"The Choice You Make" was almost exactly the way that my real life happened, almost. It is so close to reality that if you knew the person described, you would say, "Yes, that is her." Some have indicated that they would like a more sexual story. Well, I am sorry if my real life did not live up to your fantasies, so here is the way that my relationship with Brimstone Bree would have continued if I had chosen to go with my fantasies.
I glance over my shoulder as Bree heads to the post office. I usually have to be careful not to let her see me looking. This time she is walking out the door and I can pause for an especially appreciative look. Her ass has a nice mature sway to it. Definitely not a skinny college chick! Do I dare stay and see more of it? If I was smart, I would run for my life. Well, I am not that smart and this would probably be my only chance to discover her secrets.
I take a quick peek down the hallway. The first room is a bathroom decorated in a soft but not particularly shocking lilac. The second room is her bedroom with a large king sized bed and generous dresser with a mirror that folds in three sections allowing her to put on makeup from several directions. The furniture is luxurious and expensive, but the print above the bed is more like what I hope to discover.
It is a photographic canvas in black and white, so large that it borders on life-size. It depicts a very handsome naked man hung horizontally in a leather harness with a very large and stiff cock hanging down beneath him. More important than the man however is Brimstone herself standing beside the man caressing his face and turning him against her ample breasts. So apparently her demeanor is not simply a facade.
Of course, I take a quick perusal of the rest of the room. The left-hand drawer in her dresser seems like workout clothes; yoga pants, sports bra, t-shirts. It is hard to believe that someone of Bree's generous proportions works out, but I have heard her talk about exercise so perhaps she is among the unfortunate ones who cannot lose weight. It's not my problem. I like larger women and it is better not to think about your supervisor as a sexy woman. She is more of an abstract force, at least, until now. The second drawer is slips and nightgowns and a violet vibrator. I am not impressed. She has more and worse sitting on her desk at work. I continue my inventory swiftly around the room. It is not always clear if her clothing is intended to be worn in public or private. I have seen her wear the leather dress in the office and never seen the pink babydoll at all. The latter seems too small for her; She might have worn it when she was younger. I do not know how long she will be gone, so I am not going to spend too much time cataloging her clothing. I was disappointed not to discover the harness that the man in the photograph was bound by. There are not any hooks in the ceiling, so I know that the picture was not taken in her bedroom and a third person had to take the photograph, so who knows where she was at. I rush back to her living room, before I am caught snooping or I might end up really bound in a harness like that and spanked and whipped by the implements that she keeps in plain sight back at the office.
