I learned from the surveys into sexual relationships that many people didn't know how to start. So I started up an agency to guide the more daring of these people through by providing scripts they could follow. The following story illustrates how a man and woman can progress, using a script.
......................................
"Yes, I think we may be able to help you. Just follow the script provided," the agent told me.
"Okay, I'll try it," James said.
"Remember, it's best to not to read it in advance, just flow with it as it progresses."
I arrived at the apartment building and pressed the buzzer next to apt. 69.
I had my script open, so when the female voice said, "Yes?" Reading from the script, I responded, "Telephone repairman."
The security door clicked as she said, "Come on up."
I knocked on the door 69, which was opened. A smiling woman, about 35 years of age, bright red lipstick, and a floral print shift stood there with a script in her hand. The script read, "Stare at her breasts." She blushed, saying, "Please come, in."
She didn't give me much room to pass through the door, and moved toward me as I slipped by her, touching me lightly on the arm with her breast, as I continued looked at the script.
As she closed the door, I read from the script, "How can I help you today?" I noticed her shift was pretty short, exposing almost all of her beautiful smooth legs. I was wearing the overalls provided by the agency, thankful of the comfortable fit as I start to stiffen.
"My telephone stopped working, I don't know what's wrong with it."
She walked across the room, placed her feet wide apart and bent at the waist to pick up a handset on the floor. The curve of her hips framed a wide patch of red panties, as her dress rode up. The mound of her womanhood moulded the shiny cloth.
"Can you see anything wrong?" she asked, and then stood with the phone in her hand.
"It looks in good form to me," I read as she handed me the phone.
I took the phone, picking up the receiver to listen. "The receiver look fine, but there's nothing coming through. Would you show me where the socket is?" I read.
"Oh yes, just come through here," she said, as she tugged at her dress front.
I followed her into the next room, where she knelt and stuck her head beneath a small table. Her dress rode up even further this time, I looked as her ass stuck up when she arched her back.
I stiffened more; I tried to hide my tenting overalls with the script.
"Can you see it under here?" she said pointing under the table.
When I didn't respond, she turned her head, catching me staring at her panty-covered vagina.
I lifted my script to read from it, "Yes, yes. It needs some plugging in."
Looking up from the script, her eyes were wide, focused on the movement in my overalls.
She looked me in the eye, then down again. I felt we were swimming in emotions.
She went back to her script. "Oh my goodness, of course it does. Would you please plug it for me?"
Following the script, the next block said to kneel down beside her and plug in the phone, carefully brushing the back of my arm gently across her breast, saying, "With pleasure."
As I knelt, I noted her musky fragrance. She drew in a quick breath as I slid my arm along her breast, feeling the warmth. As we looked into each other's eyes, her wide pupils drew me in.
She blinked and read, "Thank you. Would you like some coffee?"
My script said "If she says 'Thank you. I need to make some urgent phone calls now', then you must say 'Glad to meet you, thank you' and leave.
If she asks you to have some coffee, but you don't want to continue then say 'No, thank you.' she'll thank you and you can leave. If you want to continue say 'Yes. Yes, I'd like that very much' and proceed".
The building excitement between us had driven me past my usual inhibitions.
"Yes. Yes, I'd like that very much."
We went to the kitchen. I sat at down at the table, as per the script, as she carried over a cup of coffee. Her nipples raised the thin cotton, the dark her areoles showed as a shadow through. She appeared to trip, the warm coffee splashed across my chest and puddled in my lap. I was shocked but realised the coffee wasn't hot.
"I'm so sorry," she said as she grabbed up a kitchen towel and dabbed at my chest, rubbing downward to my erection. "I'm sorry, now you're pants are all wet." The warm liquid spread though my groin and when she touched my penis through the fabric I let out a quick gasp.
"That's all right."
She read from her script, "I'd better wash that for you."
"Would you?" I read.
"Sure, it won't take long, why don't you slip them off in the bathroom. You'll find a robe there, though I'm afraid it may be a bit small."