that, apart from the pain, I almost suffocated from the additional pressure of my knees hard up against my chest like that

Somehow, not being able to make more than muffled grunting sounds made it all the harder to bear - and the tightness of the gag meant I was constantly struggling to breathe, even while I was, at the same time trying to unsuccessfully relieve the pain with my screams.

I lost all track of time, the night just seemed endless and I honestly thought that he was going to kill me when he had enough. I didn't see how he could leave me around after what he had done. I suppose the pain and the shock gradually wore me down, my brain seemed to just stop functioning after a couple of hours or so. I suppose that eventually I must have passed out.

Perhaps he could only get what to him passed for pleasure while I was aware of what he was doing to me and he could see my reactions - but as I faded in and out of consciousness I felt no new humiliations or pains being inflicted on me.

I found out later that a maid found me like that, still semi-conscious, when she could get no answer to her knocking on the door the following morning. The hotel was very discrete, an ambulance and the police were called, to the back entrance - not that I was of any value to the police in the state I was in at that time.

They kept me in hospital for a couple of days, mainly for shock. I needed a few stitches in my vagina too. But - at least I was alive!

The police were very kind, but I had to go over and over every single detail I could remember so many times I lost count. The description I gave them of Kieron didn't match up with any of their 'known' weirdoes - and of course they have never found him. 

The senior detective reckoned it was a 'one off' - a normally straight guy, perhaps a petty con-man, maybe happily married, suddenly lost all his controls, saw an opportunity to actually live-out some deep-seated fantasies.

But I wonder, what sort of an animal has those kinds of fantasies!

So, as I said, the escort business isn't always fun - as I've learned to my cost!

Chapter 6

THE BARBER

When I first started out in the escort business I thought I was pretty experienced - the reasons why I decided to make my living the way I do don't really matter for now but I was certainly no innocent virgin, I went into it with my eyes wide-open and, as I said, feeling that I knew most things men wanted me to do to or for them.

I couldn't have been more wrong!

The first thing that surprised me was that not every man wanted to fuck me, or at least some part of me - if not my pussy then my mouth or my arse. I'd assumed that that's what guys went to escort-girls for - I was amazed at how many didn't. It's true that just about all of them want to climax - but a surprising number prefer to be masturbated or even to just have me provide sufficient stimulus for them while they do that for themselves.

And it's hard to believe the variety and sort of stimulus some of them have in mind!

Even now, I'm sometimes amazed at some of the weird things guys want of me - but I suppose that unless they happen to meet up with a woman whose idea of bliss is the exact female counter-part of what the man needs, where do they go? Girls like me of course...

I'm not talking about things the media seem to love to go on about - Bondage and Discipline, Water-sports, things like that, there are plenty of places that specialise in those and the men who are really into them tend to go back to whichever one of them they happen to like the best. Nor the really psychotic things most of us would only ever read about in specialist books on sexuality. 

What I'm talking about are the strange, quirky and sometimes positively bizarre things that really quite normal people need from time to time - as though there is something niggling away at them that they just have to get out of their system.

There was the guy who had a thing about condoms, unlike just about every other man I've ever met, he actually wanted to wear one - but in a way I've only ever come across with him.

He liked me to start to get him stiff, then before it was fully erect, fit one on to his cock - and then snip the little reservoir off the end. Once I'd done that he'd take over for a bit, working the head of his cock through the small opening until he had the condom fitting tight in the groove below it - then he'd ease the slack that created right down to the base.

If that doesn't sound strange enough, what came next was really bizarre. Slipping his fingers inside, he'd stretch the latex to its limit - and pull it right down over his balls, stretching and adjusting it until, other than the head bulging through the small opening I'd made at the top, it held all of him. At first I couldn't believe how odd he looked but as that initial reaction wore off I had to admit that although it gave his cock and balls an almost surrealistic appearance, there was actually something very sexy about it.

Like many women I suppose, I've usually thought of a man's cock and balls as separate parts - and frankly, until he's close to climaxing, when the balls rise up tight beneath the cock, they're not exactly the most attractive part of his body.

But the tightly stretched condom pulled his balls up against the base of the shaft, fusing them together, making them look like a single member, an impression that was magnified by the mirror-like sheen of the latex that was stretched almost to breaking point.

The combination of that, plus the fact that the tightly fitting condom made the head bulge even more than usual, turning it a dark purple colour as his cock continued to grow, made it look as though he was equipped with something other than just normal flesh and blood - a cock that had been artificially enhanced - a bionic cock.

Once he was satisfied the condom was fitted properly he liked me to get a solid grip around the base with one hand, then, concentrating mainly on the exposed head, use the other to slowly work him up to his climax. Naturally enough the combination of the tightly fitting condom and my hand gripping him hard both slowed down and more importantly, intensified his response and although he sometimes liked me to let him come in my mouth, far more frequently he preferred to be able to watch the jets of semen spewing out when he finally erupted.

But strange though that may sound, another, even better example of what I mean is the fellow I always think of as 'The Barber', no he didn't want to cut my hair but you'll see why I can't help thinking of him by that name.

The name he gave me was Larry and the first time he called he gave me the name of a friend of his who had been a casual client some months earlier, when a quick check of my records confirmed that, we arranged to meet for dinner at the hotel he said he'd be staying at one night the following week. We met, ate, went up to his room, he paid me and we had sex. I don't remember that there was anything special about either him or it, he certainly gave no indication that time that he wanted anything other than normal, straight sex.

A couple of weeks later he rang again, reminded me that we had already met and asked if I was free on a certain night, I was and we arranged what I thought would be a similar meeting.

Once again we met in the restaurant bar of the hotel and I admit that our previous encounter had been so ordinary that I was a bit concerned I wouldn't be able to recognise him but he was obviously watching out for my arrival and we were soon sitting down to eat. Many men are initially nervous with me the first time but those that come back for seconds are usually much more self-confident, some far too much so - acting as though they actually own me. Larry was quite the reverse, he was so nervous that towards the end it became clear he was actually putting off going up to his room and in the end, to save time I had to push him to get the bill.

He didn't say a single word to me about what he wanted until after he had dithered around for quite a while, offering me a drink, asking if I needed to use the bath-room and generally avoiding whatever it was that was that was going on in his mind. Again I took the initiative by asking him straight out if he'd be wanting the same thing as he had the last time, just so we could get the financial part out of the way. He had no choice then, he had to say what he actually wanted me to do. He asked me if I would shave him!

'Shave you? You don't look as though you need one Larry.' I answered.

'I don't mean my face, I mean the rest of me.'

'You mean your body?'

'Yes.'

'All of it, or just part of it?'

'All of it!'

I resisted asking him why, that wasn't my business and after all he was paying for what he wanted me to do and from my point of view it was a pretty harmless activity. So I agreed and, having named a higher than usual price he managed a weak smile and handed over the money.

He'd obviously worked the whole thing out in detail in his mind because once the ice was broken he bustled around far more confidently, turning back the bed-covers, getting towels from the bath-room, laying two large ones over the sheets and putting a smaller one and an old-fashioned shaving brush and a tub of soap on the bed-side table. I was glad to see that he didn't want me to use a cut-throat razor, I might have called a halt to things if he had - and I was amused by the fact that he'd even brought a jug for the hot water.

Once everything was ready he seemed to get nervous again and as he began to take his clothes off he said, shyly that it would probably be better for me if I got undressed, to avoid getting my clothes wet or soapy. He may have been nervous but at least he was human enough to keep an eye on me as I went into my slow strip and when he pulled his pants down although his cock was nowhere near erect, I saw that it had at least started to respond to his obviously growing interest.

At that stage I decided it would be better if I took charge of things and, picking up the jug I told him to lie face down on the towels while I got some hot water.




Brandy Ch. 05-06



His body hair was quite fair and although I had noticed that it did spread all over him, it certainly wasn't unsightly, as it can often be on some darker men - and as I filled the jug I wondered what might have made him sufficiently conscious of it to make him want what he had asked me to do. But then, as I said before, that was really none of my business.

While in the bath-room I had mapped out the sequence of how I was going to go about it and when I went back I began with his arms, lathering then shaving them from wrist to shoulder, then using the hand towel to remove the remaining traces of soap. Once I'd finished both of them I moved to the bottom of the bed and began on his legs, lathering the backs from ankle to knee then having shaved and dried them, turned him over to repeat the process on the other side. As he rolled towards me I saw that his cock had become a little longer and fatter than it had been but that it was still nowhere near erect.

Having done the lower half of the front of both legs I got him to roll back on to his front, then repeated the process on the upper half of the backs of his legs and as I worked on them I saw his buttocks twitch a little each time the razor got close to them.

When I rolled him over on to his back again and began on his thighs I saw more definite signs that what I was doing was getting to him, his cock was showing increasing signs of life and as I soaped and shaved him from knee to hip it continued to swell, responding even more strongly when I had him bend each leg in turn so that I could shave up along the insides of them.

All that time he hadn't said a word and he had kept his eyes closed - some men are like that, preferring to let it all happen inside their head. At the other end of the scale there are those who like to give a running commentary on what's going on, or want the girl to do so - and of course there's a whole range in between. Some like to either talk in the most filthy language or want the girl to. Everyone's different and in my business it's good for business to find out what the guy likes or wants. So, seeing his cock was reacting to his rising excitement I took that as a cue and said.

'Ah, that looks nice. But I'm afraid it's not his turn yet, he's going to have to wait a while before I get to him.'

Although that definitely resulted in a healthy surge it didn't prompt any other response so I assumed he was one of the quiet types who didn't mind a compliment from time to time but didn't want much else, at least verbally.

Once I had finished his upper legs I had him turn over yet again and to make things easier for me - and perhaps a bit more exciting for him - straddled his waist. I hadn't been rushing things, working slowly and steadily, partly because I didn't want to cut him and partly because I guessed that would increase and prolong whatever pleasure he was getting out of what I was doing and I took even more time to work my way over his shoulders and then down his back.

As I slowly moved lower I slid myself down over his buttocks and as I settled myself and shaved his lower back I felt his arse-cheeks flexing and, quite unconsciously and much to my surprise I felt my body responding, his tensing muscles triggering a faint but unmistakable reaction deep inside me.

When I'd finished his back I moved further down the bed and said.

'Get up you hands and knees now please, so I can shave your bottom.' Then, as I spread his legs wider, I took the opportunity to reach up between them and check out the state of his cock - it was hard - and it jerked strongly as he felt my soapy fingers brush over it.

I took longer than was really necessary to clean-up his arse, he wasn't heavily haired there but I could see he was enjoying the unusual sensations both the soap-brush and the razor produced - not to mention the occasional, encouraging feel I gave his balls and cock with my other hand.

Once done I had him roll over again and when he did I saw the full effect of what I had been doing for him - his cock stuck straight up, the shaft thickly veined, the head taut and a dark glossy red, the whole thing quivering slightly from the still rising pressure inside him. As there was still a fair bit of him left to shave I thought a short break in the proceedings might lessen some of his tension so I slid off the bed, saying that before I did any more I'd need fresh hot water and when he didn't complain about that I left him there for a few minutes while I took the jug to the bath-room to re-fill it.

As I stood by the basin I had time to think about my undoubted response to what I'd been doing. Although it wasn't the first time I had responded to a customer I hadn't anticipated it happening this time. Larry was O.K. but he was nothing special to look at, his body wasn't terrific, far from it - and he certainly hadn't said or done anything to turn me on. So whatever I was feeling was coming from inside my own head - and I couldn't imagine what my subconscious was getting out of me shaving a guy's body. It was almost as weird as what he wanted of me - but there it was, I had felt it!

When I returned he was in exactly the same position, lying on his back, eyes closed, his cock showing no signs of having lost any of its hardness. I guess he'd thought I'd shave his front the same way I had his back, starting at his shoulders and working down - but I had other ideas and I could see his surprise when he felt me begin by lathering his stomach and then working my way down rather than up. I didn't touch the dark, curly mass of his actual pubic hair, just doing my best to leave a sharp, clean line where it began, then said quietly.

'I think I'd better shave your friend now - if I leave it any longer it might be too late.' Easing his legs apart as I spoke so I could get up and kneel between them - and as I did that he made a low, quiet moan of anticipation.

As I had with his arse, I took my time, this time not just to intensify his pleasure but also to make doubly sure I didn't nick or cut him - starting in the groin, then working my way all over his balls, finally shaving even the lower section of the shaft itself.

Of course to do all that I had to handle him, tightening the already stretched, wrinkled skin covering his swollen balls, pulling up the loose folds at the base of the shaft - and as my slippery fingers touched and held him his moans of pleasure grew louder and more frequent and small drops of clear pre-cum oozed from the eye in the centre of his bloated cock-head - and as I watched and felt his body responding, I again felt those unexpected stirrings inside myself.

When I was satisfied he was not only completely clean-shaven but also very close to coming, I stopped, wiped him dry and climbed up over him, straddling his stomach so that I could shave from his shoulders down to where I had started. As I worked my way down across his chest I wriggled myself lower, little by little until I had the shaft of his cock between the cheeks of my bottom and as I began to shave the remaining section of him I felt his stomach muscles tightening and his hips tentatively thrusting himself upwards - and felt sharper thrills beginning to run through myself as I felt the hard mass rubbing up and down the cleft and over the tight hole at its centre.

Sensing he was then extremely close to orgasm I shifted my weight on to my knees, lifted myself up a little and, having smeared it with some of the lather that was left on his stomach, reached one hand behind me. As I changed position the muscles in my bottom relaxed and I used the soapy hand to hold his thrusting cock in the valley between its cheeks - and feeling that, he used his hips to jerk himself up even harder.

He was even closer that I had guessed, after only four or five of those powerful strokes he grunted loudly and I felt a sudden spray of warm, stickiness shooting up over my back - followed by several smaller jets as his body continued heaving upwards, until it had totally emptied itself.

I left him to recover while I went for a shower and got dressed, when I returned he'd cleaned himself up and was sitting on the side of the bed, with one of the towels wrapped around his waist. He looked up at me, gave me a shy smile and hesitantly asked.

'Could we do that again sometime, in a few months I mean, when it's grown back a bit?'

'Of course we can.' I said, smiling back at him. 'I'm glad you enjoyed it so much.'

'You don't mind, you don't think it's weird?'

'Not for me to say is it. We all have our own likes and dislikes. If I know what's best for you I can help you get the most out of it. That's what I'm here for.'

'Thank you. Thank you so very much.' he answered - and I'm sure I could see actual tears of gratitude welling up in his eyes.

I didn't hang around of course - but, a few months later I got another call from him and we had a similar session together and another a few months after that. I didn't feel the strange stirrings I had got during our first time together and in an odd way I was disappointed about that - but then it was his pleasure that he was paying for, not mine.

The third time we talked a bit more, maybe by then he had become more confident of my reactions to his unusual need. It seemed that a couple of years earlier his wife had left and then divorced him, he was still very much in love with her and the loss had shattered him. During the rows between her leaving and the actual divorce she had once told him how she had grown to loathe going to bed with him, how she simply couldn't stand the feel of his body hair!





Brandy Ch. 07-08



Chapter 7

THE DRESSERS

It's amazing how many men there are with a thing about clothing of one sort or another, either for themselves or for their partner and, sometimes both.

Of course, as I've said before, most men are more likely to be turned-on by something visual than the average woman is. For instance, there have been several attempts at launching magazines for women that include naked or semi-naked men, none have really been successful - compare that with the constant flood of 'girlie' magazines available on the market and you'll see what I mean.

So I can quite understand a guy getting turned-on by looking at a good-looking girl in something sexy - and don't mind admitting I often play on that to get a man going - and sometimes get a kick out of it myself. But I'm talking about the odd kinds of clothes that some men see as being sexy - not to mention the ways they then like to get off!

One of the best examples I can think of was a guy I saw about once a month for over a year. He always wanted exactly the same thing, never ever any variation. Nuns' habits were his thing - he may well have been a priest for all I know but somehow I doubt that, it's probably more likely that as a kid he went to a catholic school and got some sort of fixation about them then.

Anyway, he had two habits, his and mine, they looked genuine enough to me but then I wouldn't really know how to tell the genuine thing from just something he'd had made up. I had to travel to his flat, in quite an exclusive suburb I might add, a nice place, quite large, the furniture was a bit old-fashioned for my taste but well looked after and everything was always very neat and tidy. He'd let me in and once I knew the lay-out he'd leave me to find my own way to the second bed-room and get myself ready, while he went and changed in the main bed-room. Of course the first time I'd gone to see him he'd sat me down, offered me a drink and explained what he wanted me to do, when he'd finished I asked if that was all he wanted and with a sad little smile, he just nodded.

As I said, from then on I knew the routine - I had to strip down to bra, suspender-belt, stockings and high-heeled shoes, then put on the habit that was laid out on the bed for me, making sure I left just a little bit of hair sticking out from under the head-piece. He'd leave the agreed amount of cash in an envelope lying on top of the habit and every now and then, if he'd got something extra out of the performance, he'd leave a bit more in another envelope on a table just inside the front door - but I could never really see what it was that made the difference between a satisfactory and an extra special event for him. Apart from that first visit he never spoke and as I said, I never worked out why some times were better than others for him.

Once I was ready I'd go along to the main bed-room where I'd find him standing in one corner, waiting patiently for me to join him, at a casual glance looking exactly like a middle-aged nun.

I found that he didn't mind if I varied the start of the routine but once down to the serious part he wanted the identical sequence every time. So sometimes I walked slowly around the room, looking as though I was deep in thought, sometimes I'd just stand looking out of the window, sometimes I would sit for a few minutes.

But at some stage I had to notice the full-length mirror in the wardrobe door, walk over and stand in front of it and look at myself for a while - then seem to notice the stray piece of hair. I'd try to poke it back under the head-piece and when I couldn't do that I'd try adjusting the head-piece itself - and in doing that of course it would come off, letting my hair fall free. I'd stand looking at it, as though surprised to see so much of it, shake it from side to side, reach up and play with it.

By that stage, if I looked out of the corner of my eye I could tell from the slight movement at the front of the habit that he was starting to get excited. I'd worked out that underneath it he was naked and that what appeared to be pockets were merely slits, enabling him to handle himself while he watched me.

Once I was sure he was getting started I moved on to the next stage of the performance - looking down at my feet, lifting the hem of my habit a little, just high enough to show my ankles, then a little higher, a little higher. I had to do it slowly, tantalisingly, gradually increasing his rising level of excitement. When I finally had the hem high enough to show my knees I'd step back a pace or two, as though to get a better look at what I was seeing, lift one foot, then the other - then, gathering the folds of material in my hands, continue slowly lifting the habit higher still.

Usually at about that stage I'd hear him come - just a very faint gasp - once or twice I actually got the habit all the way up to my waist before he got himself off but normally he was satisfied long before that.

And that was it - that was all he wanted. I've no idea whether he had his habit dry-cleaned or whether he'd hand wash it himself - maybe he simply had a wad of tissues or something in one of his hands to collect the semen. 

Then there was the guy I'm always reminded of whenever I go to the beach. His turn-on was to have me rub sun-tan lotion into him, in his hotel room!

After the first time, when I didn't know what his speciality was of course, I always made sure I packed a swim-suit when he booked me, sometimes a bikini, sometimes a one-piece - but frankly I don't think what I wore really mattered very much to him. Like the guy with the nuns' habits, his imagination provided most of what he needed, except than in his case it was my hands he wanted, not his own.

Once I had arrived he'd get out a big beach towel, spread it on the floor, put a bottle of sun-tan lotion beside it then go off into the bath-room and change into a swim-suit. When he was ready he'd stretch himself out on the towel and I would start massaging lotion into his back.

He had a good physique, with nicely defined muscles and as he liked me to take my time I actually found it quite pleasant doing it for him, relaxing in a way. As I worked my way lower down his back I had to ease his swim-suit down over the cheeks of his arse, massage the lotion into them too and then pull it back up again before I started on the backs of his legs.

Once I had finished his back I'd roll him over and start on his chest and by that stage he would usually have a partial erection, which would of course be very obvious beneath the thin stuff they use for swimming gear. As I massaged lotion into his shoulders and chest I'd keep one eye on its development and either slow down or speed up my progress depending on how solid it was getting. Once I was sure it was fully erect I'd slip my hands lower and as he lifted his hips up off the towel I'd tug his briefs down over them, releasing his cock.

Of course by then my hands would be really slippery from the lotion and the feel of them as I gently fondled his balls and stroked up and down the hard length of his shaft must have been really exciting for him. He liked me to masturbate him slowly too - and though he kept his eyes shut and his hands straight down beside himself the whole time his little charade was going on, he did respond quite normally in every other way.

Unlike most guys that want to be jacked-off rather than fucked properly, he didn't expect me to take his cock in my mouth, realising that I couldn't do that with it covered in sun-tan lotion - or maybe he just preferred the slick feel of my hands to being sucked-off. I must say that when he finally came both the amount he'd shoot and the distance it went were more powerful than most men I've known - but I never did get to find out just what it was that was going on his head while I was getting him there.

He and the guy with the nuns' habits were at one end of the spectrum of men turned on by what was being worn, they both needed very little in the way of props for what was going on in their heads. At the other end of that spectrum I'd put a man that I knew as Tony, what he needed was far more complex.

Our actual meeting followed a long phone call during which I was several times tempted to hang up on him, mainly because he refused to tell me how he had got my number. He said it wasn't important, I said it was. Anyway, to cut a long story short he offered me a larger than usual fee, just for a chance to meet me - and, when he suggested a well known restaurant as a suitable place, although I was still a little hesitant, I agreed.

When I had he then wanted to know what I'd be wearing and at first I assumed that was so he would recognise me - but then he wanted me to give him totally unimportant details, like the actual brand and shade of lipstick, the size and style of my shoes, where I had bought the dress I'd said I would wear, stuff like that. I very nearly called the whole thing off again but there was something about his voice that intrigued me, so I just told him that if he was that interested we could talk about those things when we met - that seemed to keep him happy - but he did insist on knowing my height, weight and dress size and to bring the conversation to an end, I gave them to him.

When we met a couple of evenings later I found he was in his mid-forties, only a little bit taller than me and quite slim, with very fine, almost boyish features and absolutely perfect skin. He turned out to be quite charming, extremely polite and attentive - but the thing that really impressed me was his personal grooming, I don't just mean his clothes, which were impeccable but also things like nails and hair - everything about him was immaculate.

Once he'd ordered drinks we started to talk and I soon found out that he had a really cheeky sense of humour and in no time at all he had me laughing. Later, as we ate we chatted about a range of things and quite soon touched on clothes and fashion, a subject I found he was keenly interested in, women's as well as men's and once that came up not only did he become even more animated, I also felt that he was watching me and my reactions more intently.

It was only when we were sipping coffee that he finally asked the question - but it wasn't the one I had been expecting.

'Do you ever take women as clients Brandy?'

Sex with women wasn't something that I particularly looked for but it wasn't something I had avoided either and there had been occasions when, with the right person and under the right circumstances, I had found it extremely enjoyable. So I answered him honestly.

'Not regularly - but from time to time, yes.'

'I know that my sister would love to meet you.' he said quietly.

'On her own, or with you?' I asked.

'Aah! How perceptive, I knew you were an intelligent as well as an attractive woman Brandy.' He paused for a moment or two, his cool grey eyes looking steadily into mine. 'Let's say together - but separately. Neither of us is really interested in threesomes.'

'If she is as interesting a person as you are Tony then it could be a very pleasant evening.' I said, deciding to follow my instincts.

'Oh I think you'll find that she is.' he responded with a grin. 'But, she likes her little charade, do you have any objection to dressing-up for the part?'

'It depends on what sort of dressing-up Tony.'

'Oh, nothing too strange. Men's clothes for instance?'

'I wouldn't mind that - but I don't have anything that is particularly masculine.'

'I'm sure you don't Brandy, I wouldn't expect someone as feminine as you are to have the kind of thing she likes - but I'm sure she has some things that would fit you very well.'

'That's why you wanted to know my size.'

'One reason yes. So?'

'Why not!'

He beamed at my reply. 'Why not indeed. When? Now?'

'Where is she?'

'We have a little apartment not too far from here actually.' He looked down at his watch, looked back up into my eyes and added. 'She'll be home quite soon now. We could surprise her.'

'All right - but it will be a little expensive Tony.'

'Ah, not only intelligent and attractive - but practical too, I like that.' He took out his wallet and simply asked. 'How much?'

I replied by saying that the price depended on exactly what was involved and for how long - but he didn't seem to be listening, merely separating a number of notes from the thickish bundle in the wallet, then having folded them, he discreetly slid them across the table to me.

'If, afterwards you think it should be more than that just say so Brandy. Money isn't the problem.'

Without actually counting the money I couldn't tell exactly how much he'd given me but from the look of things it was more than I would have suggested, so I just slipped the notes into my purse and smiled back at him as I said. 'That should be fine - but I'll let you know.'

Then he was all bustle, paying the bill, finding a cab and within minutes we were outside a very exclusive looking block of apartments. As we went up in the lift I asked him what his sister's name was. He gave me a wry smile then replied. 'Our parents had a very odd sense of humour Brandy. They actually christened me Anthony and my sister Antoinette but calling us both 'Tony' - mine's with a Y and my sister's has an I, you see?'

'Make's it easier for me though.' I answered with a grin.

The apartment was beautiful, everything I'd ever hoped that one day I'd be able to afford for myself but Tony didn't give me a chance to look properly around it, simply bustled me straight through into a bed-room.

'What my sister would like Brandy is for you to remove your make-up, shower and dress in whatever you like from the things you'll find in the wardrobe, there should be plenty to choose from to fit you. Your bath-room is through here.' he explained as he walked over and opened a door to an en-suite. 'Toni should be back quite soon but take your time, there's no need to rush. When you are ready just go through to the living-room down the hall, help yourself to a drink. I'm sure she won't keep you waiting long.'

'And you Tony, where will you be?'

'Oh, don't worry about me, I'll be around. But I'll wait until after you and Toni have enjoyed yourselves. Now, I think you'll find everything you need here, is there anything else?'

'No Tony, that looks fine. I'll look for something to wear first.'

'Oh, I forgot - she would prefer it if you didn't wear anything underneath, do you mind that?'

'Of course not Tony.'

'Good, I'll leave you to it then.' he said as he left, closing the door behind him.

I stood there for a few moments, wondering just what I had let myself in for, then, having quickly counted the money he had given me, decided it was well worth finding out - and opened the wardrobe to find that it was full of all sorts of men's clothing - business suits, casual gear, chunky sweaters, silky shirts and even a whole variety of shoes!

A quick check showed that the clothes were arranged in series, by size, obviously Toni liked her 'men' in a variety of shapes - and so I was soon able to find a reasonable selection of things that I could comfortably fit into. Having picked out a sharp looking denim outfit that had cap to match, a soft shirt to go under the jacket and a pair of shoes that fitted fairly well, I laid them on the bed and then went through to the bath-room to remove the outer traces of my femininity.

Once I had showered I pinned my hair up so I could get most of it under the cap and when I turned off the overhead light and stood looking in the mirror at the finished result I surprised myself at just how good I looked as a man - and, as I felt a small tingle of excitement running through me, hoped Toni would think so too.

When I went through to the living-room I found that the lights had been dimmed there already and music was coming from a unit on one side of the room. Nearby was an open cocktail-bar so I made myself a weak drink then walked across to the picture windows that dominated the far wall and as I slowly sipped I stared down at the spectacular view of the flickering lights of the city.

I couldn't have been standing there for more than a minute or two before I heard the soft voice behind me.

'Hello.'

I turned around and saw her - tall, slim and quite lovely, standing just inside the door-way, her face in shadow, her figure silhouetted by the stronger light from the hall-way behind her.

'Hello - you must be Toni. Your brother said I should help myself to a drink, so I did, I hope you don't mind.'

'I'm glad you did, I'm sorry if I kept you waiting too long.' she replied as she came forward into the light so I could see her better.

'Not at all, I was enjoying the view. It's quite spectacular from up here.'

'Yes, we enjoy it too, especially on a warm, moonlit night, sitting outside with a cool drink.'

By then I could see her properly, she really was quite stunning. Pale auburn hair, that was thick and full and had been cut in one of the latest styles; quite short on the nape of her long elegant neck but kept full over her ears and on the crown, falling forwards in a casual- looking, shortish fringe. Her face was almost too perfect, oval shaped with large, wide-set eyes which were either a light blue or a pale grey-green colour, it was hard to be sure in the subdued light. A straight, slender nose and below that a wide, almost too full- lipped mouth - that smiled quietly as she watched me studying her. And in that smile I saw reflected the strong family resemblance she had with her brother.

As she came slowly closer I saw that she was even taller than I had first thought, quite a bit taller than myself and even allowing for the fact that she was wearing high heels I guessed that without them she would be at least as tall as Tony. But her height gave her that elegance that really top-class models need and seeing the way she carried herself I wondered if she had actually worked as one at sometime.

But the dress she was wearing wouldn't have been paid for from just modelling fees, it was exquisite and screamed Italian or French Couture. It appeared to be a mixture of a fine wool-crepe and chiffon that though it hugged her slim body still swayed gently, not allowing the eye to follow its precise shape too closely. Not the kind of dress I would even feel comfortable wearing for a night at the Opera, let alone something I might slip into to meet an escort-girl.

'I'm so glad you chose that outfit, it looks even better on you than it did when I bought it, very saucy and really very sexy - if you don't mind me saying so.' she said as she stopped just in front of me.

'Thank you. It fits surprisingly well - but now, seeing the lovely dress you have on, I feel a bit out of place in it.'

'Oh, please don't. It's always been my lucky dress - nice things have happened to me when I've worn it - I didn't put it on to impress you, I just wanted to look my best for you.'

'You look sensational.'

'Thank you. Now, how about another drink, then let's sit and chat for a while. Tell me all about yourself - well, whatever parts you feel like telling me I mean.' she added with a knowing smile as she guided me to an arm-chair, made fresh drinks, then settled herself elegantly in another chair opposite to me.

And that's how we spent the next half hour or so, I seemed to do most of the talking, Toni prompted me with questions from time to time and whenever I asked her one she quickly brought the conversation back to myself again. She was particularly interested in the young men I had met in the course of business, what they wanted of me, how they reacted, were they shy, fumbling, how did I feel when, as she put it - I had their young bodies all 'steamed-up'. And as I talked I saw her eyes staring, almost unblinkingly, wandering over my body, trying to see beneath my clothes. And I don't mind admitting that as I talked and felt the intensity of her gaze increasing the small thrill I had felt earlier gradually grew and before very long I felt a moist warmth building between my legs and then spreading out through my body.




Brandy Ch. 07-08



The one thing I wasn't too sure about was whether she wanted me to make the first move or whether she wanted to be the initiator of whatever was to follow. As the set-up was so unusual I felt it best to wait - and as things turned out I had made the right choice.

'Let me re-fill your glass.' she said, getting up and reaching out for my glass.

'Not for me, thank you Toni. I'm not a very big drinker.'

'How wise. Then neither will I.'

She put the nearly empty glasses on the cabinet then instead of returning to her chair, came around behind mine and rested her hands on my shoulder, then as she slid them slowly down along my arms, I felt her lips lightly brushing the nape of my neck.

'Such beautiful skin, I'm really quite envious.' she whispered. 'Relax - sit still for a minute, I'd like to be able to feel more of it.' she said as her fingers began to work on the buttons down the front of my shirt.

When she had unfastened them she eased the jacket and shirt off my shoulders then gently pushed me forwards so she could reach the upper part of my back with her lips and hands - softly touching it, tracing the outline of my shoulder-blades, brushing me with her lips, the tip of her tongue lightly licking up the ridge of my spine.

She took her time and her touch was so sensitive that I was quite happy to remain like that, bent low, my breasts squashed against my legs, her fingers and mouth tracing exciting pattern across and up and down my back. But gradually the pressure of her touch grew stronger and after a while she whispered.

'Stand up please, so I can reach the rest of you.'

As I got up she came around the chair, turned me to face it and as I undid the zip at the front, she knelt behind me and eased the trousers down over my hips. Then, having taken the jacket and shirt completely off me, leaving me standing there quite naked, she began to run her soft hands up and down my back, down over my hips and the firm curve of my bottom. I felt her breath on my back as she urged me forward, quietly suggesting I should kneel on the chair.

I held on to the back of it for support as she eased my legs further apart, then began to repeat the things she had been doing to me before - this time kissing and caressing not only my back but also the backs of my thighs, my bottom and, in time, beneath and between the fleshy cheeks.

She used fingers and tongue to arouse me, knowing just when to change from one to another, sensing what I wanted her to do almost before I knew it myself and soon had me making soft sighing moans of pleasure as I gave myself up to what she was doing for me.

After what seemed an absolute age I felt her ease back from me, heard the sound of a zip, then the rustle of her getting out of her dress and wondered if I should get up and start to do something for her. But the feelings she had aroused had put me into a mild torpor and, as she was quicker than I expected, before I could really do anything, I felt her hands resting on my bottom again. They slipped down along the valley between the twin cheeks, beneath, her fingers gently probing the hot wetness of my pussy before spreading my legs a little further apart - then I felt the hard length of something being slowly urged forward, between my puffy pussy-lips and on, deep into my sex.

At first I assumed it was a strap-on dildo - but, as it slid deeper into me I recognised it for what it really was - it was a cock, a hard, fully erect, man's cock!

In a flash I understood what was going on of course - and wondered why I hadn't twigged to it earlier. It was Tony, there was no sister, just Tony - with an unusually strange and complex need. Understanding that changed what was going on in my head, what he was doing was still physically enjoyable - but the extra level of pleasure, that I had felt as a result of thinking he was a she, slipped away and once more I knew that I was back in control of things, not under Toni's, as I had been.

Soon after that I felt his fingers on my bum-hole, they were lubricating it with something greasy - obviously he wanted to fuck me that way, the initial strokes into my pussy were merely to relax me and to provide his shaft with a coating of my juices. I composed myself and let him get on with it - pushing back at him as I heard his grunts of pleasure getting both louder and more frequent. As I'd suspected, once inside my arse he didn't take very long at all and quite soon after that I felt him pumping strongly up into me as his climax overwhelmed him.

Later, after I had showered and got back into my own things I returned to the living-room and found him sitting in the chair we had used, nursing another drink, still quite naked, his wilted cock almost buried out of sight between his legs. He looked up at me, there was an incredibly sad expression on his face as he spoke.

'That was wonderful Brandy. Thank you. I'd like you to buy something nice for yourself.' he added, indicating some money lying on the table beside me. I picked it up of course, said I was glad he'd enjoyed himself - turned and let myself out of the apartment.

Naturally I never heard from him again - it wouldn't have been the same for him with the other person knowing beforehand that his 'sister' was merely a role he played. For things to work for him he not only had to believe that he was Toni, he had to be certain that the girl - who in his mind was presumably a 'boy' - had to believe it too.

As I said, I'd put Tony and his unusual needs at the far end of the spectrum of things to do with clothes and dressing, most men are much less complex than that. Pure cross-dressers, that is men who like to wear women's clothes, are usually quite happy to do so in the privacy of their own home and rarely seek out escort-girls as companions when they do it. In my business when dressing is involved it's far more usual for the man to want me to wear something special for him - and the single most common request is of course - for me to wear, stockings! Men loathe panty-hose, at least when they're being worn by a woman they want to have sex with.

Men love being able to see a flash of the pale, rounded curve of a thigh above a stocking-top, I don't think I've ever met a man who didn't agree that was one of the most exciting sights for him - that and an unexpected glimpse of part of a breast are guaranteed to attract the attention of virtually any man's eye.

So because of that I have drawers full of stockings and suspender belts of all types and colours, to go with every kind of outfit, I virtually never wear panty-hose and I'd go through more pairs of stockings than you could believe, mainly because I'm so often asked to keep them on while having sex, there's something about the feel of them that gets most men going - but doing that nearly always ladders them!

But, as I said when I started talking about the odd kinds of clothes that some men see as being sexy and the ways they then like to get off, you would be amazed at how often I'm asked if I'll dress up in some particular way by men who in every other respect, unlike Tony or the man with the 'funny habits', want perfectly straightforward sex.

Nurses are popular and I must say I now know enough to make a very good one, another escort-girl I made friends with turned out to have been a nurse before she took up this work and she gave me plenty of tips. I've even got myself a small bag of proper instruments, stethoscope, blood-pressure binding, thermometer - I always take temperatures rectally - and a few other bits and pieces that really turn-on the guys who want to screw a nurse.

Airline hostesses were popular at one time but they seem to have gone out of fashion these days, I don't know whether that's because the type of girls they accept for the job are less glamorous than they used to be - or whether the hostesses are doing the fucking themselves!

I can only think that there's a lot of frustrated businessmen spending time fantasising about their, or somebody else's secretary - because I'm often asked to play that role. You can imagine the kind of thing - 'Take a letter please Miss Smith. Mumble, mumble, mumble. By the way, have I told you how attractive you look today, that's a particularly nice outfit. Mumble, mumble, mumble. Haven't you done something different with your hair? Mumble, mumble, mumble. Would you mind just coming over here and taking a look at this document, I can't quite make this part out. Mumble, mumble, mumble. That's a new perfume you are wearing isn't it? Mumble, mumble, mumble. I really find it rather disturbing having you standing so close to me. Mumble, mumble, mumble. Do you want to see the effect you are having on me? Mumble, mumble, mumble. Would you like to do something about that for me?'

But I suppose that without any doubt at all, the all-time favourite has to be the school-girl! The number of men like the one I mentioned earlier, Frank - the one I call the School-Teacher - who secretly want to have it off with teen-agers, is fantastic. And I suppose girls like me are, in an odd sort of a way, performing a social function - by relieving the guys of that pressure we must save a few kids from actually being raped. Not that I'm saying that every man that fantasises about fucking a school-girl is eventually going to go out and rape one, I'm not that stupid. But there must be the odd one here and there that might just do it - and if he comes to someone like me instead, that's great.

Anyway, apart from that, after the stockings, being asked to dress-up as a school-girl is one of the most common requests I get that involves clothes. I've bought several actual school uniforms, hat, bag, exercise books, pencil case and even a few second-hand text books, the full kit - and if I say so myself, I make a pretty terrific school-girl. Of course not every man wants the girl to be in a formal uniform and for them I just tone down my normal make-up, pop my hair up into a pony-tail or pigtails and pick an appropriate outfit from my own, casual clothes.

It's funny, you'd think that the guys who wanted me to dress like that for them would also want me to be submissive and while that's certainly true if there is to be a bit of spanking involved - in other cases its quite often the reverse, many men want the school-girl to come on to them quite strongly.

As I said, apart from the dressing-up, which is usually just to get things going, once under way most guys are quite satisfied with some good old-fashioned, straight sex. Both oral and anal sex are popular too - presumably because a lot of guys don't get it from their wives or girl-friends which may often be just because they haven't been game to suggest it in the first place - both with and without any dressing-up involved and for an appropriate fee I'm more than happy to oblige them either way.

But I suppose when it comes to bizarre reasons for wanting me to wear some particular clothes, I'd have to put Chuck somewhere near the top of the list - and for him it was the colour, black.





Brandy Ch. 07-08



And during those years I've either worked with or at least met just about every top person in the business, from the artists who do the drawings, to the photographers and producers who put the finished product together.

I'm also a man, with the normal needs and desires of a man - been married three times and in between those I've been with more women than I like to remember. But I've never met that one, really special woman. Oh I've felt sure I was in love, many times - but she's never quite come up to my expectations - and don't get me wrong, I'm sure I've been hell to get along with and created a lot of the problems myself.' he added.

'Well a few years ago now, just after my third marriage finally broke-up, things were particularly tough in the industry, production houses closing down, guys I've known for years were losing their jobs - really depressing times all round. I was having a few drinks with a group of guys one evening, over half of them had recently found they were out of work, you might say it was a sort of wake. Anyway, as the evening wore on, after we'd griped about the state of the business, then talked about the economy, the politicians who'd helped wreck it, we got around to sport and, eventually of course to women and sex. And, as a result of that, one of the guys admitted that he was thinking about trying for a job in the production of porno cartoons - there's quite a demand for those you know, just like porno movies.

Most of the stuff is terrible, professionally speaking, cheaply produced, badly drawn, little creative talent - just like most of the actual porno movies. The people that buy the stuff don't have too much choice and most of them find it too embarrassing to complain even when they feel they've been ripped off. But the guy needed work and couldn't afford to be choosy.

The thought didn't come to me at that time and even later it wasn't as if I'd had a sudden, blinding flash of inspiration, it sort of crept up on me over the next few weeks. I was seeing a few girls, found they were either beautiful but dumb or beautiful but a lousy lay - or both - and frankly was getting pretty frustrated with the whole sex thing, thinking I could get more satisfaction out of a good wank.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I eventually came up with the idea of producing my own animated, porno movie - not necessarily as a commercial proposition you understand, it was more a question of having something constructive to channel both my sex drive and my creativity into. I could certainly afford it, there were more than enough guys out of a job who would jump at the chance of getting a bit of work, any kind of work and who knows, I might actually end up with something saleable at the end of it.

Having got to that point I spent even more time thinking about what I wanted it to be, saw a hell of a lot of regular porno cartoons and movies during that time - and ended up mostly making notes about what I didn't want. Anyway, once I'd got a few concrete ideas down on paper I called up a few of the guys that were still out of a job, got them together one evening and put the proposition to them. I figured there'd be six to twelve months work involved, I said I'd back them financially, pay them a retaining wage for up to a year and that although I'd take on the role of producer and hold the copyright to the finished product, if it did sell, we'd split the earnings equally on the basis of the amount of time put into it. That way if any of the guys found another job they'd still get something back for the time they'd already put into the project.

A couple of them thought it wasn't the kind of thing they wanted to be involved in but the rest of them got as enthusiastic about it as I was and two or three weeks later, having found some cheap but suitable premises we had our first planning meeting. I already had a rough outline of the story and knew how I wanted the film to look but there were dozens of things that had to be sorted out and we were there well into the night before we'd thrashed most of them out.

Animators have specialities, just like anyone else, some are technically brilliant, some are great set designers, others specialise in other aspects of the process. The rarest guys are those who can animate people, make them look realistic I mean, it's the most difficult part of animation, that's one reason why real people are rarely used in cartoons - and we were planning to produce a film that had nothing but real people in it. Luckily we had two top guys in the group and I asked them both to spend a week or so, working separately, developing suggestions for the illustrations of the main characters.

One of the great things about animation is the way you can cheat reality, you can get away with having characters doing things that verge on the physically impossible, if you do it carefully, the viewer believes it. The girls these guys developed were like that, legs longer than were normally possible, shapes that would probably be impossible to find, features almost too perfect to be true - but done so subtly that the brain accepted what you were looking at were drawings of real people.

The guys had taken some of the drawings beyond the first stages, got down to basics you might say and had not only done nude and semi-nude illustrations of a few of the girls but had done some showing them in the act, having sex I mean.

I don't mind admitting that just looking through those illustrations started to give me a hard-on - and I figured if they did that for me, the guy in the street would react in an even more dramatic way.

But though there were some gorgeous girls there wasn't one there that had that had that special something, I couldn't describe it but I knew I'd know it when I saw it. So having selected three or four from the work they had done and asked the guys to work-up more detailed drawings of those, I also asked them both to do sketches of a few more girls. Well, a few days later they called me over to look at what they'd got and amongst another half dozen suggestions, I found you!

The cell on the wall is a finished version of that very first drawing - Bill, the guy who'd created it must have known he'd got what we were looking for because he'd done a whole series of drawings of you, sorry, her. In various clothes, in just bra and panties, naked and in action - having sex I mean. But in every single drawing she was in something black and even those where she was naked he'd left her with something on, stockings, a bracelet or necklace, always something - and everything she wore was black, that was her trade-mark if you like. We kept that idea, it was too good to lose - and of course the girl, we eventually called her Samantha, became the star of the film.

Bill had done one of her going down on a guy - as I'd asked them to do, he'd done it as the scene would look to the man - my idea was that the camera would act as his eyes - so I was looking down at her, kneeling at my feet, looking straight up into my eyes, her hand lightly curled around the shaft of my fully erect cock, her full, moist lips just closing over the glossy head. It was sensational and the effect it had on me - and my cock - was amazing! As I stood staring down at the drawing I felt blood surging into it and if the guys hadn't been standing beside me I know I'd have got myself off right there and then.'

By that stage we'd finished the delicious meal and most of the champagne so when he took the plates away he returned with a new bottle and as he opened it and re-filled my glass he said.

'So now I imagine you can guess what I'd like you to do for me Brandy.'

'I think so Chuck. You'd like me to watch the film with you - and at an appropriate time, play the part of the real-life Samantha.'

'Yes. Do you have a problem with that?'

'No Chuck, no problem.'

'Great! I could screen it in here but we'd be a bit cramped for space, so we'll go through to the main viewing room. Oh, and bring your glass with you, I'll bring the rest of the bottle.'

Next to the Trophy Room was another, bigger room - presumably the projector was in yet another, between the two - with a number of arm chairs and sofas set facing a large screen. Chuck pointed me to one of the sofas and as he disappeared through a door in the rear wall, said. 'Make yourself comfortable, while I fix the film.'

He was only gone a minute or two and when he returned and sat down beside me he had another remote control device which he used to lower the lights and then start the film.

It was beautifully made, as he had said, the drawings had a strangely real feel about them and as time passed I found I had to keep reminding myself that I was seeing cartoons and not flesh and blood people. But they hadn't given up the advantages that cartoons have, the special effects, the magic, they were all there, making the pictures themselves a sheer delight to watch.

The story was fairly simple with enough romance and suspense between the actual sex scenes to maintain interest. Samantha, who was a model, shared a rented house with two other girls, one of them, Jill, worked in some sort of library and the third, Meg, was an airline stewardess. Meg and Jill had boy friends, nice, quite good-looking guys but Samantha was apparently still getting over a relationship that had recently broken-up.

The relationships were quickly set-up and there was some sex quite early on, following a birthday party for Jill, when her and Meg's boy-friend had stayed on overnight. I've seen more than my fair share of porno movies of course and although the film was just as explicit as most of them are it managed to show the sex scenes in a nicer, less clinical, more romantic way. Between the shots of the two couples the film cut-away to Samantha, alone in her room, from where she could hear the muffled sounds of what was going on in the other bed-rooms and giving herself a lonely, obviously less than completely satisfactory climax.

I could see what Chuck had meant about cartoons giving the artists a chance to improve on reality - the bodies and Samantha's in particular were spectacular - and while the camera was almost lovingly displaying every curve and movement I sneaked a glance out of the corner of my eye, to see his reaction. But though it was obvious from the way he was staring that he was being turned on he didn't appear to need anything from me just then, so I relaxed and continued watching the action on the screen.

As he had also said, they had included Samantha's 'trade-mark', as he had called it - in that first bed-room scene it was just a pair of ear-rings, tiny black studs.

However, as well as giving us a chance to meet the main characters and giving us our first sex-scenes, it was also established that there was something creepy going on. From time to time during the party and again later, while the sexual activity was taking place, the camera cut away to outside the house, where the figure of a man was prowling around, looking in through the windows. The shots looking in from outside were shown as though we were whoever it was that was skulking in the shadows and although what he was looking at was what we'd seen from inside the house, the scenes looked quite different, coarser, somehow more lascivious - giving the impression that he was definitely not a nice person to know.

Although he spent time watching the two couples he was obviously far more interested in Samantha and for a while you got the feeling he was going to break in and rape her. But then you saw that he'd got his cock out and as he continued to peer through the crack in the curtain at her getting herself off, he was masturbating too - and then there was a final shot of his cum splattering against the wall of the house.

The following day Meg had to leave on a trip that would keep her away from home for a few days and Jill and her boy-friend had apparently already planned to go off somewhere together for the day, leaving Samantha on her own and as they were getting ready to leave they urged her to forget her previous boy-friend and find someone new.

As they left the camera cut away again and you saw them through the eyes of the man from the previous night and found out that he was living in a house that backed on to the one where the girls were, just the two gardens separating them and that time he was watching through a pair of high-powered binoculars. Once Samantha was on her own he tracked her as she moved around inside the house and when she went to the other side and he could no longer see her, we saw inside his room - the walls were covered with pictures of her, cut from magazines, making it was clear that he was quite obsessed with her.

Next we see Samantha heading off somewhere in her car, a little sports car and as it was a fine day she had the top down and so there were plenty of opportunities for shots showing off her legs and breasts. She kept recalling what her friends had told her, that she should find a new man and then, while she's out shopping she bumped into one, well he bumped into her actually, as she was coming around the end of an aisle in the supermarket. He was a bit of all-right too, tall and well-built, fair haired and with piercingly blue eyes.

In the bump she dropped her bag, scattering the contents into his shopping trolley and down over the floor and as he helped her collect them the camera showed us her through his eyes and him through hers - and whether it's love or just plain lust at first sight doesn't really matter, the chemistry is obvious. But then without giving him time to say anything, she moved off, leaving him standing there, looking longingly after her as she walked away from him.

Then we saw Samantha aimlessly wandering through the shopping centre, recalling his face, the curve of his arse as he bent over to pick up the things out of her bag, the interesting bulge in the crotch of his jeans - and sensed that she was understandably cross with herself for not giving him more time to make some sort of a move.

From there she went off to a studio for a modelling session and we saw her in a variety of clothes, including a long, black evening gown which I immediately recognised from the cell on the wall in the Trophy Room. Again the camera gave us plenty of opportunities to admire her face and body and she was so stunningly sensual that I found that I was being sexually aroused by watching her, could well understand why Chuck had given her a place of honour amongst his collection - and found myself wondering just how many men had got themselves off while watching her.

Meanwhile Jill and her boy-friend Bob had returned from their day out together, she seemed a little drunk and Bob was quite obviously very horny - she was wearing a pair of tight little shorts and an equally tight T-shirt and he couldn't keep his eyes or his hands off the swelling curves of her arse and breasts. But something or other had upset her and she was fending off every approach he made, which of course eventually got him mad and he stormed off, leaving her to regret her silly temper and sulkily pour herself another drink, a large one.

All the time that was going on we were aware that Mr. Creepy had been watching them and when Jill took the drink to her room we saw him checking out the rest of the darkened house and, finding that she was there alone we followed him as he made his way down through his garden, through a hole in the fence and then on towards the girls' house.

Having stripped and finished her drink, Jill appeared to have collapsed on her bed in a stupor and when Mr. Creepy peeked through the window and saw her lying sprawled out like that he found a way in through an unlocked window, blindfolded her and tied up her hands. As he disturbed her she partially came to of course but because in her confused state of mind she thought it was Bob that had come back she didn't resist him. From what little she said it was clear that she had secretly fantasised about a bit of light B & D with him - and while she was imagining it was Bob that was immobilising her Mr. Creepy was imagining it was Samantha he was doing it to so the visual scenes got a bit complex.

As she hadn't tried to cry out he hadn't bothered to gag her and so he first had her suck his cock, which she did eagerly, then he turned her around and fucked her from the rear. In spite of his perverted mind he had a good-enough body and sufficient staying power to give Jill a better than average climax before he withdrew, slipped his cock between the fleshy cheeks of her arse and spurted his stuff high up over her back. After that he loosened the cords that bound her wrists and while she was getting out of them, he slipped quickly away from their house and back to his own, leaving Jill in a thoroughly confused state when she found herself alone.

After a few minutes she picked up the phone and called Bob, and was even more bewildered and frightened by what had happened when she found he was home. She looked wildly around the room, thinking whoever had fucked her might still be there, told a confused but relieved Bob that she was coming over, threw some clothes on and fled out of the house.

Back in his room again we saw Mr. Creepy looking back at her through his binoculars and looking at the pictures of Samantha on his wall. Muttering to himself. 'Not the one, not the right one!' Getting angry with himself - and with his cock - and as he fingered the various pictures, in spite of the climax he'd only just had, we saw it starting to get hard again.

Then the scene shifts to the guy Samantha had met in the supermarket, he'd only just got back to his place and as he finally got round to unpacking his shopping he found a small credit-card wallet caught up in one of the things, it was Samantha's of course and had her address and phone number inside it. But as Jill had just left and Samantha was only just finishing her modelling session there was nobody there to answer when he rang.

Meanwhile Samantha finished her session at the studio and drove home and as she took a shower we saw what was going on in her head, she was still thinking about the guy in the supermarket and she imagined what might have happened if she had given him half a chance - what he might look like beneath his clothes - what he might want to do to her - what she might do to him - and in between those arousing scenes we got close-ups of her hands slowly caressing various parts of her soapy body.

The camera gave us another chance to get a really good look at her gorgeous body - from two viewpoints, what I thought of as the romantic one and also from the perverted voyeur's, as he got himself and his cock even more excited by peering across at her through his binoculars.

Once again he crept through the garden and entered the house and although he took Samantha by surprise as she was about to get dressed she of course wasn't as acquiescent as Jill had been and even when he threatened her with a large knife he was forced to use the blindfold to gag her screams and then tied her up far more securely. As he stood over her, her terrified eyes staring up at him as he played with his swollen, inflamed cock, we saw what was going on in his mind, considering the various things he might do to her.

Just then the door-bell rang - as he hadn't been able to reach her by phone the guy who had found her wallet had driven over to the address it had inside it. Mr. Creepy ignored the bell, assuming that whoever it was would simply go away - but as he could see a light on inside the house our hero's curiosity was aroused and he made his way around the back, where he found the open window the pervert had used. Once inside he moved quietly and soon found the partly open door to the bed-room and saw what was happening - Samantha bound and naked, Mr. Creepy standing over her, his cock in one hand and the knife in the other - and he didn't hesitate, he burst in and having knocked the knife away there was a brief fight.




Brandy Ch. 07-08



Mr. Creepy managed to connect with a wild swing and made his escape but the guy saw where he was heading and after releasing Samantha, rang the police. There was a flurry of activity, the police cornered Mr. Creepy in his room, saw the binoculars, the pictures of Samantha and took him away.

Samantha had recovered a bit by that time, found out the name of her rescuer - Grant - and how it had come about that he had arrived when he did, just in the nick of time. But although she knew the attacker was safely behind bars she was still very nervous and when she asked Grant if he would mind spending the night in the house he was naturally enough delighted to oblige - and, as in real life, one thing led to another...

Although the earlier sex scenes had been good, those between Samantha and Grant were spectacular - and were obviously what Chuck had been waiting for. But Samantha and Grant didn't just leap into bed with each other, there was a nice, steady build-up before that. They chatted as they got some food ready for themselves and you could feel the tension building between them as we saw each of them through the other's eyes. She was wearing a light house-coat, black of course and although it covered her it certainly didn't conceal the shape of her body beneath it and as she moved around Grant caught frequent glimpses of the swell of her breasts and of her long, lean legs - and through Samantha's eyes we saw the effect those glimpses had on him, when she sneaked the occasional look at a steadily growing bulge in the front of his jeans. I hadn't missed noticing that Samantha also had on a small necklace of black beads, worn tight around her neck and which looked remarkably similar to the choker I had on.

As that was happening Chuck got up and began to take off his clothes, indicating that I should do the same and as we stripped I kept one eye on the screen, so I'd know just what he wanted of me - and remembered not to take off the choker.

They ate and chatted together for a while but their conversation gradually slowed, their looks became even more intense and you could feel their mutual attraction building. When they returned the dishes to the kitchen and while Samantha had her back to him Grant slipped his arms around her and kissed the curve between her neck and shoulder, finally murmuring how much he wanted her - Samantha turned and the look in her eyes said all he needed to know, that she wanted him just as much.

The scene cut to the bed-room, where Grant was stripped, standing beside the bed, Samantha, also naked except for the necklace, lay looking up at him, especially his long, stiff cock and sighed with obvious pleasure as he got up beside her and began to kiss and caress her body. Having brought her nipples up to spiky points he slid one hand down between her thighs and eased them apart, then moved down to kneel between them and began to slowly kiss and lick her receptive pussy.

Chuck had me sit on the edge of the sofa and lie back so that he could do the same to me and as in the film Grant brought Samantha up to her first climax very slowly, he had plenty of time to enjoy arousing me. Of course as he did that he had his back to the screen and couldn't see what was happening but he must have either known the precise timing of the sequence or taken his cue from the sound-track because as Samantha's response to Grant's mouth and tongue grew steadily stronger, Chuck intensified his actions and it didn't take too much effort for me to simulate a rolling climax similar to the one Samantha was experiencing.

I guessed what was to come after that and as the pair on the screen clung together, kissing and fondling each other I got up and changed places with Chuck - taking the opportunity to move the sofa sideways to the screen, so while he could still comfortably watch the action - by turning myself a little, so could I.

Then the scene Chuck had mentioned earlier began, the one showing Samantha's full, moist lips slipping slowly over Grant's bulging cock-head. Glancing up, I saw Chuck looking first at the screen and then down at me and as I did what Samantha was doing I heard him let out a deep, sighing groan of pleasure and felt his cock grow even longer, thicker and harder as I slowly took it deep inside my mouth and then relaxed my throat so I could swallow all of it.

The film-makers surpassed themselves, continuing to use the technique of showing the action through the eyes of one or other of the couple on screen and as I could see from Chuck's reactions that the scenes that followed were even more powerfully arousing than those that had gone before I again found myself wondering just how many times he and other men had masturbated themselves while imagining Samantha was sucking them off.

Unlike the porno films I'd seen, where the camera is constantly cutting away from the action, to the man or woman's face and taking the shot from a series of different angles, they showed that entire scene from just two aspects, Grant's and Samantha's - and gave plenty of time to each. And as Chuck had said, because it was all animation they had been able to stretch reality. The fingers that curled around the massive shaft and fondled the tightly swollen balls were almost impossibly long. The lips fuller, the mouth wider, the throat deeper than any man could expect a normal girl's to be. As Samantha skilfully manipulated it, Grant's cock grew to an amazing size too - the envy of any man - and I might add, the dream of many women. And of course unnecessary parts of the body never got in the way or blocked a clear view of the exciting action.

Samantha took Grant to the very brink of his climax, then held him there for a while longer by slowing her movements, making them more intermittent, before she slid herself up over him and kneeled astride his legs, her pussy poised above his tautly quivering cock. While the camera lingered on that shot I pulled a cushion off the sofa and told Chuck to lie on the floor, slipping the cushion up under his arse, arching his body so I could get his cock even deeper inside me.

The film showed Samantha's body shifting to a variety of positions, many of which would have been completely impossible - I didn't even try to compete, instead I maintained a steady rhythm up and down Chuck's shaft, letting the combination of what he was seeing on the screen and what was going on inside his head do the rest. The effect of that mixture was soon made apparent by the increasing strength of his reactions, his deep gasping groans of pleasure and the way his rigid body thrust his rock-hard cock powerfully up into me.

When she felt Grant was about to come Samantha put her hands on the floor behind herself and, taking her weight on her arms, arched her body - then, pushing herself slightly forwards, as she let Grant's cock slip out of her she held it in the slippery channel formed by her pouting pussy-lips.

The shots that followed were even more erotic than all those that had come before. Looking down through Samantha's eyes it was made to look as though the rearing mass of his cock had somehow become another part of her own body. From Grant's perspective, looking down along himself, the cock looked gigantic - the rigid, thickly veined shaft being partially enclosed by Samantha's swollen and moistly pink pussy - the bloated cock-head, glistening with a mixture of her juices and the clear drops of pre-cum that oozed from its tip, rearing against the back-drop formed by the mass of her curly, black pubic hair.

As we watched the powerful images I felt Chuck tensing, his cock opening me up even more as semen was pumped up into it from his overflowing balls below, every muscle in his body becoming taut, flexing as he thrust himself harder up into me.

By jerking her hips up and down Samantha was able to provide the final bit of stimulation Grant needed to actually climax and when, just a few seconds later he came, it was so explosively that the first thick gouts of semen shot high above them, splattering both their bodies as it fell, while Samantha urged many more, only slightly less powerful jets from his convulsing body.

Chuck came then too - as he threw back his head and his face was contorted by the intensity of what he was experiencing, deep, guttural cries broke from his throat and I felt his cock blast the first load high up into me. Then his entire body convulsed and his groans of pleasure grew even louder as he pumped, again and again and again, filling me to over-flowing.

As Samantha fell forwards, crushing their semen smeared bodies together I urged the final, weaker spurts from Chuck, watching the froth formed by what was leaking back out of me dribbling down over him.

When he had finished he reached for the remote control unit and turned off the film, telling me there was more but that he was so utterly drained that he'd rather keep the rest for another time together.

But I never did get to see it. He was killed in a light-plane crash only a week or two after that. Apparently he was looking at possible locations for a new movie and when coming down to land on a small, country landing-strip the plane hit some power-lines and the pilot, Chuck and another man were killed instantly. I often wonder what might have happened if he hadn't died - who knows, I might be a famous movie-star by now!





Brandy Ch. 09-10



The following material is sexually explicit erotica.

If you are offended by hard-core pornography close this file.

Chapter 9

THE COP

But every now and then I do get a really strange request involving both the clothes I'm to wear and what the man wants to happen. Will was an example of that, the man I mentioned earlier, the one who just wanted me to put on a 'show' for him - but like the 'nun' he preferred to satisfy himself, only needed me there as visual stimulation. The man I think of as 'the cop' was a better example of a man who wanted me to create a total scenario for him.

I'm sure he wasn't a policeman but the 'cop' is what I always think of when I think of him, as I do from time to time. Like most clients he knew somebody who had been with me but unlike most he said that what he'd like us to do was a bit complicated and so he'd like to send me a description, so I could look it over and that he'd then ring back in a few days to see if I was prepared to go along with it.

I don't like giving out the address of wherever I happen to be living and so have always rented a mail box just in case there is ever any need for clients to contact me that way. He must have sat down and written up his instructions as soon as he'd put the phone down because the envelope was there the following day and when I read through them the first time I must say that my initial reaction wasn't too good. But he'd anticipated my nervous hesitation and included assurances that absolutely nothing more than what he'd written would happen to me, had included an amount of cash as a 'deposit' as he called it and said how much it would mean to him if I would go along with his idea.

Things had been a bit quiet and his idea intrigued me so, when he rang a couple of days later, after I had asked him a few more questions, really just to get him talking, so I could get an idea of the man behind the scheme, I agreed and we arranged a date and time.

I was to wear dark clothes, preferably black - sweater, pants, any sort of running shoes, some sort of hat to cover my hair and to take a single stocking and a couple of other things with me.

It was dark by the time I called a cab and gave the driver the address I'd been given and got there a little after the time we had arranged, the house was quite ordinary, with a garage on one side and a narrow path-way running down the other, just as he had described. I paid off the cab, went through the front-garden and stopped beside the house to put the stocking over my head and cover it with the hat. You see he wanted me to burgle the house!

He'd drawn a sketch of the lay-out and I found the window he'd asked me to use and outside of it the box he said he'd leave so I could climb up and get into the house. Once inside the bed-room I closed the window behind me and used a little torch I'd brought to find the envelope he had said would be there, the rest of my money was inside it, then I went into my burglar routine, opening and closing drawers as though looking for loot.

He kept me waiting for several minutes, perhaps standing outside the door, monitoring my progress around the room then, when I was busy with a small chest of drawers he burst in, waving what was obviously some sort of toy gun and telling me in a fierce voice to 'Stop!' or he'd shoot.

His notes had outlined what was to follow next - in the semi-darkness he was supposed not to realise that I was a woman and of course my voice was muffled by having the stocking over my head, so he either didn't understand or simply ignored my pleas for mercy, shaking his head, saying he was going to ring the cops - but that first he'd have to make sure I didn't escape. The next bit is what had originally concerned me, he was to tie my hands behind my back - I've never got involved in B & D and didn't like the idea of being made semi-helpless in a strange house. But he'd agreed on the phone that he would only tie them very loosely, just to keep up the pretence - and he was as good as his word.

Once he'd done that he said he'd have to get a look at me so he could describe me to the police and of course when he took off the hat and stocking he was amazed to find that he'd caught a female burglar. Then, without the stocking I was able to make myself heard properly and said I'd been driven to what I'd done because my parents were dead, I had just lost my job and I had a kid sister to support - that I hadn't taken anything and that I'd do anything for him, if he didn't call the police.

He looked me up and down, licked his lips nervously and asked me what I meant by 'anything'. I replied excitedly. 'Anything, anything at all!' Then in a softer voice added. 'You're a good-looking man, I could fancy you. Would you like me to give you a blow job? Or would you rather fuck me? Anyway you like!' He paused, apparently thinking about that, reached out and touched me, lightly running his fingers over my breast, finding out that I wasn't wearing a bra beneath the thin sweater and then on down over the curve of my hip.

After a minute or two he said 'O.K. But I can't risk you running out on me, I'll have to keep your hands tied-up until afterwards.'

The knots he'd used to tie my hands were so slack that I knew I could slip them off without any trouble, obviously it was the idea of me being tied-up that was the important part of his fantasy so I smiled and nodded, saying that in that case he'd have to get me undressed - and that as I couldn't lie down for him, he'd have to fuck me from the back while I knelt on the edge of the bed.

He got out of his own trousers and pants first, letting me see that he had become excited by our play-acting, his cock was already virtually fully erect, a nice straight one, thin but quite long enough. Then he got my slacks and panties off, pressing his face up against my stomach and kissing his way down through the bush of hair beneath, his gentle touch actually setting off a few little sparks inside me. With my hands tied he couldn't get my sweater off of course but when he stood he eased it up over my breasts and spent a while caressing and nibbling each of them in turn, which was also quite nice and added to the faint arousal he had already started for me.

When he'd had enough of that he helped me up on to the edge of the bed and as I couldn't use my arms to support myself, pulled down a pillow for me to rest my head on as I bent low for him. Then, having first felt between my legs and found that what he'd done had started moistening my pussy, spent a minute or two increasing the flow by slipping his fingers inside it, up and down the crack between the cheeks of my bottom and then back between my thighs and up over the tender nub of my clit. So, by the time he actually guided the swollen bulb of his cock-head between my pussy-lips I was more than ready for it - I was quite looking forward to having him inside me.

As he had with everything else he'd done, he was considerate, gentle and thorough - very thorough! In fact for a while I was beginning to wonder if he was ever actually going to climax - and he didn't just keep going at the same speed, every now and then he'd change from long, deep strokes to shorter, sharper little jabs, using just the tip of his cock - which drove me wild, the sharp curve at the base of it triggering little shocks as it rubbed back and forth between my sensitive pussy-lips.

But eventually I sensed he was building-up to it, his hands gripped my hips tighter, his grunts of pleasure got louder and he started thrusting himself faster, plunging his cock even deeper - then I felt it swelling and almost immediately after that, he screamed and repeatedly slammed himself hard up against my bottom as he pumped load after load of his boiling semen high up inside me.

When he'd finished he amazed me by sitting down on the floor, his back against the end of the bed and then lifting himself, so he could reach my dripping pussy with his mouth. He not only sucked out his own semen, he then went on licking and sucking at it and the hard ridge of my clit until he brought on my own climax.

Later, when we had both showered and he'd poured us a drink I grinned and said. 'Your note didn't say anything about the finale you had planned.' Telling him how pleasantly surprised I'd been by the climax. He said that he hadn't planned that but as I had given him such a marvellous orgasm it was the least he could do for me. There should be more customers like that!

But actually that reminds me of another, who in his own strange way was just as considerate and also gave me almost as much pleasure as he got himself - but first let me tell you about someone who pleasure came mainly from their own imagination, with only a little help from outside.

TO BE CONTINUED

Chapter 10

THE COLLECTOR

It's amazing the lengths some men will go to and the time and money they'll spend to create a particular sexual environment for themselves. Will, the man who just wanted to look up women's legs, was one. Chuck, the millionaire was another. A third was Richard - and over the years he must have spent as much, if not more than the other two had between them - and the result certainly classified his tastes as being, well at least a little bit bizarre.

He collected images. Images of women of course, all sorts of images - paintings, photographs, books, statuettes - you name it.

When I first met him I didn't know anything about that of course, like most of my clients he heard about me through a friend or business associate and after a brief chat on the phone we arranged to meet for dinner at one of my preferred hotels. We ate, talked, went up to the room he'd booked and had sex - perfectly straightforward sex, nothing strange or kinky. He was pleasant enough, very attentive and considerate and after we had finished and I was about to leave he said he looked forward to seeing me again.

Plenty of men say that, I guess they feel they have to say something - it's a bit like a guy saying 'I'll ring you' to a girl he's met or picked up somewhere, even though both of them know it's unlikely that he will.

Anyway Richard did, we met another couple of times over the next few weeks and it was only after the third time, again when I was just about to leave that he asked almost shyly, if I ever accepted invitations to the client's home, rather than meeting them in hotels.

By then I knew from our little chats that he had been divorced for several years, had teen-age children that he saw fairly frequently and that he had an apartment not far from the centre of the city, so although I felt confident he wouldn't suddenly turn nasty on me I still thought for a moment or two and said it depended on the client and why he wanted me to do that.

He obviously understood exactly what I meant - and I'll never forget his answer.

'I'd very much like to take some photographs of you - and show you where I'll be displaying the best one.'

During the time I've been an escort-girl I've had plenty of pictures taken of me, usually naked or semi-naked and usually the instant variety, that end up in the back of some guy's wallet. I don't mind, sooner or later the guy is going to brag to a friend, show them the picture and maybe I get another client out of it. It's a form of advertising as far as I'm concerned.

But part of Richard's answer intrigued me - 'and show you where I'll be displaying the best one.' Of course I asked him what he meant but he just smiled and said I would have to see for myself.

As I said, I felt sure I could trust him, so I agreed and we arranged a date and time. As he'd said that the main purpose was so he could take my picture I asked what sort of things he would like me to wear. 'Something slinky.' he said. 'Something that shows off your figure, I mean its shape.'

I don't mind admitting that over the next few days I thought about Richard's request quite a bit, toyed with various things I had that fitted his rather broad description. I had quite a few figure-hugging tops that I could wear with either pants or a tight skirt - or would he prefer a teddy, one piece underwear - then there was a tube dress I'd bought a few years earlier, it was certainly 'slinky'.

But nothing really seemed quite right and in the end I went out and bought something, a cat-suit or body-suit - actually I bought two, a black one and a vivid red one. When I'd tried them on in the shop I'd had to leave my underwear on of course, so as soon as I got home I had to try them on again - without. I must say, the difference was quite dramatic.

The fabric was stretch lycra and once the zip down the back was done up it fitted like a second skin, covering me from neck to ankles and wrists - and as I turned slowly around in front of the mirror I knew that even if he hadn't known it himself, this was exactly what Richard meant when he'd said 'slinky'.

I experimented with a few poses, stretching my arms high above my head, bending low, half turning myself so that the curve of my breasts showed as I looked back into the mirror - and found myself wondering which particular one would turn out to be Richard's favourite.

Although I was tempted to see what the cab driver's reaction would be, I finally decided not to put on either outfit before leaving, packing them and a few alternatives in a small bag and wearing just a fairly ordinary skirt and top for the short journey. I'll never forget the look of disappointment on Richard's face when he opened the door - but it quickly disappeared when I told him I had my things in the bag and he got positively excited when I added that I would leave it to him to choose from the several outfits I had brought with me.

He'd booked me for the whole evening, which I always prefer - I hate having to trot from one client to another - and had told me he would fix something for us to eat, so once we'd settled the financial business and he'd got a couple of drinks he asked if he could see what I'd brought with me, so we could decide what I was to wear later. Although he obviously liked both the teddy and tube dress when he saw the two cat-suits he literally grinned from ear to ear and said.

'Perfect! Absolutely perfect Brandy. I should have known you'd pick something as brilliant as this. I can't wait to see you wearing them, you'll look stunning - and the pictures will be fantastic, I just know they will.'

When I asked him which of the two he liked best he said. 'Neither. You'll have to let me take pictures of you in each of them!'

'So, do I get to see where you are going to put these pictures? That's what you said you'd do.'

He put the suits on one side and got up. 'Of course you do Brandy. Come along, though we mustn't get held up in there or dinner will spoil.'

Although his apartment was very modern the building it was in was quite old and there had obviously been a good deal of renovation done to it to make the individual apartments both functional and attractive. But wherever possible the developers had retained the former layout of rooms and of course they all had the original high ceilings. Richard's apartment was at one corner of the top floor and to my utter amazement still included a quite large, turret-room, which was reached by a narrow stair-case behind an ordinary looking door at the end of the hall-way.

'They loved having decorative bits and pieces on the outside of buildings in those days - but they still liked to make practical use of space when they could.' he explained as he led the way up the stairs. 'I've no idea what the room would have been used for originally - maybe a study or just a storage room - but when I was looking for a place, after my wife and I split up and I saw this I just had to have it - it's absolutely perfect for me.'

He opened the door, turned on a light and led me inside. It was like something out of a movie, an odd sort of movie - there were women or rather images of women, everywhere.

The walls were covered with pictures of them, some paintings, others photographs, some of them life-size, some much smaller, all very carefully arranged for maximum effect.

Statuettes, in marble, gilt, bronze - you name it. Some serving practical purposes as lamps or vases, others purely for their appearance. Some artistic, others in quite obviously erotic poses.

One wall, beside the door was taken up with a book-case which went from floor to ceiling. On the lower shelves were very large books, which he said contained photographs or photographs of paintings of women. Higher up were the ordinary sized books, many of which were quite serious books about sexuality but he admitted that there were also a large number which were full of pornography of various kinds.

Richard let me wander around, examining whatever aroused my interest, giving me time to adjust to what I was seeing. But after a while, when he saw that I was neither upset nor disturbed by his collection he took me gently by the arm and quietly said. 'I'd like the picture of you to be over here Brandy, see what you think.'

We moved to the other side of the room, skirting tables and pedestals until we stood in the bay formed by the curve of the window. Between the window frame and one of the life-size paintings was an area very nearly filled with about a dozen photographs of various women - all of whom were quite stunning and all of whom were in poses designed to simply display the shapes of their bodies. Some were in colour, some in stark black and white and no two poses were alike.

A quick glance showed that several of the poses I had tried out had already been done - but was thrilled to see that the one that I had thought actually suited my figure best and which accentuated my long legs, hadn't been.

Of course I didn't know whether Richard had rearranged the photographs just before my arrival or that he had in reality been waiting for someone special - but the central area was blank, as though it had been reserved for me all along.

'There Brandy, right there in the centre. And I think it will end up being the red outfit that will win pride of place. But I'll take pictures of you in both, just in case - if you don't mind of course.'

'Of course I don't mind. I'll be honoured Richard, honoured.' I answered almost absentmindedly as I turned and looked slowly around the room again. 'How long have you been collecting these things Richard?'

'Seriously? Since my wife and I split up, that's nearly ten years now. But I've had some of these things much longer than that, some of the books and quite a few of the pictures. That was one of the reasons for the start of the marriage break-up - my wife could never understand my interest, no fascination with sexuality and pictures of women. Thought it meant I was perverted.

Oh I admit I sometimes used them to masturbate - but then most men do that - it doesn't mean they don't still love their partner, still find them sexy. But she couldn't accept that. But that was really an excuse I think, there were other, deeper problems between us.

Anyway, once we'd decided to split and then, when I found this place, well it sort of inspired me. I set out to create something unique. It'll never be complete of course I'm still adding things, though it's getting harder to find things that are better than what I already have. When I look at something, even if a know I have space for it I ask myself whether I would be prepared to throw something else out, to make room for it.'

'What did you throw out to make room for me Richard?' I asked with a grin.

He smiled back at me. 'That would have been easy Brandy, you have such a beautiful body that it could have been any of that group of photographs.'

I thanked him for the compliment and he said he thought we ought to go down and eat before the meal spoiled, saying he'd be glad to bring me back again later, if I was genuinely interested in his collection.




Brandy Ch. 09-10



As we ate we talked - I should say he did - about his fascination and the collection and as the words poured out I realised that someone like me was perhaps the only kind of person with whom he could do that.

When I'd finished my coffee I said I thought it was time to get on with the photography and suggested I go and change while he set things up. He grinned and said. 'It's all ready, I didn't want to waste any of the time we have together. Come along, I'll show you.'

He took my hand, helped me up and I followed him back along the hall-way that led to the stairs. Part of the modernisation of the building had been the inclusion of a laundry and in Richard's flat this had been put in a room immediately beneath the collection room above. The tubs, washing machine and dryer were together along one wall, leaving the rest of the area open and Richard had set up his camera and lighting equipment facing a blank wall, which he was obviously going to use as a back-drop.

'You can get changed in the bed-room Brandy, while I get the lights ready, it's the first door on the opposite side of the hall. I think the black outfit first, so I can check everything out, then I'll take you in the red one. O.K.?'

Leaving him to set-up the equipment I took my bag and headed for the bed-room. It was a large room, nicely furnished and with a king-size bed in the centre of the far wall. The wardrobe was built-in and had full length mirrors on several of its doors, so once changed I had a chance to practice the three or four different poses I had thought of - remembering the ones I had seen upstairs I was quite sure that my favourite one would prove to be Richard's too.

Having made final touches to my make-up and hair I slipped into a pair of black, high-heeled shoes and rejoined Richard - and the expression on his face when he looked up and saw me confirmed just how effective the outfit was.

'You look simply fantastic Brandy!' he gasped, then grinned and added. 'It's a pity I can't keep the real thing upstairs, if I could I'd happily throw everything else out.'

'Now that's a compliment indeed Richard. But I think the novelty would soon wear off. Now, do you have any special poses you want me to try or will you leave it to me?'

'I'll leave it to you - if I think of anything I'll let you know. O.K.?'

We spent about half an hour in that session and although he didn't say or do anything, seeming to remain quite detached - even keeping his touches to only those strictly necessary when he came across and made some fine adjustment to a particular pose - I felt a tension growing in the air between us. I kept my favourite pose until last and waited until he'd finished putting a fresh roll of film in the camera before saying.

'One more Richard, I think you'll especially like this one.'

He looked up from what he was doing just as I turned away and dropped into the pose - and again the expression on his face gave him away and I knew I'd been right, he loved it.

Standing with my back three-quarters turned to the camera, my feet just slightly apart, one a little in front of the other, I then bent right down, holding on to one ankle for support, which tightened the fabric to full stretch, the seam biting into the cleft between the cheeks of my bottom. Turning my head to look back at him I saw Richard staring at me, his eyes roaming over my body.

I knew from my experiments in front of the mirror that by taking it from a lower angle my legs would look even longer and as well as that, he'd also get the curve made by breast. So I suggested he lower the tripod and take the shot from somewhere around knee-high, straightening up for a minute or two while he made those adjustments.

He took quite a few shots, changing the lighting and angles slightly each time, then asked me to change into the red outfit and having done that we repeated the sequence.

As we progressed he became steadily quieter and I could tell from the lines of tension showing on his face that he was getting very excited by the whole thing. So when he'd taken what I thought was going to be the last picture and asked nervously if I'd mind just one more set, without either outfit on, in the nude - I replied.

'Only if you take your gear off too Richard.'

He didn't say a word, just gave me a tight smile and nodded - but when he'd stripped I saw just how excited he had become, his cock was enormous, bone-hard and already seeping clear drops of fluid. He took the pictures - but took much less time about it than he had with the earlier ones and I could see that as the pressure inside him rose even higher he was having increasing difficulty concentrating on what he was doing, so wasn't surprised when he suddenly gave up, grabbed me by the hand and took me through into the bed-room.

I'd been half expecting that having spent so much time staring at my bottom he'd want anal sex but though he did want to have me from behind, as I bent over the end of the bed, it was my pussy he slid his cock into and it wasn't long before I could tell from the increasing speed of his thrusting and the sharp, explosive grunting noises he made that he was about to come - and when he did it was with such force that I was barely able to stop myself from being flattened on to the bed.

Richard called me a week or so later and asked if I'd like to see the results of our efforts, which of course I did, so a couple of evenings later I was once again in his collection room. We went straight over to the place he said he was going to display the photograph and when I saw it I had to admit it really did stand out from the others around it. He was obviously a better than average photographer and the particular shot he'd chosen of me in the red outfit looked really terrific. He took the frame down off the wall and turned it around, it was double-sided and on the reverse was a similar picture of me, in the black version.

'So if I ever get tired of one, I have another to look at for a while.' he said, adding with a little smile. 'Not that I really expect to ever get tired of either one.'

When I asked about the last shots he'd taken, when I was naked, he just smiled, took my hand and led me downstairs, into his bed-room. The third photo was on his bed-side table.

Naturally enough we then went to bed - but the sex that time was like the earlier times, controlled and considerate, with none of the frenzy of the last time - and that was in fact the last time I ever saw him. He never rang again.

I can only think that he actually preferred to have me beside his bed or hanging on his wall, he probably used them sometimes to masturbate - but whether he did or not, the pictures were enough for him.

TO BE CONTINUED

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Brandy Ch. 11-12



The following material is sexually explicit erotica.

If you are offended by hard-core pornography close this file.


Chapter 11

THE VOYEUR

Of course every man I've ever met was a 'looker', even those that didn't want something as extreme as Will did certainly enjoyed perving on or simply looking at women. Men are far more aroused by visual stimulation than are most women, voyeurism is almost exclusively male territory - you never hear of 'Peeping Janes', do you? And in some men, like Will, that becomes a full-blown obsession, sometimes to the virtual exclusion of every other aspect of their sexuality.

But even men with quite normal sexual appetites get a kick out of either overtly ogling a good-looking or sexy woman or at least sneaking a sideways glance. Just watch any group of people, in shopping malls, trains, walking down the street - if there's a woman around who is dressed in a particularly sexy way, watch where the men are looking. Young and old, with or without their wives or girl-friends, I guarantee, most men will be taking a look.

I met one man who I could only describe as a totally dedicated voyeur, a true professional. He had turned his looking into a science. Unlike Will, who had a very narrowly focussed need, seeing up beneath women's dresses, this man, Alex, wanted to see anything and everything - and would go to almost any lengths to do so, even to the extent of moving flats, if it meant a better opportunity to watch women.

At the time when I knew him he reckoned he'd found the perfect place to live and so long as nothing happened to the buildings around him, expected to be there for the foreseeable future. From one room in his flat in a high-rise block he could see down into the nurses’ residence of one of the city's larger hospitals, and from another a park and public swimming pool. He had bought high-powered binoculars and a telescope, using the binoculars to scan for good subjects, then the telescope for close-up viewing.

But although he always looked forward to going home and settling down to see what opportunities there were he also used every other opportunity too; while at work or travelling to and from it or just simply while walking around the shops. He travelled by train a lot and made a habit of never looking for a seat until he'd had a really good look around, changing carriages if necessary, looking for a likely target, a woman who was showing either a bit of leg or cleavage and he had developed quite a skill in using the windows as mirrors, to check parts of the carriage that might be blocked by other standing passengers.

Understandably, he hated the winter, when women had to wear more clothes but was really in his element in the warmer months.

When he'd spotted someone who took his fancy he'd manoeuvre himself into the best available vantage point, standing where he'd get the best view down her blouse or dress or slumping low in a seat from where he could see as much thigh as possible. He told me that some days the viewing was so good that by the time he got off the train he'd developed an enormous erection

He kept records of everything relevant to his more exciting sightings, jotting down notes at the time and adding those to the detailed records he kept in a book at home. He showed that to me one evening, it was really quite amazingly detailed, especially the section he kept about what he'd seen and learned about the nurses’ home.

He told me that from his experience it seemed that unlike people who lived in houses, very few people living in blocks of flats bothered about drawing curtains and that luckily for him, the nurses were just the same and they would have been horrified if they had known how much this stranger knew about them, how he recorded their comings and goings, what they did in the privacy of their room.

He had drawn-up a chart of the rooms he could see into and he'd given each of the nurses a name, some he rarely bothered to watch, they had nick-names, like 'skinny', 'fatty' and I remember that there was even one he'd called 'hairy-legs'. His favourites were given proper names and each one of those had a section devoted to her, the dates and times of especially good sightings, what he'd seen and what he'd done, whether or not he had masturbated I mean.

You might be wondering how a girl like me would come into contact with a man like that. It was for additional intensity I think - I only found out as much as I did about him and his unusual activities after quite a few weeks, when he had got to know me and realised he could trust me. I had a regular booking with him for some time and although at first I found it all a bit odd things were delayed a bit one week and while we waited we got talking, I also stayed on for a bit longer afterwards and from then on he opened up more and more as the weeks went by.

He never wanted full sex with me, hand and mouth was all he wanted - was all he could have I suppose, seeing as he was usually staring down his telescope the whole time.

I'd better explain - he'd found that one of his special nurses, he'd called her Lisa, had a boy-friend that she used to smuggle up to her room, regular as clock-work every Thursday evening. Who knows why, maybe because of the hours they worked that was the one time of the week they could get together, maybe they just liked the regularity.

Alex said that quite a few nurses managed to get guys into the place and if they kept their lights on while they fucked they gave him quite a show. Lisa not only liked to keep the lights on but, like the frequency, their meetings had a fairly well established routine too. Maybe she'd found that she got more out of him later if she reduced some of the pressure first - but for whatever reason, when her boy-friend arrived she'd almost immediately go down on him, give him a head-job, then the two of them would rest for a bit, have a drink, a bit of a cuddle, then they'd get into some heavier sex together. And as she'd nearly always do the oral sex bit while her boy-friend was standing, leaning back against the wall just inside the door, Alex always had a perfect, side-on view of at least that part of their activity.

As with most of my clients, he'd heard about me from a friend and after he'd told me the basics of what he wanted me to do - although he didn't mention the telescope - and I'd checked what I could about him, I agreed to go over to his place the next Thursday evening. Although I naturally found the situation decidedly odd and at that stage had no real idea of what was going on, as he seemed quite harmless and he'd obviously enjoyed the whole thing, when he asked for a repeat booking for the following week, there was no real reason why I shouldn't accept.

Naturally enough, the second time with a client is less strained than the first, especially for the client and Alex was no different, although he still didn't tell me the full extent of his voyeuristic activities until later, he gave me a look through the telescope and explained the scene he would be looking at in Lisa's room while I was busy getting him off. I don't know whether it was because he knew that I knew more about what was going on - and was obviously still happy to go along with what he wanted - or whether Lisa and her boy-friend were in particularly good form that evening, whatever it was, he got even more excited than he had the first time.

He was very well equipped and would have had no trouble finding a woman who'd be very grateful for what he'd got - that is if he'd been interested in sharing it with someone, which he wasn't - and the combination of his anticipation of what he was going to be looking at and what I was already doing for him quickly produced a very healthy erection, his cock quivering from the rising pressure bubbling inside it and his balls becoming noticeably swollen.

‘Mmm - looks good enough to eat!’ I said looking up and grinning at him as I ran my finger-tips lightly up and down the length of it.

He glanced down at me, a tensely excited expression on his face. ‘He's just arrived.’ he said before he glued his eye back to the telescope.

Of course I had no idea how quickly Lisa worked on her boy-friend, I could only take my cues from Alex's reactions - but on the basis that she didn't want to just get him off as quickly as possible, that she wanted to get something out of it too, I started off quite slowly, pushing the wrinkled folds of skin back down the shaft as I moistened my lips and slipped them over the bulging head then using my tongue on it as I rocked back and forth.

Most men react to a head-job in exactly the same way, trying to thrust their cocks as far down your throat as possible - which is pretty silly of them really. For one thing it tends to put the girl off her stroke, makes her less inclined to try to really please her guy - for another it means it's quite impossible for her to stimulate the most sensitive part, the rim around the base of the head and the frenulum, the little ridge of flesh beneath it. But Alex wasn't like that, although the muscles in his thighs and belly got hard and flexed as stronger waves of excitement flowed through him, whether it was because he was so intent on what he was seeing going on in Lisa's room or because he realised that way I could do a better job on him, he managed to hold himself pretty still.

So, as I didn't have to hold him back from trying to choke me, I was free to use both hands as well as my lips and tongue - and though I say it myself, under those circumstances I give one of the best head-jobs any man is ever likely to experience.

As I'd anticipated, Alex went off like a rocket and as I'd also expected, even he then couldn't help himself thrusting forward, burying his fountaining cock deep down the back of my throat.

After he'd cleaned himself up and offered me a drink he raved on about how fantastic I'd been, that I'd given him the best climax he'd ever experienced and I had to wait until he paused for breath to ask him to tell me what he'd actually seen through the telescope.

He gave me an almost blow by blow description, how Lisa had pulled her boy-friend's trousers and pants down around his knees, then knelt in front of him and, holding his already partially aroused cock up out of the way, she began by nibbling and sucking his balls. She did that for quite a long time and Alex was able to see the guy’s cock lengthening and hardening as she got him more and more excited. Then, instead of taking him straight into her mouth, as she curled her fingers around the shaft and began by using long, slow strokes, she used her tongue on the head, licking her way around the deep groove behind it and every now and then up over the glossy head itself.

Although his body was by that time thrusting quite powerfully, she still didn't attempt to take him in her mouth, Alex thought she might have tightened her grip a bit and that her tongue seemed to be working harder - but, whatever else she was doing, she continued with those long, slow strokes which were obviously driving her boy-friend quite wild. So, because his cock wasn't actually in her mouth at the time, Alex actually saw him come, saw the sudden spurts of semen splashing across Lisa's face as she pumped him even more vigorously and it was only after she'd got half a dozen loads out of him that she finally wrapped her lips around it and sucked out however much more there was still left inside.

‘And, as I saw her cheeks hollowing from sucking him as hard as she could, that's when I started to come.’ he said. ‘I'm sorry but I just couldn't help thrusting the way I did.’ He added apologetically. I told him that there was no need to apologise, that I was prepared for it and that as I'd never met a man who could stop himself doing so at that moment I'd have been very surprised if he hadn't.

As I said, it was the following week when I began to find out the full extent of his activities. When I arrived he said that there was no sign of Lisa, her room was still in darkness and though he scanned the rest of the building for alternatives, for once he couldn't find any of the nurses doing anything that got him turned on. As I didn't have another appointment to go to that evening, when he asked if he could pay me extra to stay on for a while, in the hope that Lisa was merely running late, I agreed and suggested that while we waited, he tell me more about the things he'd seen the nurses doing.

We sat down near the window, so he could keep one eye on the building and when he brought his books out and began to show me what was in them I was amazed at the volume and detail of what he'd recorded over the years. Apart from the section relating to the nurses there were pages devoted to what he'd seen from the room over-looking the park and swimming pool, not just the topless sun-bathers and the occasional masturbator but even the couples he'd caught sight of that were fucking in broad day-light.

Other sections covered his less spectacular but still to him, exciting sightings, on his way to and from work, around the streets, everywhere and anywhere. Then there were pages devoted to what he'd seen while living at earlier addresses, they were fewer and less dramatic but nonetheless detailed and descriptive. I found that he had books going right back to when he was a very young teen-ager, they didn't have the degree of orderliness that the later records had of course but I could see that whatever it was that had caused his strange need pre-dated the onset of puberty.

The books were well worn and he told me that when all else failed, when, like that evening, there was nothing to see and he had no recent sighting to trigger his arousal, he'd look back through his books, use some part of one of them to remind him of an earlier experience - then masturbate himself to sleep. When I asked him how often before me he'd used an escort girl I wasn't really surprised when he answered - ‘Never!’ - and I was naturally curious to know what had made him ring me.

He said he really didn't know why he had, some months before he'd been in a pub with some friends and as happens when men get together over a few drinks, the conversation had sooner or later got around to the subject of sex and one of them had gone on and on about the fantastic sex he'd had with this girl. Only admitting under a bit of pressure that she was an escort, that he'd paid for it, then, having got that off his chest, proudly passing my phone number around to all his friends.

As I've said before, I don't need to advertise, word of mouth is by far the best - and a lot cheaper too.

Anyway, even though at that time he had no intention of using it, for some reason Alex kept the number and it was only after watching Lisa and her boy-friend for several weeks and realising that they had a set schedule and fixed routine that it occurred to him that it would be even better if he could actually feel the same things as the boy-friend was experiencing.

A little later he suddenly noticed that Lisa's light had come on and when he peered through the telescope he said that he thought from the way she was hurriedly changing and tidying the room that her boy-friend must soon be arriving too. Hearing that I took up my position at his feet, pulled down his trousers and pants and began to gently caress his cock and balls. But although there was some response it wasn't until about ten minutes later, when he excitedly said - ‘He's arrived!’ - that he started to get a proper erection - and it was only then that I realised and understood just how deeply he depended on visual stimulation to really get him going.

As I said, I continued meeting him every Thursday evening for quite some time and after that one, late get-together, Lisa and her boy-friend went back to their previous schedule and to my continuing amazement but Alex's great satisfaction, their routine hardly ever varied either. However, after a few months of that there was another Thursday when we at first thought Lisa had been held up again - but she never appeared and although I made some alternative suggestions, Alex didn't want anything from me, saying he'd ring me if it looked as though things would be back to normal by the following week. He never did, I never heard from him again, I can only suppose that Lisa changed jobs, or boy-friends, or both - no doubt to Alex's sorrow and, at least until he found some equally exciting activity to watch, temporary frustration.



Chapter 12

MARIO

Sex and food often go together - after all they are both basic instincts, feeding and reproducing I mean - and there are plenty of examples of the association of the two, from certain foods being considered to have aphrodisiac qualities, to the well known saying that 'the way to a man's heart is through his stomach'. But food is usually seen as a preamble to love-making, not an intrinsic part of it, as it was for Mario.

When he first rang I didn't know for certain that he was Italian, both he and his name sounded Italian - but even if later on he hadn't told me that he was - my first-hand experience of his love of Spaghetti and Pasta would have certainly confirmed it!

But the funny thing is, I've never actually seen him eat it off a plate - only off of me!

Apparently he got my number from a friend of his who had previously been out with me. I checked my records of course, to verify what he told me - a girl in my business has to be very, very careful, if she wants to both stay in business and healthy too. The contact checked out so I rang Mario back and we made an appointment. He told me was going to book into one of the city hotels - that's usually what happens, that way they can tell their wives that they are at a conference or something, that dinner is late and they will be drinking, so it's more sensible to book themselves into a room for the night. I was pleased to hear him give the name of one of the better hotels, rather than some of the places some guys try to save money by using, which are little better than glorified doss-houses.

I was to join him at seven o'clock - in time for dinner!

There's another bit of insight into men's 'human nature'. A man loves his wife and kids - most of them admit that quite openly - but also has 'something on the side', usually because there's some particular aspect of their sexual needs that is missing in their marriage. I've often asked those of them that want something from me that's nothing too unusual, why they don't ask their wives to do what they want. They either laugh or cringe at the prospect, sometimes even taking such a suggestion as an insult to their wife!

Anyway - Mario.

He rang me back with the room number, so that I could go straight up to him, rather than risk any hassle with the Reception people - you can get that at some places. That's funny in itself. The managers are screwing whatever they can get their hands on, or I should say, dick into. On top of that, a lot of their business comes from guys like Mario, shacking up with a girl for a few hours - but they still try to protect the 'reputation' of their hotel by harassing the girls who are coming in to take care of their customers.

Up I went, he was quite nice, a bit more 'Mediterranean' than I like - but O.K. He made nice compliments about my dress and looks, European men are really good at that, offered me a drink - and then I did the financial business.

I always get that out of the way first thing. Three reasons. 

One, it clears the air, I get to know exactly what the man wants, decide whether or not I'll go along with it and how much I reckon I can charge him for it - that's variable, depends on the guy and how much you think he wants what he wants and what he can afford to pay

Two, most men figure they can last longer than they actually do. If he reckons three hours, he'll be finished or asleep in two, but in the meantime I've got my fee for three. 




Brandy Ch. 11-12



Three, this doesn't apply often - but it does sometimes. I might actually enjoy it! It happens you know, I get sexy too and some guys get through to me. I might just be tempted to give a 'freebie' if I've had a good time myself - that's just a bad way to run a business.

So, what did Mario want? All he had said on the phone was that he wanted me to join him for dinner in his room. When I got down to specifics he was tongue tied at first and it took a bit of pushing to get it out of him. To cut a long story short - he wanted to watch me eat, I could order anything I liked from the menu - then, he wanted me to strip and let him eat his dinner - off my body! He assured me that there was no way he would let me get burnt, that his dishes would cool down sufficiently while I was having my meal.

Weird - but not dangerous - and I admit that I was intrigued and maybe, just a bit excited by the idea. So I agreed.

Mario got as excited as a kid on Christmas Eve. I ordered Lobster and champagne and he rattled off a series of Italian sounding dishes to room service for himself

I did my usual trick of disappearing into the bath-room when the trolley was delivered - no point in becoming too well known to the staff - and when I came out again he had everything set up.

I must say he had come prepared - he'd spread a big sheet of plastic over the bed and an ordinary sheet over that, for me to lie on. My dinner was set up beautifully, flowers, candles, the full treatment and he served me like a professional waiter, hovering around, never taking his eyes off me. 'A little more of this? Another glass of wine? Would you like your desert now?' It was odd - but very nice.

He didn't seem to be in any hurry and though I didn't know exactly what was going on in his head, I could tell he was not only enjoying the situation but also and more importantly, he was beginning to get sexually excited. The look in his eyes became very intense, his face a little flushed and a few, small drops of perspiration appeared on his forehead. Not to mention the bulge I could see growing in his pants!

I must say I got a bit turned on myself, looking across at the bed, wondering just what it would feel like to lie there covered in food, then having him eat it off of me.

When he was sure I had finished, he tidied up the dishes and then stood by the trolley that still had his meal on it - just standing there, patiently waiting for me so after a last sip of the champagne I got up, moved across to beside the bed - and began to undress.

There's an art in undressing for a man. Take your time, slow and deliberate. 

I always take my blouse or top off first, taking my time to fold it neatly - giving the man plenty of time to enjoy what he can see of my breasts.

Then, usually, shoes and stockings - I never wear pantyhose - unpeeling them slowly and very carefully - so he gets to see plenty of thigh. 

The skirt next. Again, taking my time to fold it - making sure I turn and move around a bit as I do that, giving him the chance to see my body from various angles.

If I have been with a man a few times I get to know what he likes - then, if I know he likes me to keep my stockings on, I do - if I know he likes to see my breasts swinging free, I take my bra off at the same time as my blouse. Those kind of things are important and a man gets excited just from the fact that you have remembered and do what he particularly likes.

But it was my first time with Mario and even though I was sure he enjoyed watching me strip I was certain that he was in fact inwardly working himself up even more at the thought of the main event that was to follow - and that whatever happened before that was only a side show.

So, when I was down to just panties - I looked across at him, asked him if he was ready for his dinner and, when he silently nodded - stripped them off too and climbed up on to the bed. I looked up at him and asked him to take over, to position me in whatever way he wanted and - so long as he was sure that the food wasn't hot, to do whatever he wanted to with that too.

Even though I could see just how wound up he had got himself he obviously liked what he saw and stood there for a few seconds, looking down at me, then, unable to wait any longer, he wheeled the trolley up alongside the bed and started.

He had me lie down on my back, me legs spread wide and hanging over the end of the bed, then before he did anything else he put a couple of pillows under my head, whether they were so that I could see what was going on or just to stop the sauces running down over my face I didn't know - but I was grateful for them later on. He took his time about everything he did and it was only when he was completely satisfied with the position I was in that he began to serve the food on to me.

He took even more care with the placement of the various dishes, it was amazing, I had expected him to just sort of pour them out on to me - but no, each was arranged as though he was actually serving it to guests for dinner.

First some shell-shaped pasta in a veal and tomato sauce were spooned on to my breasts. Their curves made it hard for him to get the pasta to stay put and a lot of the warm sauce ran straight off and trickled down their sides and as my breasts, especially the nipples are very sensitive I found that as Mario nudged the pasta together around them, they actually started to swell and harden.

He saw the reaction and looked up with a little smile, as though he was glad to see I was starting to enjoy it too.

When he'd managed to get two, small piles of pasta to cap my breasts he began to serve a sort of lasagne on to my stomach. Carefully placing a series of small portions in a circle around my navel then, when he was satisfied with their position, liberally ladled the thick sauce over them, at the same time of course, filling my navel and the surrounding, inward curve of my body too.

He actually stood back and admired his handiwork - and, apparently happy with the effect, he then started on what turned out to be his 'piece de resistance'. Spaghetti a la Pussy!

Having learned the problem caused by the combination of slippery pasta, sauce and my body's curves, he drained off as much of the spaghetti sauce as he could before he started to serve the pasta on to me. Then, using my thick, curly pubic hair as a kind of anchoring point, he began to build a pile of the spaghetti. Strands of it fell down between my thighs, tickling my pussy-lips, which by then had already started to get quite tingly and puffy and then, as he had with the other dishes, once he had sufficient spaghetti arranged just the way he wanted it, he spooned the meat sauce over it and it started to trickle warmly down between my thighs and seeped over and between my pussy-lips.

While he had been arranging the food he was totally absorbed in what he was doing - apart from the look he had given me earlier, when he saw my nipples beginning to stiffen - he hadn't said a word or even looked up at me. But, as he finished and stepped back a few paces, to see the overall effect, he smiled at me - but I could see that beneath the smile there was an expression of barely controlled excitement - his eyes were burning with a fierce intensity and I could see that his body was trembling.

Without saying a word to me, he stripped - quickly and untidily - simply tearing his clothes off and dropping them on the floor around him. He was starting to run to a bit of fat but he was in better shape than many men of his age I have seen. His cock was already fully erect - it was short but thick and was surrounded by masses of dark black hair.

Then he began to eat - both his dinner and me, it was as though the two were inextricably linked in his mind. He started with the shell pasta on my breasts, that was by then beginning to feel cold on my skin and I felt sure it couldn't have been very appetising. As it cooled it had become sticky, clinging more tightly to me keeping my nipples sensitive and erect as it contracted around them. 

Mario didn't seem at all worried about the temperature of the pasta and he didn't use either a spoon or fork, just his lips and mouth. Lapping up the juice that had run down the sides of my breasts, taking mouthfuls of the pasta from the mound on top of them. And of course, mouthfuls of me too!

He gently sucked my nipples completely clean, arousing them and other parts of me as he lapped up every last drop of sauce.

Once he had finished that, he didn't, as I had half expected him to, even pause to caress or play with my breasts but moved straight on to the next course. He used a fork for the lasagne on my stomach but when he had eaten that he put it aside and used his mouth and tongue to get at the sauce.

All this time the meat sauce from the spaghetti dish had continued to slowly ooze its way down between my thighs, its irregular seeping and dripping keeping my pussy in a state of tingling sensitivity of anticipation.

But before he started to eat again he got up, stepped back from the bed and had another good, long look at me lying there and from the state his cock was in it was very obvious what the effect of his unusual tastes were having on him. It was now fully erect, its head taut, plum-red, sticky and shiny with the pre-cum that coated it - his balls very tightly swollen.

He literally licked his lips before he started in on me again. Kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed so that by stretching forward, his mouth could reach right up between my legs - then after his hands had gently pushed my thighs further apart - he began to eat.

It was marvellous!

The feel of the strands of trailing spaghetti slipping down as he sucked and chewed others from me. His tongue lapping up the sauce from my thighs, my hair and from between my pussy-lips. I can tell you, it didn't take too much of that to get my own juices really flowing, to mix with the meat sauce he was lapping up. As he did that his tongue continued to excite and stimulate my clit - and soon I felt my hips lifting, offering myself up to his busy mouth.

He was hungry for it! Whether it was the food, the way it was served, me beneath it or the total combination of all those things - he was certainly hungry for it!

Up until then he hadn't said a word or even made a sound but as he ate - the spaghetti and me - his grunts of satisfaction said more than any words could ever have done.

Then, to my surprise I felt a climax building inside me and as it did and I reacted to it by thrusting myself harder down against his chewing mouth, I felt him moving more strongly too, more jerkily. I looked down the length of myself through eyes now half glazed with pleasure and although I could only see the top of his head and shoulders - I couldn't mistake what he was doing. 

He was masturbating himself!

Of course he may have been doing that all the time he had been down there, on the floor between my legs. Maybe I had been too busy enjoying my own reactions to his feasting off me to notice, only becoming aware of it as his actions had become faster, more urgent. But whatever had been going on for him - and for however long, by that time he was so worked up that it took him only another minute or so to reach his climax.

I had mine first - as I heaved myself up against his mouth and he avidly sucked the last drops of sauce from me, I went over the top, his lips sucking out the flowing juices that were mixed in with the spaghetti sauce.

As I started to come down from the brief high I could feel the even stronger vibrations of his more frenzied pumping and then heard him making a deep, rising growl. Lifting my head higher to better see what was happening, I saw his entire body lock rigidly and though I still couldn't actually see his cock I did see the spurts of cum that shot up from it and landed amongst the sauce that had dripped from my pussy on to the sheet beneath me.

We stayed like that for several minutes, silent other than for the sound of our panting breath, then I got up and looked at myself in the mirror - although I was still sticky, I was remarkably clean, obviously, I thought to myself, he had been brought up to not leave any food on his plate!

I went to the bath-room for a shower and by the time I came out again he had bundled up his sheets and from the look of the room you would have had no idea what had happened there a mere twenty minutes earlier.

We met several more times, he tried other dishes but 'spaghetti con pussy', was undoubtedly his favourite!

As he got to know me he talked a bit about himself. He was Italian, from a very poor village in the South, where towards the end of the last war and for some time after that, there was hardly any food to be had anywhere around them. His Mother died while giving birth to twins, a boy and a girl and a few weeks later the babies died too - in fact his whole family came very close to starving. At that time he was just reaching early puberty, becoming obsessed with girls and sex - but of course in that part of the world sex without marriage was a sin. He and his older brothers finally emigrated so that they could send money back for the rest of the family and in time Mario sent home for one of the village girls to come out and marry him.

My guess was that because of his childhood experiences, sex and food somehow got linked together. But, how could a good Catholic ask his unsullied wife to do for him what he needed to satisfy those strange, deep-seated obsessions.

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