Hi, I’m Sarah, and I’ve always loved a good story. Maybe that’s why I’ve got such a soft spot for clever guys who know how to craft one—especially if that story involves me.

A little while back, I met Ben. Like most hot geeky guys, he was shy, unassuming, and trying his best not to offend anyone - the type of guy that could upgrade your RAM and break your heart. My kinda guy lol

Anyway, we met at a mutual friend’s game night—and after learning he loved film, we ended up in an impassioned debate about the chronology of the film Primer. He argued that the nonlinear timeline was a deliberate narrative technique, designed to mirror the disorienting experience of time travel itself. I countered that it was more a reflection of the characters’ spiraling descent into confusion, as they lost track of their own actions and motivations. We found ourselves pulling apart the film’s twisted sequence of events, dissecting every loop and overlap, each trying to make sense of where one timeline ended and another began.

That night, after everyone else had left and we stood somewhat awkwardly under the streetlights, he finally plucked up the courage and asked if I wanted to keep the debate going over a drink sometime. I said yes, and suggested my place as the venue. A little slutty maybe, but I am what I am.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, and Ben was sitting on my living room floor after a few drinks, flipping through my old collection of Choose Your Own Adventure books.

“Were you the kind of kid who always peeked at the endings?” Ben asked, flipping through The Mystery of Chimney Rock.

“Hell no!” I said, feigning outrage. “That’s cheating.”

“So?” he said. “You’re only playing with yourself…” He flushed red. “I mean, uh, you know, like reading with yourself.”

I laughed. It was cute how flustered he was. “I know what you meant. And anyway, so what? The whole point is making the choice, even if it’s the wrong one.”

“Hmmm…” he said, continuing to flip through the pages. “Maybe you’re right. I never had them as a kid.”

“Really?” I said, incredulous. “They were so fun! It was like being the boss of the story. You could lead the characters into danger, or have them stumble onto treasure, all with just a turn of the page. It was like being in control of the adventure.”

“Yeah?” Ben’s voice was a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled skepticism. He glanced up from the book, meeting my eyes for the first time since we started talking about it. “That’s kinda cool, I guess.”

“It really is!” I leaned back in my chair. “It wasn’t just about finding the ‘right’ ending. It was about experiencing the consequences of your choices.”

Ben chuckled. “You sound like you’ve thought a lot about this a lot.”

“Maybe a little,” I admitted. We lapsed into silence for a moment, both of us staring down at the book. Just before it became awkward, I stood up suddenly, surprising myself. “Hey. I’ve got an idea. Wait here.”

As I stepped back into the room, Ben’s eyes widened at the sight of me.

The powder-blue coat I’d chosen hugged my figure, clamping in at the wait and pushing my tits out, making them look twice as big. With its delicate white lace trim and soft, fluffy cuffs, it had an almost storybook-like charm, the kind of charm that was undermined only by how absolutely slutty it was, cutting off at the thigh and revealing the white suspenders below.

“Wow,” Ben said, looking me up and down as I entered the room. “Nice…uh…coat.”

“Thanks,” I replied, turning my legs slightly, holding my foot out toward him momentarily, pretending I didnt nice as his eyes quickly traveled up my leg. “I think you’re going to like what’s under it even more.”

He swallowed. “Oh…uh…you think so?”

I licked my lips and nodded, maintaining eye contact with him. “Well, uh,” he cleared his throat. “What’s under there?”

“You’ll find out soon,” I smiled, wondering if he was hard already. The thought sent a thrill through me. “But only if you make the right choices,” I teased, spinning once so the coat flared out around me a little.

Ben swallowed again, cartoon style, and I could see his mind racing to process what was happening. His shyness was palpable, but there was an excitement in his eyes that gave him away.

“Right choices, huh?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. “What happens if I choose wrong?”

I walked closer to him, closing the distance slowly, deliberately. “Well,” I said, running my fingers across the hem of the coat, lifting it slightly. “Then you might just find yourself at a…less than satisfying ending.”

“And what happens if I choose right?”

“I think you have an idea already, don’t you?” “I think you have an idea already, don’t you?” I said, my voice low and teasing, each word carefully chosen to keep him hooked. Stepping back, I watched him closely, taking in the way his cheeks flushed, his fingers twitching nervously against his knees. The sight sent a thrill through me—a heady rush that came from knowing I had him captivated. The power of being provocative, of leading him through a game where I controlled the tempo and the stakes, was intoxicating. It's why I write in the first place. “So. You want to play?”

“Oh…uh…sure!” Ben nodded, a little too eagerly.

“Excellent.” I settled on the arm of the couch, crossing one leg over the other and leaning in slightly. “Picture this: It’s late at night, a little past midnight, and you’re home alone. You’ve just settled down to watch a movie when there’s a knock at the door…”

Ben shifted in his seat, hooked already. “Okay…”

“You open the door, and there is a woman standing there in a long blue coat, much like this one. She looks a little disheveled, flustered even, maybe a little anxious, but her smile is warm, apologetic. She tells you her car broke down a few streets over, and her phone is dead. She asks if she can come in…”

Ben’s lips twitched into a thoughtful smile. “That’s the choice? To let her in or not?”

“Uh huh,” I said, leaning back slightly, letting the coat ride up a little and show off my milky inner thigh. “That's the first choice. It’s a small one, sure, but every decision shapes the path of the story…”

“Hmmm…”

I smiled, enjoying myself, the pleasurable feeling of the fabric rubbing against my naked pussy beneath the coat. I leaned forward, giving him a view of my huge tits as I pressed my cleavage together.

“So, Ben. What do you choose?”