This “Fantasy” was a result of Mrs. Mallory’s recent post in the Photo Orgy section of the website…
If you haven’t signed up to the group, you will certainly get the picture, although I much prefer to see her version rendered in the flesh (or at least pixels!)…well…for now!!!

My first thought when I saw you posed like that was…”what if someone you had just met were taking this picture…someone for whom you finding yourself in this position would be totally out of character and inappropriate…but you did it voluntarily and not under the influence of alcohol or some drug?”

What would it say about you? What would it say about the person that you did it for? Is something like that even possible?

Read on to find out?

What if it was me who took this picture? What if we had just had our first “date”? Now imagine that you felt zero physical attraction to me (I didn’t say repulsed, I am a pretty handsome, fit, sharp looking guy not Quasimodo, but just no reaction…not your type…

Now imagine that we met through one of your very best and longest term clients. A guy who throws your Company millions of dollars a year in commissions that by all rights could go anywhere else, but he happens to like you more than all the smug, ugly stupid men who cover him from the other firms.

You only accepted my offer to go out on a date with me because I am your clients very best friend…not that you are going to sleep with me or anything…just one date…dinner…as a semi-professional courtesy since he had gone to such great lengths to make it clear how interesting and attractive I found you to be…and how much he would consider it a very huge personal favor to him if I at least met you for a social dinner .

He assured you that I am harmless…a consummate gentleman…pretty savvy with women despite that not seeming to be obvious to you from your obvious disinterest. He told you that I “never gets my heart out ahead of my head”…and that I, “never misread clues or get some off-the-mark fatal attraction obsession with anyone…no matter how “hot” or “perfect” I think they are and how desperately I wanted to be with them.”

You had already made it clear to your client that you were doing this as a personal favor to him…and that this had nothing whatsoever to do with your business relationship and that if you ever heard a peep from him otherwise, that you would resign from his account and never speak to him again.

You are the real deal at your job…you have worked hard and earned your position…you deserve the respect others give you and have more than proven that you are not going to cut corners to earn business or get ahead. And you definitely DONT’T sleep with your clients no matter how hot you think they are…and without a doubt, THIS client has got to be the hottest one of them all!

Hands down the hottest man you have ever met!

A guy who can make you wet with one fucking word when he calls you on the phone, a guy that gets you so worked up when you take him to see a Yankees game in the Company’s box seats – rubbing your elbows and knees together, speaking with your faces so close, shifting back and forth on those painfully uncomfortable box seats usually late in the season when it gets so cold that the entire stadium is all but huddling together to stop the shaking from the effects of the freezing cold damp late night air. You literally bring an extra pair of panties because you are so afraid that you might soak through your jeans and have a big wet spot in your lap (or worse on your seat that can only be seen from behind and that you aren’t even aware of!) it gets so bad (and you would throw away the other pair because there is no way he wouldn’t grab them and stuff them right under his nose if he caught a glimpse of them in your purse!!!)

And yet here you are…

Somehow…unexpectedly…inexplicably…you are standing right here in front of me…

Completely naked…

Bent over from the waist…

Long black satin opera gloves, the only “accessory” on your entire body…

How did you get here? How can you get out of this? Ugh! The humiliation and embarrassment of being in this position…bending over like that…showing yourself to me (or about to).

You are reaching back up between your legs and around behind your back your hands clasped…covering your most intimate and private parts from my blazingly hot vision view with those shiny gloved fingers…

There really is no explanation other than you really must be the biggest fucking slut in the world…or at least that is what anyone and everyone will have to think when they find out about this.

And all you can think about is the fact that there is no fucking way, that I won’t tell your client!

I am his best friend…and not only is your client the hottest guy you have ever met, he is also one of the most lecherous pigs imaginable. A guy who sees more pussy than vet!You can’t actually imagine standing naked bent over in front of your client (even in your wildest most unfiltered sexual dreams), and yet here you are in front of me.

You have turned down more advances and sexual propositions from him over the years than you can even count…all of them totally inappropriate, most of them downright indecent and a few of them outright illegal in some states…and then I go and do this with his best friend!?!

You know that he and I do EVERYTHING together…diners, drinks, dates, games, vacations, parties…there is just no possible way that he and I don’t talk about anything and everything…and this is so…CRAZY!!!

Getting a woman to strip down for him with seemingly not an ounce of resistance or effort, even when I haven’t offered ANYTHING of myself in return.

“This must be the fucking crowning sexual glory for me” you think to yourself as you keep your fingers closed tightly across your crotch and up the crack of your ass…”pulling some sneaky hypnosis bullshit on unsuspecting or vulnerable women!”.

“This must be an All-Time High for me, scoring such an attractive, highly educated, stylish, successful, professional woman who eats other men’s lunch in every possible way all day long…finding a way to get her naked faster and more shamelessly than some barely conscious Florida State sorority girl in a “Girls Gone Wild” video!?!?!”…”hell…it almost certainly explains why I had been so insistent with your client…why your client and been so insistent with YOU!?!”

I must have figured something out about you and thought I could use it…well…it sure as hell seems like you have. “Fucking bastard!” you mumble to yourself as you stand there for what feels like an eternity while I have been positioning the chair behind you and turning up the lights and tilting the lamp shades to create the greatest amount of illumination possible every lumen aimed directly at my gloved hands…

In another minute or two you are certain that I am going to ask you to remove those hands…tell you to do something else that will undoubtedly shock and offend you. Something else that will make you want to tell me to “fuck off!”

And then a second later you will find yourself doing it anyway…doing whatever it is that I have asked you no hesitation, no resistance, no shame…

Then you are imagining that I will tell you the most incongruous comment… Something like “how pretty I think your pussy looks” or “how incredibly beautiful my pussy is when it is so swollen and flush and red and moist with my essence…”, or some other flowery bullshit comment like that!

Then I will probably follow those line with something about how “pleased I am by your responses”, and how “proud I am for you doing what I have asked of you so well…”

You will say something really crude but in such a seemingly sincere way, followed by a compliment or approval, before asking you to do something else more degrading and humiliating than what you have already done.

When I say that I want to smell your sex, you feel sure that you will bend over farther, push your hips out and back and all but place your pussy on my nose…

When I ask if I can lick your asshole…you already know that you will probably be reaching back without uttering a word and spreading your checks to give me better access and signal your “approval”…(more like acquiescence!)

Oh, Shit! In another minute it will also become abundantly clear that I made absolutely no preparations for our date…zero…nada…nothing! It will be all to clear that =I had no expectations whatsoever for this date…my grooming alone will make that self-evident!

So now I have to explain to my client why I am so sharp and precise with how I dress (even down to the fancy bras and slips he is always peeking down my shirt and commenting on – even giving me recommendations as to other designers or cuts or newer models I should try on that would fit my body better) but couldn’t even shave for a date with his best friend… FUCK!!!

I will regret not being prepared every bit as much as I am sure that I will regret every single minute of this evening…

I am (or will be shortly) ruined, professionally, personally, and in every other way imaginable.

I can not imagine ever even looking at my client again…not after this…

It was hard enough to managing my constant desires to fuck his brains out when he still hadn’t ever had a chance to touch or see or feel one millimeter of my body…and now he most assuredly will know every last intimate detail…whether I wax or shave…how sensitive are my nipples…do I give a good head…whether I take it up the ass…hell, everything at this rate!

But that isn’t all that you are worried about is it?

You know all too well, that before long you won’t be able to control yourself any longer…don’t you?

If I make you keep this up…you know that eventually you won’t be able to stop your own cravings and desires from emerging.

It hasn’t happened often…once or twice in your entire life and NEVER so soberly or brightly lit or expertly created.

A random hook-up with some smooth talking college boy on spring break, drunk as a skunk, in a pitch black room filled with a dozen of his passed out friends…grunting and screaming and yelling at the top of your lungs…cuming over and over and over again…unable to stop it…making him fuck you harder…no real or specific recollection of what the hell happened other than the bites and bruises and incredible soreness from fucking like wild animals for almost four hours straight.

Back then you were just some stupid drunk anonymous freshman…no one knew who you were and no one would ever find out…back then nobody could see how badly you were shaking and convulsing and what your face must have looked like when yet another orgasm reduced you to a mumbling little slut who was frothing at the mouth and literally pissing yourself…all over the bed as his hands worked over your cunt for what seemed like the thousandth still pleasurable time…

If that happens again, you are done for sure…maybe you really are that terrible awful slut you were so afraid of…that you worked so hard to get away from…that you long ago got out of your system…

Oh please,…please…don’t make that happen again…Oh, God!…please, don’t let me get to that point…don’t let me loose control like that again…please, help me control it…don’t make this happen…not like this…not with him…not with the best friend of THIS clients…

I didn’t make you do anything…you have simply been answering my questions or responding exactly as I would have hoped…

When I said that I would like to see your apartment, you offered to let me drive you there.

When I asked to be shown around, you gave me the most detailed description of every room in the house.

When I asked to see your closet, you blushed and showed me which door it was behind.

When I asked if I could look through your drawers, you stood there frozen and scared, but nodded as I started to slowly and carefully touch and feel your slips and bras and panties and nightgowns…

When I came across your box of sex toys, again you were beet red and scared but when I asked if I could look inside you let out a long labored exhale…

And then, when I came across the opera gloves and asked you to strip naked and put them on, you did exactly as I asked – including folding your clothes neatly in a pile at the foot of your bed…

And now you are standing here…naked…bent over…and all of the lights are shining brightly on your body. I am sitting here less than a foot from you, your hips and ass at eye level…and you are holding your position…waiting for me to ask my next question.

But you already know the question…don’t you…

Please remove your hands and show me your pussy…

Thats it…

Good girl…

Beautiful…

-James