Reality in the Twilight Zone

A NEW IDEA FOR ME!

She'd sent off a semi business like request for an office lunch meeting. She'd already teased into his mind how she might dress in the office. He had a mental picture. He could see the color and cut of the suit, her stockings, her shoes. He saw how her hair would hang. This is what he expected. He knew. She'd told him.

But she, had her sous chef training under an exceptionally food sensuous Head Chef. She was crafty.

She decided to try to outplay his expectations this time ... adding the first hint of surprise to what she hoped would be a lovely lunch.

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She did not wear the navy business suit, the pink stockings, the navy t strap high heels.

She wore a dress. A white dress splashed beautifully with outrageous large red peonies. The dress had the smallest capped sleeves, was tailored to flatter the bosom and waist, buttoning from the center of her cleavage to her waist. Covered buttons and belted with the same cloth, it flowed in a bias cut swirl to her knees.

Nude legs, straw wedged sandals adorned with mother of pearl fragments. Her toenails, painted the red of the peonies. Her fingernails, remained a delicate trimmed French manicure. The gold rings, His, hers, were in place on either hand.

Modest gold hoops in the ears and a gold heart locket on a chain. No watch....but on each wrist...the most intriguing bracelets, pearl beads braid among gold chains.

Her hair she rolled up and off her neck with no visible comb or adornment. There were always those trails that refused to stay in place...and trickled down her neck or needed pushing behind her ears.

Her make up was not her usual today. The dress required more color for balance. Her lips and cheeks...more reddened...and at the eyes, rather than her usual silver liner...black. Kohl. Just the top lash.

It did work. When he first walked out of his office to greet her in he was clearly struck.

What business did this woman, this feast of color and freshness have in mind? For once, he did not know. But he did smile appreciatively and greet her in with normal business tone....

...until they were inside the office.

And then, he just looked at her and laughed. "Huh!".

She was holding a small red shopping bag, not big enough to hold a loaf of bread. No purse. Just this elegant, but tiny shopping bag. He looked at her and laughed....

"And where is our lunch? If you're going to tell me it's in that sac I'm a little worried. I was hoping we would feast."

"Really Sir! Would I let you down?"

"Of course we have a feast. Tell me now that you did not feast your eyes on me already. And, I'm not bad at this job. I worked as an apprentice chef for a short time...I was in charge of desserts and appetizers...."

"Color. Texture. Visual Presentation...I POPPED into your eye. I know this time. I know you. You find me appetizing. That is what I'm here for."

She smiled with warmest welcome and invited him to please unpack the bag....

....which he did.

A lemon, gorgeous yellow with it's tiny belly button of green; a container of honey...crystallized solid; a miniature bottle of tequila; and a thick bar of white chocolate (a prior request). The only cutlery or setting piece at all was a very lovely silver spoon with an oversized deep blue marble handle.

He looked at the items she had brought to feed him, looked at her with her perfectly painted on innocent face, and shrugged.

"It's your show" he smiled bemusement and leaned back in his chair.

She strode the distance between them and stood now within his grasp, her dress in fact grazing his pant legs.

From his position leaning back in his chair, it was the back of her he watched. She carefully arranged the items for lunch to the side, efficiently organizing any working documents on the desk, and clearing the tableau.

She sat on the desk smiling so politely to him; truly meaning and feeling it. With hands joined over her knees, and legs crossed, she sat: the server on his desk.

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"There's not a lot I know how to do...but there are some little tricks...that make a meal just that much better. Those sensuous touches... like the way I would shape the smoked salmon rosette appetizers to purposely look like sex on a plate...."

(I loved how no one knew I wore red underwear under the crisp white and checkered black of my uniform. My private sex life...the food and I.)

"Today is about just a few good color punches; aroma and bite; a few good tastes and textures; some savoring; some contrast, and frankly some flat out experimentation. I think I've got a menu you will enjoy."

"To begin with, I recommend the woman's legs rubbed in cocoa butter...excellent for it's aromatic quality and smoothness."

With not a moment of hesitance, and in fact with a clear sense of presentation, she uncrossed her legs, uncrossed her arms, wrapped her hands around his neck and draped her legs over his shoulders at her knees.

His smoothly shaved cheek, slid up the length of her thigh, inhaling the cocoa, slipping on the butter. His tongue trailed up her path.

Her dress fell in a flourish about the desk, revealing the entirety of her thighs and that, which was between them....

....on the left thigh, a shocking punch! A black garter of kid leather, tied on, and hanging inside the thigh, draping down it, a small black leather sheath with a black handled knife. And covering her, black panties of satin and lace. "This knife!" he was shocked.

She only laughed.

"Isn't a knife a common tool at most meals?" She grinned into his eyes so playfully that she took the edge off the knife.

"It's a Norwegian ladies knife," she explained. "I received it as a gift but I was never explained it's use. So I just imagined one for us today."

"Tell me then, what do I do with the knife?" He asked.

She took on the tone of the most well trained of restaurant hosts. "The knife is for removing these panties...that is how you begin. Set them aside, we will use those later."

And he did.

Now, she was open to him, exposed, and she took her two modestly polished fingers and covered the brands on either side, and spread open the lips between her legs. She told him, still in her tone of service...

"Please take the knife and cut the lemon in half, and squeeze here, as much lemon juice as you think you might like."

He did.

She smiled and giggled at the tickle of pleasure.

"We are almost ready Sir. This is the final touch of this appetizer..." She opened the tequila bottle and as though it were a bottle of perfume dabbed her fingertip with tequila....

"Please open your mouth and show me your tongue Sir..."

He did.

She dabbed and painted and dabbed and painted his tongue with tequila.....

and placed the triangular large white Toblerone inside herself as he watched.

Even still holding her poise of presentation, she told him...

"Here Sir...is a tiny pearl, most electrifying, and now flushed with a sour juice...

You must lay your tongue...just the tip, under it to cradle it, and your teeth, on top to press it into your tongue.

Of course you do not wish to bite through this...

The challenge will be in your control."

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He did. He brought his face to her and laid his tongue under her small pink pearl, and brought his top teeth down on it most gently.

His senses were being assaulted. Bitter lemon, burning alcohol, the scent of cocoa and white chocolate, woman taste, the tiny flesh gift...He salivated. His teeth shook with his resistance of biting down harder, or letting go and just licking the plate.

But he was so determined...He held her perfectly in between his teeth and tongue, and he surely did feel sated.

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His eyes were closed, being both focused and lost at the same time...he truly forgot her.

When she spoke, even though still in a gentle and hospitable tone, it did cause him to start...

"Don't move your position, but open your eyes Sir and look at me in the eyes..."

He did.

He opened his eyes, but he bit her. Not just a nip. His jaw just placed more pressure and held her in a bite.

She could barely speak, gasping, but kept control, trying to bring him to focus, "Let go" she told him.

He still could not and it was painful for her. That was not his intent at all. But he still was losing the battle with his own mouth.

He was looking into her eyes. He knew this hurt. He could see her expression and the water glazing her eyes...

"Let go, and just relax. Shift your position just a touch, and now just feast. Taste to your heart's content and I hope that you enjoy"

And he did. And she did too.

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The finale of this portion of her presentation was not a plan, but a hope of hers. Of this part, she did not have control. It was up to the gourmet to stir this up.

And he did.

She blossomed open, red flower.

And he did draw from her the sweet liquid that flowed from inside.

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When each had recovered their breath she took no time at all in continuing.

She picked up the cut satin panties, and wiped his face, then cleaned her thighs and between. She put them back down to the side.

She picked up the silver spoon with the blue marble handle and the container of crystalline honey. Scooping in, she filled the spoon with a level measure of honey.

With the spoon facing downward, she inserted the cool blue marble of the handle into her very hot self.

"Now Sir" she spoke, "come take hold of this spoon in your mouth and just hold it there, not moving until I explain."

And he did.

He brought his face back between her legs and took the spoon into his mouth.

"You will note" she explained "not only the sweetness of the honey, but the crystal texture. It is slow to dissolve. You will also note the sensation of the steel back of the spoon."

And he did.

The sugar was already melting slowly on his tongue and he could feel it's rough grainy texture, melting, sweet, amorphous. He did feel that steel on the back of the spoon.

"Please Sir, without moving your head, unfasten your trousers and prepare yourself that I may now eat from you. As soon as you feel prepared, draw your spoon from within me."

He did it. He was prepared.

He toyed with her first, slipping the spoon back and forth in her before withdrawing it and sitting back in his chair.

His withdrawal was her signal that her table was set. She arose from the desk and knelt before him. She lifted him, hot in her hand, and said to him

"Keep that spoon in your mouth. Don't under any circumstances let it go until I say."

With great pleasure, for her own fulfillment, she ate from him. The more he enjoyed it the more she did.

His eyes were closed, being both focused and lost at the same time...he truly forgot her.

He had that spoon in his mouth, and the weight of the marble was causing the steel to push on his palate. By the time he was filling her mouth with his explosive reaction to her hunger he was biting down on the spoon hard.

But that, didn't hurt her at all.

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Once again they took time to recover their breath and composure. She smiled to him and said "I'll bet you could use a drink."

He looked and said, "All I see is a small amount of tequila and I don't think that will do us. You seem to have forgotten the wine."

She smiled with quite a sparkle and said "Really Sir. Do you think I would have forgotten anything?"

With a short walk to the console she said "I choose water over wine" and poured from the office carafe two glasses of natures finest.

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She sat on the desk smiling so politely to him; truly meaning and feeling it. With hands joined over her knees, and legs crossed, she sat: the server on his desk.

They drank their water and smiled. She laughed lightly, looking at him....there was a little honey glaze around his mouth.

She took the black satin panties and dipped them in her water, and washed his face clean.

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It was then that he thanked her for this exquisite torture with some of his own. Pulling her into his arms, he crushed his mouth down upon hers, capturing her lower lip between his teeth, nipping sharply, unrelenting, till the pain jolted her.

Wakefulness made her realize she was biting her own lip . . .

Lunch: Neshe...Office, 1 p.m.

Snama had asked Neshe's manservant if she could investigate the kitchen stores as she wished to prepare a lunch to bring to Neshe.

What she could not find for her menu, the servant offered to go to market for, and did. While he was out, she set to roasting a chicken breast, chopping melons, scallions, and vegetable sticks, and preparing a humus.

That being done, she began to create a simple pastry, filled with chopped nuts and honey, sprinkled with cinnamon before the oven and sugar crystals after. While the pastry was in the oven, the servant returned with the soft tortilla flat bread, Orangina, and Perrier.

Snama mixed together a bowl of chopped chicken with the melon, some lettuce and the scallions. She moistened the mix with mayonnaise and Dijon, simple salt and pepper for spice, and made wraps from the filling and the bread.

Snama's mind was on Neshe.

It was the dream of him she had just awoken from, and it made her smile. How easy it was to dream, how marvelous the places the mind would go when set free.

Now, in consciousness, she could not possibly arrive in such a flirtatious manner to his office as she had dreamt. And certainly while the sparse touch of food seemed enough in her dream, she knew in reality Neshe would need a more substantial feeding.

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Snama did dress in her navy business suit, with no blouse, only a brassiere and panties of soft pink beneath.

She loved her unusual choice of pink stockings for the office, and respectably lady like but undeniably sexy shoes. The draw would be on the legs, to the hem of skirt, where it was back to business.

The suit is cut to flatter the figure, and yet speaks very confidently of authority. Then, she softens again, her hair half loose, with small fine touches of jewelry and makeup.

It is Snama's face and mannerisms that can pull this combination of sexuality and business together and land on the seriously respectable side.

Her voice is honest and speaks strongly on what she does know, and will listen with interest and an open mind when on a topic she knows little or nothing of.

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The lunch was packed with cloth napkins into her leather portfolio, and she was driven to Neshe's office for 1:00 p.m.

Neshe was most gracious on her arrival, and conservative, almost as if they had not laid naked together for so many of the hours of these last several days.

Snama picked up the beat and they remained at that level of conservative graciousness as he showed her about the facility, explaining the various activities within the different departments, and introducing her along the way to much of his staff.

Once the tour was complete Neshe asked "Shall we go to my office? You did bring a lunch I hope."

"Of course Neshe, I've made us a lunch. Let's go sit in your office and enjoy."

They did proceed to his office and before he closed the door he asked his outer staff for no interruptions over the next hour.

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She unpacked first the humus and vegetable sticks for dipping, opened a bottle of Orangina for each, and they chatted of everything and nothing. Snama loved most of all to ask a question of Neshe that would lead to a lengthy answer. Then she could just gaze into his eyes, listen to the velvet strokes of his words, and watch him get lost in the passion of the subject he spoke of.

But, he caught her at it. "You aren't listening! You haven't heard the last minute of what I said at all."

Snama blushed.

"Neshe" she arose from her chair and took his hand, pulling him to his feet.

"You have me hungry for you. So very hungry." She stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers and kissed his mouth first sweetly, and then, as his mouth responded, deeper, hotter, and hungrier.

His hands began to work on the buttons of her jacket and removing it from her, all the while his lips firmly on her mouth.

He led her like a dancer leads his partner, never missing a step, to the sofa, and pushed her back onto it.

"I am so hungry for you too Jaan" he spoke from a place deep within.

His words were still burning a blush through her as he undid the zip of her skirt and slipped it from her.

There is a point, a point of no return that Snama reaches, and that is the point where she is half stripped. She becomes unleashed, unabashed, and unashamed.

Now in her shoes, stockings and underwear, she felt far more powerful than she had in her suit.

It is an inner power that comes from the simple knowledge that she will be able to bring this businessman to complete distraction. She will take him completely out of his space and time and unto herself....and he will not want to leave.

"Neshe, let's get you out of that shirt and tie."

She undressed him thus.

"Now just stay seated for a moment if you will."

He only nodded and watched her. She stood, and removed her panties, sliding them smoothly over her bottom and then down her legs, and she bent in half to slip them over her shoes and off.

She was left with only her stockings and garter, her bra and her shoes.

Snama pushed Neshe's hands away as he naturally reached out for her.

"No..." she pushed him down onto the sofa and he just moaned softly as she straddled herself above his face.

She was open and steaming above his lips and he inhaled deeply with his mouth, then held her hips and pulled her down onto his lips.

Neshe's breath on her was as heated as the air of her kuss on his face.

His tongue swept her moist sex and sent shivers of delight through her. She stroked her hands through his hair as he ate at her...driving her to complete abandon.

She arched her back and her face turned up as to the sun. She closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the sensation.

The two were united. There was no way to determine where the energy began and ended. It just flowed through them as naturally as their own blood flowed.

At times like this Snama was entranced, lost in the moment, the man.

Neshe had such a mouth, he worked such magic, she held on for as long as possible, to enjoy his kisses, his sucking, his licks, his touch.

Snama was awakened from her trance with a shock when Neshe penetrated her from the back with his fingers as he continued to eat at her sex.

She cried out and pushed down onto his mouth hard.

He responded aggressively, now bringing from her a soft, but desperate repeated cry..."Haan...haan...yes! Neshe...haan!

He was ruthless.

"Haan...yes, my hot lunch?" and more he ate at her, nipping now, his fingers penetrating her backside without mercy.

She was helpless to the command of his mouth and hand, and came in a rush, sighing out heavily in satisfaction. She pulsed over and over on his lips, feeling the rush of her own wetness flowing between her thighs and on his cheeks.

"Oh yes my love" crooned Neshe. "Oh yes."

He kissed her between her legs with a tender kiss of love.

Snama moved, once she had regained her composure, and sat back on Neshe's abdomen. She smiled at him, and removed her brassiere, her breasts needing his attentions.

She leaned forward, placing a nipple to his mouth and he kissed and sucked, and before he had finished, she pulled away and placed the other nipple to his mouth. He sucked it with the same hunger and attention as he had the first.