The author thanks Mike, my exquisite tonguer, for his inspiration, and for his constant motivation and gentle encouragement to share this story. Our respective contributions are duly noted where appropriate.
Jessica writes
With some difficulty, Mike finally found the address where Jessica had told him to meet her for lunch. It was a very exclusive part of town, the streets lined with well-trimmed, tall hedges. There was no name on the door, just a number. He parked his Harley, approached the gate and rang the doorbell. A woman's voice came over the intercom inquiring as to his needs. Mike replied that he was here to meet a friend for lunch. The friend's name, asked the voice? Mike answered, "Jessica." The gate opened automatically. He entered, walked down a well-manicured path and into the house. The hostess greeted him and led him to a table. Mike looked around. It was a very luxurious place, very quiet, very discreet, with a handful of tables with obviously serious, well-to-do people having business lunches. The place was very hushed, the lights dimmed so that only the actual place settings were lit. "An ideal place for a high-power lunch," Mike mused to himself in awe and admiration. Looking up, he saw that the hostess had led him to a corner table where a woman was sitting by herself. She smiled and lifted her hand to him, "Jessica, pleased to meet you. Please have a seat." He took her hand in his, introduced himself and sat down. His eyes ran up and down her body. She was in her mid-thirties, nice, long hair, big, gleaming eyes, a soft mouth, delicate shoulders and very small breasts (his eyes lingered there for a while) and then the rest of her body, sharply attired in an elegant business pantsuit, with just the right touches of color and delicate jewelry. She was flat-chested, tall, slim and very taut, obviously a woman with drive and stamina, into physical fitness. Her smile said it all: she was a woman who craved, obtained, and willed power in every sense of the word.
"Can I get you something to drink?" asked the hostess.
"Scotch on the rocks would be fine," Mike replied.
"He will have the same red wine I am having," Jessica told the hostess. Mike looked surprised. Jessica leaned over, her smile as bright as sunshine, "I am picking up the tab today: you are having what I say." And with this she laughed. Mike joined her in her laughter, albeit a bit nervous. His juices were starting to flow. This woman, he thought, is going to be a real challenge. Jessica read his thoughts and laughed some more, taking his strong hand in hers, so delicate, with long fingers, trimmed fingernails, and sharply defined veins.
The wine arrived; Mike raised his glass to toast their first encounter, and took a sip. It was strong, full-bodied, and heavy with mysterious scents and flavors --- and went straight to his heart and head. Jessica laughed, "Nice, isn't it?" Mike agreed, his head full of thoughts and confusion. He had never been on a date that started like this before.
Trying to be serious, he looked at her hand, noticed a wedding band, and looked up quizzically at Jessica. Again she laughed, "Yes, sweetie, I was once married, and kept the married last name and wedding band to ward off unwanted predators at social gatherings and airports." Mike was suddenly relieved. An experienced woman was always a lot more fun, he thought to himself.
The waitress brought the menus. Jessica looked up and smiled at her, thanking her and asking for more time. The waitress smiled back knowingly and retreated. Jessica smiled at Mike, sipped her wine and nodded to him to do likewise. He sipped, savoring it, remarking to himself that this must be V-E-R-Y expensive wine. And just then he caught a whiff of her perfume. Those two scents combined to tell him that they were a lethal combination: taste and smell together drove his juices into overdrive.
"So, Jessica, tell me about your fantasies."
No sooner had the words left his mouth that Mike felt like a complete idiot. Here he had been planning a suave turn-on and instead had blurted his most animal instincts outright!
She smiled, "A bit direct, aren't we?"
He blushed, "Sorry."
She tossed her head back and laughed, "No worry. It had to come out sooner or later. I prefer a man who knows what he wants." They both sipped some more wine, the waitress filling their glasses again. "Mike, you have read my stories already. They are all mostly autobiographical. Change a name here and there, a place or a setting, but they are all me. So there you have it. You know all about me. You have seen me, you have felt me, and you have known me through my stories. I feel like you have already fondled my exquisitely sensitive nipples, you have caressed my legs and devoured my most intimate parts; you have fingered my tight ass, and kissed my slender neck and ears. I have been totally naked for you and now I feel like I am on your gynecological table, exposed and vulnerable, legs high up and parted nicely for you. Your time has come. I want you to do everything, everything and more. My body is open for you. Every orifice of mine is now inviting you to start."
She laughed and stared at him. He sipped some wine. This was really good wine, he thought to himself again. And she is really good, too. He was at a total loss for words. She nudged him. "Come on, show me."
His hands shook as he reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. In her emails, Jessica had already told him to bring lots of nice, detailed pictures of his inventions and creations. But his fingers were trembling too much as he fumbled to open the thick envelope. "Maybe we should wait?" he asked.
Jessica was not the waiting type. "Here, let me do it." She slid her chair over to be closer to him. Her perfume was driving him crazy. He could almost smell her hormones racing wildly and his were panting to keep up with hers. She ripped the envelope open, and took out the stack of pictures. Mike looked around, quite nervous about exposing his most erotic insertions in a public place. She was not fazed in the least. She quickly leafed through them, smiled, took a sip of wine, nodded to him to follow suit, and asked him to talk about each one, to talk to her about each one.
Mike started to stammer a bit, describing the first one as best he could, his head spinning. She was starring at the picture, a detailed close-up of one of his most inventive insertions for a woman of desire. Listening attentively, she reached under the table and found his erection throbbing under his jeans. The only thing Jessica said, without looking up from the picture, was, "Take it out, please."
Mike obeyed meekly, half in disbelief.
Jessica dipped the thumb and index of her left hand unceremoniously in the butter by the bread plate, reached under the table and began to stroke just his tip. Only the tip, ever so lightly, her generously buttered fingers sliding around effortlessly over and around his wildly engorged tip. She passed the page and onto the next image. Mike was bravely trying to be calm and professional, explaining how it worked. But deep down inside his mind was racing. Jessica was expertly driving him out of his mind. Mike reasoned that at the pace and lightness of Jessica's touch, he could stay there forever, just as he was, letting her do her thing to him. His erection was more powerful than he could ever remember, and yet Jessica kept at it, light and delicate. Mike swallowed hard, very hard, as he tried to explain the second insertion.
The waitress stopped by at that very moment. Mike thought he wanted the earth to swallow him. "Are you ready to order?"
Jessica asked the waitress about the specials. But at that very moment, she switched her tempo and direction. Mike had no idea when, why, how, or where, but he instantly felt his first, powerful ejaculation shoot under the table. He moaned, arched his back against the chair, and gripped the table with both hands. The waitress looked at him quizzically. "He is just happy to see me," Jessica explained, "Give us a few more minutes, please." The waitress nodded, smiled a bit strange, and walked away.
Jessica kept her index under Mike's erection, just lifting it as he continued ejaculating under the table, holding it there until he was finished. "That was very nice." Turning the page, Jessica continued calmly, "Now tell me about this one."
Mike was trying to make sense of the world. Here he was in the presence of a beautiful, successful, driven and powerful woman, not even half an hour, and he had already shown her three of his insertions, talked about them, ejaculated in her hand under the table, and lunch had not even started yet.
"Jessica, just what is it you want from me?"
"Mike, I want you to use all your insertions in me. I want to be your model and tester."
