Mental Play

Having taken up multiple modelling jobs before, Desiree had met her fair share of perverts who tried to get their hands on her but to no avail. Being a clubber and a fashionable lady, countless guys had been into her but she knew better than to let them get their ways and feel used.

I known her through this very blog and learnt that she was a model, and am still one, but had changed her standards about photoshoot. Coming up with a plan (not to bed her) was tough especially when I have to manage someone who had much more experience than I do in that field (of modelling). While she is good at what she has been doing, I am good at thinking and coming up with ideas, useful or not, I shall not say.

Me (Whatsapp): ‘I have came up with a photoshoot idea, that doesn’t need you to get yourself in the mood, or get into any specific poses. Want to try?’
Desiree (Whatsapp): ‘What is it exactly? Sounds interesting. Can tell me more?’
Me (Whatsapp): ‘I can’t tell you cause it cannot be expressed in word. It will be a sensory experience of a lifetime. I guarantee you.’
Desiree (Whatsapp): ‘And if it’s not?’
Me (Whatsapp): ‘Then I’ll try again next time lo.’
Desiree (Whatsapp): ‘What?! Full of nonsense you know. K lah. Let’s fix a time and place.’

Long story short, we met up at a not-too-shabby hotel for the first time. And as explained, she wore what she felt most comfortable in, an off-shoulder shirt with a pair of shorts. Across her shoulder was a beach bag that looked empty, or perhaps it had something big in it.

We went up to the room with little words exchanged to keep her mind clear and she laid on the bed. For me, I brought a chair next to her and sat down with my iPad and the camera resting next to her. Bedsheets were messed up intentionally and she was just enjoying the comfortable bed only hotels could provide.

For the shoot, I had prepared a story. It was written with lots of research in the hypno-therapy field and what took most time was to come up with a storyline that would help her find resemblance in the shortest time possible. Placing the iPad on my raised legs, I took the camera in my hands and asked her to move those beddings that would give her the most space to move.

And then, I threw her a pair of blindfold, designed not to crush onto the user’s eyes, maintaining darkness even if she opened her eyes. Desiree had came to this shoot with an open mind, and that was all that I needed.

After everything were in place, I began reading, in a less-than-lively tone, a little deeper in pitch, and at a pace our minds would not grow tired of hearing. Spending a lot of time on this story somehow implanted most of the plot in my mind, giving me some freedom to recite while away from my iPad. I was anxious to find out what were the effects of the ‘Story of the Century’. There was just two persons featured, her, and the male lead.

Slowly, her hands went to the hems of her shirt, pulling them over her head and dropping them outside the bed. She squeezed her 34C boobs together before unclipping the front hooks, letting her breasts fall to the sides naturally. After her top, she tugged her shorts along with her panties down her legs, and kicked it out of reach towards the end of the bed.

No matter what her mind was interpreting, it was working. As the story moved to the bondage part, her legs parted towards the edges of the bed with her hands reaching upwards, twisting and moving as though they were bounded by an invisible rope.

From the time she started stripping, my camera was already firing and it was all good so far. Her knees bent as though someone had opened them wider, and her hips raised and fell, while giving off a moan. Yes, the ‘dick’ was inside her. As the male lead rammed harder, Desiree’s breathing went faster, along with her chest moving rapidly. Armed with a camera between her legs, she was getting wetter without any physical stimulation at all.

Moreover, her pussy was, was moving on its own. Gapping and twitching like her mind was telling she was having sex with someone. After the missionary rape, one of her hands moved to her waist, and forming a O-shape with her thumb and index finger, she brought the ‘dick’ to her mouth, where her tongue appeared to perform for the imaginary rod.

Twisting her fingers around the shaft, the scene was shorter than the sex and she followed the plot, to turn over and get on her fours. The lead then slowly forced his cock into her and instead of jerking (because there isn’t anyone fucking her), her body was moving backwards, deviating from the plot a little.

The huge cock kept thrusting into her juicy cunt, dripping her fluids over the bedsheets as he went deeper. After some time, the man closed her knees together and went down for a lick, causing her to lift her hips higher for him.

Once she was wetter than before, her feet opened up while her thighs remained shut, giving the man a different kind of doggie, a much tighter and overwhelming one. All of a sudden, she rolled over on her back and spread for the camera, rubbing her own clit while her feet hovered in the air, pulling the unseen figure into her pussy.

Desiree: ‘I am cumming!’

And so was the main character. After she went hyper speed on her clit, an unexpected sight greeted me. A powerful jet of cum squirted at me, barely missing my camera. Her body then went into a convulsion, thrashing around in the bed while her fingers were clamped between her legs.

Damn, I had not placed this information down when I wrote the story. In the turn of event, the ‘guy’ pulled out of her and came over her body, while she trembled in cold sweat on the clean bedsheets.

Panting deeply, she lifted the blindfold away and looked at me with teary eyes.

Me (whispering): ‘Are you alright?’
Desiree (whispering): ‘Yeah. It felt so real. Do you have another story?’
Me (whispering): ‘Nope. It’s too time consuming to write.’
Desiree: ‘To think that a writer is saying that. *chuckle*’

Yeah. How could I ever say that? I cleaned her up with a towel and let her wear her panties back, before showing her the photos I took. Somehow, looking at herself in those compromising poses turned her on again, and the poor me had to endure the next fifteen minutes listening to her moans while she masturbated herself.

With our agenda fulfilled, we packed up and left the hotel, but not before having dinner together. Did I go overboard with such an ‘out-of-the-world’ idea?

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