Date: Sat, 3 Jul 2010 11:08:59 -0700 (PDT)
From: Nina Russo <onlyninar@yahoo.com>
Subject: Nina's Cover Story, Part 1 (TG)

Nina's Cover Story, Part One

by Nina Russo (onlyninar@yahoo.com)

   ---

My suitcase tips precariously on one wheel as I struggle with my purse, my
cellphone and an overstuffed black hobo bag full of high heels that hangs
from the Pullman handle of my suitcase.

I silently curse and set the suitcase back on its base, taking a moment to
look around the cavernous concrete garage of Reagan National Airport.

I hear a car approaching, its headlights catching me as I try to balance
the hobo bag on top of the now stationary suitcase.

The car slows and, as the window slides down, your eyes take me in and you
kindly ask if I need a hand.

I demur, but you get out of the car and ask earnestly if I need help
getting my luggage to my car.

I grudgingly admit that I don't have a car -- I just arrived from out of
town and ventured into the garage to meet a friend.

You look around the garage and ask, and is this friend coming soon?

Well, I don't know. I just got a voicemail explaining that her Mom took ill
suddenly and that she won't be able to pick me up as planned. So until I
can get a hold of her, I don't see that I have much choice but to return to
the terminal and wait until she calls back.

Nonsense, you say.  I live only a few minutes away from here with
comfortable couches and all the modern amenities. Let me drive you there
while you try to get a hold of her. An uncomfortable plastic seat is no
place for such a beautiful lady to spend the night.

I blush and say, no really, it's okay.

You walk over, open the passenger side door and tell me that you insist.
You couldn't live with yourself if I was stuck for the night in an airport
as awful as National.

Offhandedly I counter with, well, I couldn't just drive off with a perfect
stranger, now could I?

You put our your hand and introduce yourself. I reach out hesitantly and
respond that my name is Nina, Nina Russo.

You gently kiss my hand and add, see Nina Russo, we're not strangers
anymore. The kiss is unexpected but takes my breath away.

You beckon towards the door, your chariot awaits, my lady.

I giggle despite my best efforts and add, without thinking, well, I guess I
could for a little bit.

At that you help me into the passenger seat, close the door and put my
baggage in the trunk.

When you return to the driver's seat and start up the car, you ask me what
brings me to the Nation's capital with so many high heels.

I blush again and explain that my friend is an amateur photographer, and
that I traveled here with a bunch of sexy shoes and alluring outfits to be
silly and pose for some fashion-type photos.

No kidding, I'm a part-time photographer myself! What's her name? Maybe I
know her.

Really? Erika Wylde... with a 'y'.

You think for a moment and say, I think I know her. Very sexy photos,
right?

That's her, as I blush again.

Little bit of bondage?

I blush even more, look down and say in a very small voice, yes.

She's really good. I can't blame her for wanting to take your picture.

Why is that?

Because you would be a perfect subject for those sexy photos.

I blush furiously, but you pretend not to notice, pulling into your
garage. As you park the car, I check my phone and realize just how late it
is, prompting you to ask if Erika has called back yet. I shake my head no
and get out of the car, giving the garage a once over. You walk around the
car and ask if I would like my luggage brought up to the apartment, but I
decline, telling you that I'm sure Erika will call me back soon.

As we enter the elevator, it dawns on me that I have absolutely no idea
where am and that I am about to enter the apartment of a man who I hardly
know!

I glance down and further realize just how inappropriate my outfit is for
the situation that I find myself in since I genuinely am a shy girl at
heart.

I am wearing 5" black leather boots that come to just below the knee with
black nylons and garters, a tight leather pencil skirt, a sexy black
turtleneck with a lattice front that shows off more cleavage than I had
intended and a tight leather jacket. My long nails are painted a dark red
to match my lipstick, complementing my sultry eye makeup and shoulder
length brunette hair.

I sniff the air and wonder if the mixture of my Victoria's Secret Sexy
perfume with the scent of my the Victoria's Secret Sexy shampoo are putting
naughty ideas inside you head. Just before the elevator doors open, I
remember that I used, for the first time, a new Victoria's Secret cream
doused with a powerful pheromone that allegedly make me irresistible to the
opposite sex!

I try to take a few deep breaths to calm down the sudden panic building
inside me just as the elevator doors open, but I find myself a little dizzy
from hyperventilation.

Are you okay, you ask?

I shake my head to come back to reality and blurt out, sorry, just feeling
a little light-headed.

You get a look of concern on your face, taking my head shake as my answer,
firmly put your arm around my waist, tenderly grab my hand and escort me to
your apartment.

I'm too surprised to say anything, but find that the touch of your hand and
the grip on my waist send a shiver through my body.

You walk me to your couch and gently help me take a seat.

Can I get you anything?

I'm fine thanks.

You sure? Wine? Something stronger?

Well, I usually drink vodka on the rocks with a straw.

You laugh. Big drinker, are we?

I smile and blush a little. No! I like to sip through those little straws
they have at bars. Otherwise my lipstick gets messed up.

You give me a quizzical look as you prepare the drinks.

Cocktail straws!  That's what they are called.

What?

The clinking of ice cubes makes it hard to hear, and I find myself shouting
just as silence returns, I LOVE COCK...  tail straws.

I look down as you bring the drinks and quickly suck down the vodka in my
embarrassment.

Unaware that you brought a chilled bottle of vodka with you, you instantly
refill my glass without a word.

I mutter thanks, as I pick up the glass and sip in a more ladylike
fashion. As I look up, I notice your gaze on me and I find that I cannot
hold it, looking down and smiling bashfully.

After a pause, I say it's getting rather late and it looks like Erika is
going to abandon me tonight, I think I need to find a hotel.

Well, you could stay here.

Excuse me? I ask indignantly.

I mean, I have a guest bedroom you could stay in.

Oh, is all I can muster as I find myself ashamed as my implied
accusation. I finish my glass to hide my embarrassment and trying to make
up for my impolitic reaction, add, well, I guess I could if it's not an
imposition.

Not at all! You refill my glass again and, with a smile, add, let me get
your bags.

With that you exit the apartment, leaving me to wander through your
apartment with a drink in my hand. As I continue to sip away, I am
impressed by the amazing view and slowly walk to the spare bedroom and your
bedroom. Being the curious (and nosy) sort, I sit down on your four-poster
bed, but hear the front door and and I quickly make my way to the hallway
before you notice where I've been.

You take the bags into the guest bedroom and ask, in passing, if you might
be able to set up a photo shoot with me some day.

I blush yet again and say I don't know, draining my glass to hide my
embarrassment.

You smile and say that you would be honored to take my picture, maybe even
in some of my sexy outfits that I brought.

Well, I'd have to think about that.

Really? I don't want to put you on the spot.

Really, perhaps as a thank you for all of your kindness tonight. It might
even be fun, though I would definitely need a few more drinks in me before
I agree to some of the pictures that Erika takes!

We both laugh as we return to the living room and you refill my empty
glass.

I arch an eyebrow at you and ask, hoping I'll agree tonight, are you?

With a laugh, you say, absolutely! But I do realize that you barely know
me, so I can't blame you for declining.

Well, a few pictures couldn't hurt.

In that case, you stand up and head for the door, I need to retrieve some
lighting equipment I lent to a friend. I should be back in an hour.

I didn't mean... but before I can finish, you are out the door again.

I sigh, finish my drink and walk back to the guest room.

I guess I can always leave a note saying that I've gone to bed.

I put my bags on the bed, unzip my leather pencil skirt and step out if
it. I then carefully remove my turtleneck sweater to not muss up my makeup,
and fold both garments. I open my suitcase and pull out my only bedtime
outfit, a rather tight and short black silk nightie. I put my skirt and
turtleneck back into the suitcase and shrug into my nightgown. Looking
down, I realize just how little it covers, seductively showing off the tops
of my stockings and garters.

Well, I do have plenty of time before you return, so I sit down on the bed
to unzip my boots, and realize just how wonderful your guest bed feels. I
can't wait to get under the covers and get some sleep. I massage my feet
for a few seconds and decide to remove my stockings when I hear my
cellphone ringing in the other room!

Oh no! I left my purse and my phone in the living room!

I quickly grab the pair of heels on the top of the hobo bag, and slip them
on, realizing by the time I get to the door that I am wearing my 6" heels,
fetishly high black stiletto pumps that are not exactly appropriate to be
strutting around a stranger's apartment in.

Undaunted, I sprint as fast as I can in 6" heels to pick up the
phone. Unfortunately, I'm too late and the phone stops ringing. I wait to
see if a voicemail will appear, but to no avail.

Great.

I see my empty vodka glass sitting there and pour myself another glass.

This has not been my day.

I then remember that I should leave you a note and grab a stray sheet of
paper from the living room and start to write you a note.

With a drunken giggle, I start with, "I adore your wonderful bed. I believe
it is calling out to me."

I think for a moment to see if anything else witty will come to me, but to
no avail.

Realizing I should address the potential photo shoot, I decide to give
myself an out. "Since I may be tied up later, I want to repay your kindness
with a sexy photo session. You will be the first to know when I am ready!
Love, Nina."

With a sense of relief that I bought myself some time and leeway, I slowly
walk back to my room with my purse over my shoulder and a glass and bottle
in each hand.

On the way, I pass by your room and decide to look around since I still
have a good 45 minutes before you return.

I finish the vodka to bolster my courage, pour myself another glass and
walk over to your bed and open the drawer of the nightstand next to the
bed. To my surprise, I find a mouth gag with an O-ring!

I pick it up and wonder drunkenly what it would feel like on.

But my better judgment wins out over the alcohol and I put it back. I sit
down on the edge of the bed, stare at my glass again, take another sip and
think for a moment.

In a burst, I down the glass, take a deep breath and pull out the gag
again.

I try it on, tightening the strap in the back. I find it's oddly erotic
since I can't close my mouth, and any sound I try to make ends up sounding
like a moan!

Unfortunately at that moment, all six glasses of vodka hit me like a ton of
bricks, just as I belatedly remember that I never had a chance to eat
dinner!

I try to stand, but the alcohol and the 6" heels are not a good combination
and stumble back onto the bed. Realizing I need a minute, I scoot up and
place my head on one of your pillows. I stretch out my arms as I try to
regain my bearings and notice that my right hand has struck something
unusual. I roll over and realize it's a wrist restraint!

I pull myself close and examine what seems to be one with a
buckle. Fascinated, I put my right wrist through and fumblingly fasten it
tight with my left hand. I pull hard with my right arm and the complete
lack of give sends a surprisingly erotic chill through my body.

Intrigued and aroused, I roll back over and reach out with my left hand to
see what surprise you have in store over there. Since my bound right arm
prevents me from seeing the corner of bed, I feel around blindly until I
find something. I drunkenly explore with my fingers, and without fully
comprehending what I am doing, I slip my wrist through a leather loop. As I
pull my wrist back, I realize something is wrong, horribly wrong.

My wrist is stuck!

I pull feverishly, but it only serves to tighten the loop around my wrist
more! It must be a self-tightening restraint!!

Oh my god -- what have I done!?!

I look down, and realize to my horror that I am bound and very drunk in a
stranger's bedroom, wearing nothing but a skimpy black silk nightie,
six-inch black stiletto heels with black nylons and garters!

At that moment, the note I just wrote runs through my head...

"I adore your wonderful bed. I believe it is calling out to me. Since I may
be tied up later, I want to repay your kindness with a sexy photo
session. You will be the first to know when I am ready! Love, Nina."

OH MY GOD!!

When you return, there will be little doubt but that I eagerly bound myself
to your bed as proof that I want you to take erotic bondage pictures of me
in return for all your kindness!

To make matters works, if that is possible, I've seemingly chosen to strap
an o-ring gag in my mouth!!  An oral sex toy that I can't remove because I
have bound myself, irrevocably, to your bed!

And since the only sound I can make at the moment is what can only be
described as a moan of pleasure, my choices are to moan, an unmistakable
invitation to you to take sexual advantage of the situation, or to stay
silent, an unspoken acknowledgment that I did this intentionally, again
solely for your enjoyment.

My only chance is to try and get out of this predicament on my own, but as
I continue to struggle and thrash about, my nightie rides up and one of the
pillows creeps under my shoulders. I shift myself up to get closer to the
restraints, but the pillow slides under my back, forcing me to arch up and
thrust my breasts out.

Oh no! Now there is no way for you to view this an anything but an open
invitation to take me!

I continue to wiggle, but come to a complete stop as I hear a sound, a
sound that I am dreading.

It's the front door opening...