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Letters To DOMAI


Here’s an interesting story - almost a Domai moment in reverse, in a sense. It certainly was one of the most unique get-to-know you events of my life and truly was a delightful way to be introduced to a member of the fairer sex.

This all happened a few years ago, when I was working in a large east coast city in the US. I worked in a large office building, housing several companies. I began noticing an especially pretty worker from one of these other companies in the lobby and elevators, and finally managed to strike up some small talk, and found out her name was Brooke.  She was an accountant working for a CPA firm and had been transferred to that office a few months earlier. Transfers were a frequent practice with her company, as part of their training and this was only the latest transfer. She hardly knew anyone in town and was eager to make new friends. Things gradually evolved into occasional coffee breaks and lunches. After a few weeks I asked her for drinks after work, with some of my friends and then to a couple of dates. Things were moving along nicely.

One evening we planned to go to dinner at one of the nicer restaurants in town and out to some clubs afterwards to dance. That afternoon, however, Brooke called me to tell me she was going to be running late, due to some client meeting. As time was going to be tight, she asked me to wait for her at our office building, and we would go to her apartment so she could change and still make our dinner reservations.

Her meeting ran even longer than she had thought and I was anxious we were going to make our dinner reservation. She told me she could still get ready in time, so we rushed back to her apartment.

No sooner had she opened the door, she began undressing, kicking her shoes off, and tossing her business suit jacket on the coach. It was obvious she was not expecting anyone over, as her tiny living room was stacked with papers and boxes and there was no place for me to sit while she got herself ready. Realizing my dilemma, she waved me into her bedroom where there was a la rge easy chair she must have used for reading in the evening. “Have a seat. I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she said.

The chair faced the door to her bathroom, which had a large walk-in closet off to the side. The shower was around the corner, but the sink and vanity was in full view from where I was sitting.

She stepped into her walk-in closet to continue to undress, still carrying on our conversation. In a moment, she emerged wearing a robe. At that point, I expected her to close the bathroom door, but to my pleasant surprise, she left in wide open and continued talking. I was glad she carried the bulk of the conversation, as I was beginning to get a bit tongue-tied.

She stepped around the corner and I heard her turn the shower on and enter to rinse off. There I sat, imagining her beautiful body, caressed with streaming water, and absolutely glued to the chair, without the slightest idea what to do about it.  And there she was, a few feet away, carrying on a conversation, like this was the most normal thing in the world.

I heard her turn off the water and I could hear the faint sounds of her toweling herself dry. Here she was, talking nonchalantly about her day, asking me questions about the restaurant and the clubs I was going to take her that night, and I sat there, dying. I racked my brains for some suave remark or some casual way to walk in, as the moment appeared to slip away.

I heard her hanging her towel up and figured I’d soon see her in her robe, as she got herself ready. But to my surprise, she suddenly appeared   from around the corner without a stitch of clothing and began to apply her make up in front of the mirror over the vanity.

“Do you want me to go into the other room, or something?” I suggested politely.

“No, stay right there,” she winked at me in the mirror as she began applying eye shadow. “enjoy the view. I’ll be ready in just a moment.”

I have to admit, at that point I did not care if we made our dinner reservation of not. This was all the sustenance I needed. Her figure was about perfect, with long lovely legs, a perfect bottom and slim hips and a well toned back. From the mirror, I could see her firm beautiful breasts and upturned nipples. As the chair faced this incredible sight, I could do nothing but be transfixed.

Then, on top of this absolute surprising turn of events, Brooke followed up with still another.

“I’m almost ready,” she announced, finishing up her makeup and running a brush through her hair. She turned and disappeared into her closet.  A second later she popped back out, holding a small black dress. “You like this?”

“Sure,” I said.

“OK”. She slipped it over her head. No bra, no panties, just the dress. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“But…” I sputtered.

She put a finger over her lips. “Our little secret, this evening.”

Well, I have to say, I never was so intrigued about a little black dress in my life.  The thought of her beautiful sensual body and only a thin piece of cloth over it made her every move, turn and laugh another delight. While the thought of her nude was fantastic, the thought of her as she was, before me was even more.  As I said, it was a Domai moment, in reverse.

We had a fantastic evening, but the whole time I could not forget our little secret, as she so wonderfully phrased it. She must have sensed that, because she finally confessed.

“I wanted to keep your attention. Did it work?” she asked.

It most certainly did. And now I’m proud to say, a year later we were married.


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