Aristippus - Jessica's Story

When I arrived at LAX, Luna was there to greet me and help me with my luggage. On the drive back home, he peppered me with questions. How was it? How did you do? And was it anything like what I expected? All good questions and I answered every one in great detail. What I didn't mention was Bennie, and I really had no plans to. My affair with Bennie was my Bitch-slap at Luna for not going with me when I felt that he should have been there to support me. I know, there's that B-word again, but that's how I felt.

Once back in our neighborhood, we didn't go straight home. Luna took me to Ichiban for a celebratory sushi dinner. Ichiban is one of my favorite restaurants, and he knew that. And as sushi can be rather expensive, it was a special treat.

That night at home, he helped me unpack and continued with questions about the trip. And once in bed, we did make love. I did enjoy it, as it was sweet and caring. But it still wasn't the same as our first two years together.

* * *

About three or four months later, I was working a day shift at Paradise. I had already graduated with an associate degree from Orange Coast College, and I was just taking additional classes at random. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. And I realized my dream of becoming a professional surfer was just a pipe dream (pun intended). My parents kept paying my tuition to take additional classes, as they hoped I'd find myself and transfer to a four-year school. My dad was a lawyer, and I know he would have loved for me to follow in his footsteps.

However, while still searching for the real me, I was working days at the Paradise - almost full time. When one day, about three or four months after Hawaii, I spotted an attractive business type, wearing a sport coat and pressed white dress shirt. He was sitting by himself, studying the menu. No other waitress had spotted him, so I dashed over to claim him. We didn't really have rigid sections, so he was fair game. And his type was almost always good for a big tip.

"Hi," I said with a big California smile. "I'm Jessica, and I'll be serving you today."

He looked up, and with a responding smile, said, "Hi, Jessica. What's good here?"

I almost laughed out loud, but I caught myself in time. "Well, other than the salads and the burgers, everything here is fried. So, personally, I'd stick to one of those."

He actually laughed, and asked, "Okay, I'll go with a burger; which one do you like?"

I think he appreciated my honesty, and I replied, "Well, my favorite is the Catalina. It's served on a Ciabatta bun, with grilled onions on the bottom, a hamburger patty, Swiss cheese, and then topped with our house-made coleslaw. It's sweet and tangy at the same time, and it's pretty good."

"Great," he said. "And how about a beer?"

He didn't look like a Bud man, so I suggested, "How about a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale?"

"Perfect," he replied as he handed me back the menu. I dashed to the POS to put his order in, and then reaching to the very back of the Reach-In to get the coldest pint glass I could find, I poured his beer myself. Quickly returning with his frosty pint, and continuing to flirt my ass off, I asked, "So, what brings you to the Paradise?"

Taking a sip of his beer first, he looked back up at me and said, "Oh, business. I'm in town for a business meeting, and I thought I'd just take in some of the beautiful California sunshine while I'm here."

"Where are you from?" I asked with my best perky sun-drenched smile.

"Chicago," he answered, just as my beeper signaled that his burger was ready. I dashed to the kitchen window to grab it while it was still hot, and making sure it looked perfect, hurried it to his table.

I kept my eye on him the whole time he was eating, and when it appeared he was finished, I walked over to ask if there was anything else I could do for him. He smiled and just asked for the check. As I placed it on his table, he dropped his credit card onto the check booklet without looking at the total, and I hastily ran to run the card. I was expecting a nice tip, and I was not disappointed.

After adding an almost fifty percent tip, he signed the slip, closed the booklet, and placed his business card on top. "Jessica," he said, tapping the business card. "I have a very important business meeting tomorrow night. It's a wine tasting and dinner, actually. I am welcome to bring a plus one, and I would be honored if you would consider accompanying me." He paused as he waited for my reaction. "I realize you may have to work, so I can offer you five hundred dollars, if that would help."

I was just about to say, yes anyway. But I could certainly use the money as I was trying to buy a new car, and I could use that for a down payment. So, I quickly nodded yes, and added, "Thank you, I would love to."

I was absolutely beaming, and I'm sure he saw that. So, with a nice friendly smile of his own, he tapped his business card again, and said, "This is my name, Henri Marklin, I'm a wine distributor for the Mid-West, and this is my cell phone number." He tapped the card once more, and added, "Please call me as soon as you can. That way, I'll have your contact information, and I can tell you about the dinner."

I immediately noticed that his name was spelled with an "I," the French way, and I was already tingling with excitement. "I will, Henri, and thank you so much. I'm really looking forward to it."

Now I know, he could be a serial rapist, or the French version of Jack the Ripper. But I didn't think so. I had his credit card information, plus his business card looked very legit, so I felt pretty safe. This was going to be a great night, and I was extremely excited.

As soon as I got back to the hostess stand, I texted him, "Hi Henri, this is Jessica Swearingen, and this is my cell number. Please call me after five with all of the details. And thank you again; I'm very excited."

I shouldn't have given away how excited I was, but I just couldn't help myself. Henri called about five minutes after five, as I was walking home (my car was in the shop as usual), and he explained the entire event. It was the release of a winery's next season of wine, and it was a big dinner for distributors, wine critics, and the family of the winery. He told me that officially the dress was Business Casual, but that he was wearing a coat and tie, and that I should dress up - just not too formal.

I didn't have a class the next day, and I told the manager that I wouldn't be in. I spent all day getting ready. A long soaking shower, an hour of doing my hair, and the perfect dress. I've had this dress since high school, but I just rarely get a chance to wear it anymore. It's the proverbial little black dress. It's short, but not too short. Maybe mid-calf. Black satin under layer, with a top layer of black lace. Very elegant and very sexy. It has a scalloped neckline, which shows only a hint of cleavage. But it's completely backless, all the way to the small of my back. I was surprised that it still fit, but it fit perfectly, and I felt so sexy wearing it.

Due to the extremely low back, there was no way to wear a bra, but the dress had a built-in bodice, so it really wasn't necessary. I had on a brand new pair of black lace bikini briefs, so just add a pair of black high heels, and a soft green sea glass necklace. And I was ready to go. The necklace was a gift from a high school admirer. It never did him any good, but I had high hopes for Henri.

I was waiting at the curb when Henri pulled up. He was clearly driving an airport rental, as it had the little tale-tail window sticker. But it was a full-size car, probably a Buick or something, and it was very nice. On the hour-long drive down the coast, he asked all about my surfing, my college experience, and my family. He never asked about my current living situation, and I was grateful for that.

I was aware that there were large wineries between Los Angeles and San Diego. But I had never seen one. When we pulled up, I was truly impressed. The fields of vineyards stretched as far as the eye could see, and they were absolutely beautiful. And once we reached the manor house, I was even more impressed. Of course, it was in the traditional Spanish Hacienda style. But it truly was much prettier than most of the knock-offs that seem to permeate Southern California.

The valets and waiters were all dressed in traditional Colonial Spanish attire, and wine flowed freely. Henri seemed to know everyone there, and he introduced me as Jessica Swearingen, his California Representative, to everyone he stopped to talk to. And that was just about everyone.

Around seven o'clock, the actual wine tasting began. We were all given fresh glasses, and with every wine, Henri would whisper to me what I should be tasting. I've always liked wine, but I had no idea of the complexity and layers of flavors in truly fine wine. I had no idea you could taste pepper, and leather, and even tobacco, if you just knew to seek them out. And the fruit flavors and spices, all from a grape - it was amazing. And I was so grateful for the experience.

Dinner was served at eight on the Grand Patio. It was an outdoor stone patio lined with trellised grape vines and flowers. Luckily it never rains in Southern California (as the old expression goes), and I'm not sure what they would have done if it did. But they were lucky, and it was a fabulous California evening. Everything the Chamber of Commerce dreams of. And the dinner was even more impressive.

We started with a Muse-Bouchée of caviar on these little crackers with cream cheese and various peppers. Then an appetizer of the best ceviche I had ever had - how did they know? Followed by a salad of field greens, avocado, and cherry tomatoes. And all that was before dinner. The dinner was roasted chicken, but unlike any chicken I had ever eaten. And it was served with a rice pilaf, mixed vegetables, and the most delicious mushroom sauce.

Now on the surface, that all sounds rather unassuming, but believe me, it was incredible. And every course was accompanied by a different wine. And then there was dessert. The waiters asked each guest if they would prefer the chocolate or the fruit. Being female, I, of course, chose the chocolate, and Henri took the fruit, both of which were served with Champagne. We shared our desserts, and I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

I might mention, that sharing our desserts was the only incident of inappropriate coworker behavior we exhibited. Other than that, Henri treated me with the highest level of dignity and respect.

On the drive back to Orange County, the funny thing was that I didn't feel bloated or the least bit drunk. Maybe a little tipsy. But nowhere uncomfortable. Just an extreme level of euphoria and anticipation for what was next. After maybe ten minutes or so of awkward silence, Henri finally said, "Jessica, you understand I'm married, don't you?"

"Yes," I cautiously replied.

Henri turned briefly to look at me, and after turning back to his driving, said, "My wife is an attorney and travels extensively in her work. Usually to New York and other major cities on the east coast. Plus, Washington. She is a partner in a firm that specializes in securities law. And she is frequently in court, sometimes for weeks at a time. We have two daughters; one is twelve, and the other is nine.

"Since my wife and I both travel so much, we also have a full-time nanny, who lives with us and helps with the girls when neither one of us are home." There was a very long pause to see what my response would be, and when there wasn't any, he squeezed my hand and said, "I just wanted to make sure there was no miss understanding."

I pulled my hand out from underneath his and placed it on top. I squeezed his hand several times, and said, "There's no misunderstanding Henri; I understand fully. And I'm perfectly okay with it."

As we continued to speed north, he nervously added, "I keep an apartment in Costa Mesa, as I'm here so often. It's actually cheaper than staying at a hotel every time I come. Plus, I can keep a few personal and business items there, and I don't have to carry them back and forth." There was now even a longer pause, before he asked, "Would you like to see it?"

I took my hand off his and gently placed it on his leg. "Yes Henri, I would love to see your apartment." I then squeezed his thigh briefly, before starting to gently rub it, as we made our way to his home away from home.

After leaving the freeway, we traveled maybe half a mile, before Henri slowed and signaled a left turn. I realized it was a multi-story condo, with underground parking. Stopping to punch in the security code, the gate swung open, and down we went into the garage. Once out of the car, Henri walked me to the elevator and pushed the button for the fifth floor.

Upon entering the apartment, I realized that the living room had floor-to-ceiling windows and a balcony that faced the ocean. The curtains were open, and it was dark outside, but you could easily see the moonlit Pacific Ocean stretching out before you. "Henri, this is beautiful," I said as I turned to face him. For the first time, he took my hand and led me to the wall of plate glass. There he slid the door open, and we stepped out onto the balcony together. We were still maybe a half-mile from the beach, so you couldn't hear the surf. But you could see the moonlight reflecting off the water and smell the sea air. A fragrance I have known all my life, and one I genuinely love.

Standing silently in the moonlight, Henri turned to me and sweetly smiled. We briefly gazed into each other's eyes before I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. Due to my high heels, our faces almost perfectly aligned, and then slowly and cautiously, I brought my lips to his. Our kiss lasted several minutes, and when our lips finally began to part, I stepped back, placed my hands on his jacket lapels, and gently pushed them from his shoulders. He allowed me to slip him out of his jacket, and I laid it neatly on a nearby chaise.

As I returned my attention to Henri, I placed my hands on his tie and tried to remove it. However, I had no experience with men's ties, and he graciously brought his hands to mine to assist me. With his tie soon resting on his sport coat, I then started on the buttons of his shirt. When I reached his belt line, he pulled his shirt out from the waistband, and unbuttoned the last two buttons himself, as I started on his cuff links. I knew what cuff links were, but I'd never seen a man wear them, and I had no idea how to remove them. He almost chuckled, but smiling sweetly at me, removed them himself, again saving me the embarrassment of not knowing how to undress a well-dressed man.

As he was now naked to the waist, and I was still fully clothed, he wrapped me again in his arms. And as we kissed again, I could feel him searching for any snaps or zippers that held my dress to my body. Unfortunately, there weren't any. The dress was tailored at my hips, so the only way to get it on or off, was over my head. My dress dropping to the floor would have been far sexier, but sadly, I had to break our kiss long enough for me to step back and pull the dress off over my head.

Now I was the one almost fully nude. Standing on Henri's balcony in the moonlight, I was only wearing my sea glass necklace, my black lace bikini undies, and my high heel shoes. Henri was still wearing his pants, and that needed to change.

I assume he was more comfortable indoors than out on his balcony, for after admiring my form for a moment, he picked up his coat and tie, and again taking my hand, led me to his bedroom. It had the same plate glass view of the Pacific Ocean and had the added benefit of a beautiful king size bed. As I laid my dress on a nearby chair, Henri sat on the bed and removed his pants, shoes, and socks. While I safely removed my necklace and high heels. He stopped at his boxers, so I temporarily left my panties on as well.

Henri pulled back the bed cover and the top sheet and invited me to his bed. The sheets were the softest and silkiest things I had ever felt. And again, I wondered what it must be like to have the money for such luxuries. He quickly joined me, and after pulling the top sheet over us, we embraced in a long and sensuous kiss. Then as our bodies twisted and intertwined in the passionate union of two lovers' souls, I could feel Henri's erection pressing against my legs and hips.

No longer satisfied with only feeling his phallus through the taught fabric of his boxers. I rolled him to his back and slid my hand under the waistband of his only remaining garment. Touching his bare skin with my fingers only heightened my urgency to taste him. Almost involuntarily, I suddenly sat up, throwing the sheet to the foot of the bed. Then grabbing the elastic waistband of Henri's shorts, I yanked them to his feet and tossed them across the room. I still had my panties on, but at the moment, they were of no concern. I wanted Henri in my mouth, and seconds later, my lips were tenderly closing around his swollen crown. I had tasted Luna hundreds of times. As well as Travis, Martin, Bennie, and even Johnny, but I had never tasted anything or anyone as delicious and as satisfying as Henri. Lying beside him, I gently cradled his heavy sack, and slowly and succulently began my fellatio.

I didn't want it to end. I wanted to savor this man for as long as possible. Yet I knew I wouldn't be able to deny Henri his release forever. And further, I knew that once I sensed his impending conclusion, I wouldn't be able to stop myself. Tasting his flesh was only an appetizer for the main course I knew was to follow - and I couldn't wait.

Despite trying everything I could to slow the inevitable, I could not fight my instincts to proceed. As my head continued to gently bob up and down, I lowered my wet index finger from the hand that was tenderly cradling his balls. And finding that area of skin just below the scrotum, I rubbed and then pressed. Then rubbed and pressed, and seconds later, we both received our just rewards. Suddenly, my mouth was filled with his hot expression of relief. I swallowed as fast as I could, but with pulsating blast after pulsating blast, he filled my mouth over and over again.

After satisfying myself that I had gotten the last drop, and Henri's breathing slowly returning to only double normal, I scooted up his chest and laid my head on his shoulder. He soon wrapped me in his arms, and together we held each other tightly while I allowed him to fully recover. But despite being fifteen years my senior, I knew we weren't done for the evening. And after a brief respite, it was Henri's turn to devour me.

He didn't bother with throwing the sheet off as I had. He just gently pushed me onto my back. In a series of sweet, wet, traveling kisses, Henri moved down my body to my breast, where he began sensually sucking, kissing, and massaging my firm, yet tender, young feminine orbs until my nipples were so hard they actually hurt.

Finally realizing how sensitive he had gotten me, Henri continued his travel south until he reached my lace panties. He then sat up and lifted my ankles until my legs pointed to the ceiling. Then, snapping them together like closing a pair of scissors, Henri pulled my one remaining garment from my hips, across my knees and then over my feet. He tossed them in the same general direction that I had tossed his underwear. And then, re-spreading my legs, brought them softly back down to the mattress before settling in for his own savory dessert.

I had received oral sex from four different men at this point in my life, but never like this. Henri was an absolute master of the French arts. No wonder he spelled his name with an "I." He didn't just kiss my tender parts, or lick me, or eat me, as some would say. He made love to me with his head between my thighs. I had never known such intimacy and such tenderness in my life. And though I don't think he ever inserted a finger into me, when my release came, I know that I filled his mouth with as much feminine nectar, as he had filled mine with his own expression of gratitude.