***WARNING***
The following story is not for the faint of heart and is NOT intended for those under the age of 18! Consider yourself forewarned!
Director’s Cut
Every Thursday afternoon, the
clinic where I work holds their weekly training. No appointments for patients are scheduled at
this time, thereby allowing the nurses and other staff to engage in continuing
education classes, workshops and seminars that deal with advances in medicine
or learning about new equipment that enable us to function more competently in
our jobs. When Training Day falls on the
fifth Thursday of a month, my clinic has made it a practice to forgo
training. And after a potluck lunch, we
are free to enjoy the afternoon as we please.
James, my husband as well as a
doctor at the clinic, and I have made it a practice to utilize these afternoons
for a rendezvous, before we pick up the twins at six from the daycare. Last Thursday, he finished seeing patients
early and skipped out on the potluck to run some errands before our afternoon
together. I left the potluck around one
and arrived home to find a gift wrapped box waiting for me in the bedroom.
When I opened the box, I found
black lingerie: a satin corset-type bustier with garters that laced up in the
front, sheer thigh-hi stockings, a g-string thong and a pair of stilettos –the
kind with the metallic heel, in my size. The note that accompanied my gift
read: Action is the plan for the
afternoon. Auditions will be held in the
media room. Dress appropriately.
After donning my threads, I
descended the two flights of stairs to the basement and proceeded to James’
media room. As I approached the door, I
could smell the incense burning –Egyptian Musk, and I could hear James favorite
CD playing –Slow Jams 1970-1979. The door was closed and from it hung a very
professional looking sign: Closed
Set. Auditions being held for Porn Star
Pictures’, James’ Giant Peach. When
I entered the room, I found James sitting in a director’s chair with our last
name embroidered in white on the black fabric backrest. The media room was converted into a mini film
studio, complete with lights, camera and director’s sofa –a chaise lounge, that
was the focus of the room.
“Am I late for my audition?” I inquired, looking at all the work he had
put into the room –champagne cooling in a bucket of ice on the bar, a basket of
fresh fruit near the lounge chair,
“No, baby –” He rose from his chair, wearing a pair of
black silk boxers and the matching full length robe, and greeted me at the door
with a kiss and a glass of Chablis. “As a matter of fact, you are right on time
for your audition –why don’t you have a seat on the chaise and we can get started.” I follow his directions, as he set the
lighting and resumed his seat in the chair behind the camera.
“I’ve never done anything like this
before.” I spoke, somewhat apprehensive about
what he had in store.
“That’s all right darling –I talk
you through everything we’re gonna do.”
He reassured as he turned on the camera.
“The first thing I want you to do is relax –” I sat back on the chair and raised my legs,
extending them the full length of the seat, so that the heels of my shoes hung
off of the edge. “Nice. The next thing I want you to do is to let
down your hair –you’re very beautiful –you should consider wearing your hair
down more often.” He coached, and I
complied, running my fingers through the length of hair.
“Before we begin the audition, I
would just like to interview you –get a feel for you so to speak –find out your
inhibitions or lack thereof.” I felt myself blush, to see my husband in
such a role, but played along. “Now, you said that you have never done anything
like this before –tell me, have you ever taken your clothes off in a public
setting? Strip maybe?”
I hesitated momentarily then
answered truthfully. “Once –when I was
in college.”
“Go on –” I could discern intrigue
in his voice so I continued.
“On a spring break trip my senior
year –some friends of mine and I spent the week at Daytona Beach
“Does drinking lower your inhibitions?”
I smiled coyly, took a swig of my
drink and answered, “Yes.” I finished
the drink and lowered glass to the small table he had positioned adjacent to
the chaise. James rose from his chair
and walked to the bar. After lifting out
the bottle of champagne from the bucket of ice, he turned around and approached
me. I handed him the empty glass and
watched as he refilled it. I took a sip
from the full glass then placed it back on the table. James returned to his seat and the interview
continued.
“Anything else happen after
that?” James coaxed.
“Yes –the guys in the club chanted
for me to flash them –and I did.”
“I bet you have nice tits.” James voice dropped an octave and sounded the
way it had when he approached me that same night in the club and introduced
himself. “It’s a little warm in here –why don’t you unlace your outfit and show
me just how beautiful those breasts are.”
He sat back from the camera to get a better look at me as I untied the
bow and slowly pulled out the satin ribbon that had held the corset
together. The shoulder straps slacked,
falling over the crest of my arms, and I opened the front of the garment like a
pair of double doors welcoming him in for the show.
“Hmmm, they’re beautiful!” I could see him lick his lips before he moved
back behind the camera. “Why don’t you
rub them –” I held them each in a hand and moved them outward then back in
until they were pressed up against one another. “And play with the nipples.” He
added. Using my index fingers, I spread them taut, and then let them go to
resume their natural shape.
“There’s a cooler on the far side
of the chaise –” I looked over to see the small Coleman, which had completely escaped
my view earlier. “Inside, you’ll find a
can of whipped cream –along with some other things –why don’t you take out the
can, and have a little fun with the cream.”
Reaching over to the cooler, I
opened it and saw the can of Redi Whip nestled among a pile of ice cubes. Carefully
pulling out the dessert topping, I popped the cap and removed the safety seal
and shook the can. I decided to tease James
a little, before doing what I knew he wanted to see. I sprayed the whipped cream onto the tip of
my finger and using just the tip of my tongue, licked it off. I then sprayed out more, but instead of covering
just the tip, I spread the cream the length of my finger before inserting it
entirely in my mouth. I pulled it out
slowly, without fully removing it, and plunged it into my mouth again.
Taking the wet finger, I traced a path to my...
Follow the link to What's Her Fantasy? to find out what happens next!
Baci a tutti!
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