The first time I saw Brandy was when my fiancee pointed her out at a party. Michelle said, "the girls have warned me about that one... she's the kind that likes to break couples apart." I gave her a once-over: pale skin, short black hair, waiflike... nothing at all like the curvy golden blonde that Michelle was. I looked back at Michelle and shrugged with a half-smile. We didn't speak of her further.

The next time I saw her was a couple of weeks later. I was out at a bar shooting pool after work; I had found that if I drank Coke while everybody else was drinking beer, I could pick up an extra twenty or fifty bucks an evening. No payroll taxes, either. Brandy was doing the black-bra-under-white-shirt look, which is kind of attractive in a slightly trashy sort of way. I gave her a nod of recognition when our eyes met, and looked back at the table. I didn't have a shot, but I could make sure the other guy wouldn't either.

She came over when the game was finished and passed me a slip of paper with a phone number on it. "I'm glad I saw you," she said. "I was hoping you could ask Michelle to call me." She had just the right amount of smile on... enough to make it clear she was lying, not so much that she didn't have plausible deniability. She was good at this.

I smiled back. "I'll be sure to do that," I said, as I tucked the slip of paper into my wallet- which, of course, was another signal in this sort of game. Numbers in wallets are different from numbers in pockets. She smiled back at me over her shoulder as she was walking away.

A week later, I gave Brandy a call as I was leaving work. "Hey, Brandy, it's Damian. I was going to go shoot some pool again this evening and I was wondering if I might see you there." Very casual.

She was equally casual. "Oh hi, Damian. Yeah, I was thinking about going out tonight anyway, so I might see you there." We said our goodbyes and I headed for the bar.

I was getting ready to break when she came in. Black and white again- short black denim skirt, and a man's white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, unbuttoned to mid-torso. A bustier girl wouldn't have been been to get away with that, but it worked on her figure... she wouldn't be showing anything unless she wanted to. I speculated that she would be wanting to. I nodded a smile at her and got back to the serious work of winning a five-dollar game of 8 ball.

She suprised me by coming straight over as soon as I missed a shot; I had expected that she would mingle for a bit first. Instead, she came up beside me and casually leaned a breast against my arm while telling me how good it was to see me. I was right about the shirt. There was no bra. Apparently, she was done with being subtle. I was fine with that; I looked pointedly down her shirt, and told her that it was good to see her too. Her body was warm against my side and soft against my arm, and she was apparently comfortable holding the contact for as long as I was... which wouldn't be long, unfortunately, as it was going to be my shot soon.

"Do me a favor?" I asked. She nodded. "Get me a Coke from the bar, and whatever you'd like for yourself." I handed her a ten.

"Sure," she grinned up at me. "Be right back." She swayed away in her black skirt. She grinned again when she caught me looking; I winked back. She returned in a few minutes with a "Your beverage, sir." I laughed and asked if she was angling for a tip. She didn't say anything, just smiled and looked coy.

I won the game, but I told the other guy to stay on the table as I was done playing pool for now. He smirked at that and suggested that I have a good time. I allowed as how I might just do that.

"Hey, Brandy... it's awful noisy in here and there's something I'd like to ask you. Do you think we could step outside for a few minutes?"

"Sure, Damian."

We stepped outside, and I led her around to the back of the building. I leaned against the wall and just looked at her, smiling. She couldn't handle that for long... she was almost vibrating with anticipation.

She asked, "so what did you want to ask me?" She was trying for casual; she was almost but not quite able to keep her excitement out of her voice.

I replied, just as casually and without the nervousness, "I wanted to ask if you'd mind if I finished unbuttoning your shirt."

I almost laughed at the way her mouth worked silently around the complete lack of words her brain was giving it, but I managed to keep my amusement silent. I've always found that the direct approach is best... when you all-of-a-sudden cast the game aside, the confusion is most enjoyable.

I gave her a slow smile and said, "so you wouldn't mind, then?" She recovered enough to give me a big grin and shake her head no, so I leaned her against the wall and started tugging the shirt out of her waistband.

She lifted her hands to stroke up my chest as she said, "Wow... you really surprised me with that."

I took her hands in mine, holding them still, and replied laughingly. "Good! I meant to." I paused then, with my eyes locked on hers, then continued. "What I'd really like you to do right now is to put your hands behind your neck, and keep them there. Will you do that for me?" She paused, looked at me, thought... then nodded. I let go of her hands, and she slowly lifted her hands and folded them behind her neck. She gave me a complicated look... trying for 'challenging', I think, but with undertones that said she wasn't used to taking directions like that, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

I smiled at her and said in a gentle voice, "you see, this way we can focus completely on what I'm doing to you," and I slowly traced a finger very lightly from her collarbone, down between her breasts, to where the last two buttons of her shirt were holding it closed, and then proceeded to finish the unbuttoning as I continued, "without being distracted by what you're doing to me." I gave her another smile as the last button opened, and asked "Make sense?"

I stroked my fingers up her ribs, caressing but not tickling, pushing her shirt open with my forearms, as I watched her eyes turn luminous and dilated. She managed to breathe out a "yeah" when I paused and lifted my eyebrows for her answer. I rewarded her with my thumbs brushing firmly over her nipples, and her eyes closed as her head rocked back and her body arched towards me.

I looked over the prize I had just bared... lovely high breasts, a light blue tracery of veins visible beneath the milky skin. Pale pink nipples, barely darker than the flesh around them, but crinkled hard with arousal already. Flat stomach, with that double curve of muscle that said her figure wasn't just from dieting. A nice curve of the waist, not exaggerated but noticeable, in proportion to the rest of her body. I've always found that narrowing above the hips, the "cello curve", to be one of the most beautiful aspects of the feminine form. I continued to thumb her nipples and she mewed and writhed in my hands, her eyes still closed.

I kept my voice soft and warm as I began to explain things to her. "There are good girls and there are bad girls, Brandy. Now, most of the time, good girls get treats, and bad girls get spankings, right?" My hands were sliding up and down her body, caressing her sides and breasts and belly as I stroked her. "Right?" I asked again. "Ye... yeah," she managed to gasp out. I'd had no idea she was going to be this responsive; it made things a lot easier.

"Well, that's not the way it works with me," I continued. "With me, the good girls get the treats AND the spankings. The bad girls... they just don't get anything at all." I paused a moment to let that sink in; I knew when to continue when she shivered and her eyes snapped open. She stared into my eyes as I asked softly, "are you going to be a good girl for me, Brandy?" She swallowed again and nodded slowly with her eyes locked on mine, looking very serious and very vulnerable.

I moved forward, pressing my pelvis against hers and parting her thighs with one of my own, moving my face close into her personal space, and almost whispered to her. "If you're a good girl... if you do as you're told... then I'm going to make you feel very, very good. Would you like me to make you feel good, Brandy?" She managed to speak, now, in a very small voice. "Yes, please."

As my hands brushed back up across her breasts, I took her nipples in between my thumbs and the second knuckles of my forefingers, and began to tug and twist them, while pressing my thigh up more firmly against her center, and she moaned. "If you're a good girl... if you do as you're told... then I'm going to make you come until you pass out. If you're a bad girl... if you DON'T do as you're told... then I'm going to go home and make Michelle come until SHE passes out. Do you understand?" Her response was just moans and writhing. I asked again if she understood, while doing mean, painful things to the nipples I had captured, and she gasped out a yes. I corrected her: "Yes, sir." She groaned, and ground herself against my thigh, and said "yes, sir." I leaned forward and took an earlobe gently in my teeth, and rewarded her with a whispered "good girl". She shuddered against me.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into a full-body embrace with my fingers splayed high and low across her back, and began to rhymically press my thigh up against her. "I'm guessing that you need to have an orgasm before we get to anything else, am I right?" I felt her nod against my shoulder as she started to hump against me in time to my thigh's movements. "Do you think you can come just from this?" "Oh god yes," was her response. I chuckled into her ear and kept on with what I was doing. It didn't take long. She managed to keep it fairly quiet, by muffling her cries against my shoulder. I got hints that she'd be a wailer if there were more privacy.

Once I felt she'd be able to stand up, I unwrapped myself from her and stepped back. She was beautiful, still flushed from her orgasm, chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath, eyes liquid with pleasure, lips curved into a surprised smile. I smiled back, and asked "having a good time so far?"

She laughed. "Wow. Just wow."

"Good," I replied, "because we're not anywhere close to done." I paused for a moment, then asked "Are you wearing panties?"

"Yes... sir."

"Give them to me, please."

She decided to turn it into a little show, rolling her shoulders to lift her breasts as she leaned back against the wall behind her, twisting her hips from side to side as she slid her hands up under her skirt, eyes and smile locked on me the whole time, sliding them down teasingly slow as she watched me enjoying the way her breasts hung under their own weight as she leaned forward and stepped out of them. White, small but not a thong... sexy and very damp. She placed them in my outstretched hand and leaned back against the wall. "Now what, sir?"