Jessica London is Reborn

* * * * *

This is a work of fiction involving some themes that make some people uncomfortable. The original story, Jessica in Red, is a cuckold story involving a man giving up his wife to a dominant man. The predecessor to this story, My Name is Jessica London, told that same story from the wife's perspective. This story continues chronicling the day from the wife's perspective. If any of this bothers you, including the themes or the switching of perspectives, you are encouraged to move on.

For those that do read it, I truly hope you enjoy it. It was great fun to write.

* * * * *

My time at the spa is incredible. They are pampering me, making me look seriously good, and giving me time to reflect. The only hard part is am horny as all hell thinking about the evening ahead of me. I am going to be intimate with Patrick and while 24 hours ago this idea wasn't on anyone's radar, a new reality has set in and I am going to step out of my marriage and let another man pleasure me. I have my husband's blessing, although that is complicated as I am approaching this day as my former self, Ms. Jessica London, not my current self, Mrs. Jim Bowers.

I have cut Jim out of my life entirely for the day. I even removed him from my phone and blocked his number. For our three years together, Jim has been, by most measures, a good husband. But he hasn't been who I need. He is cautious, careful, steady, and stable. Many would welcome these traits. I have at times appreciated these things, but these traits have also followed us into the bedroom, and especially there, these are not the traits I need. I knew this, I felt this, but I was married and that was life.

But then yesterday I met Patrick, my husband's boss, and the most compelling man I have ever encountered. He is everything my husband isn't, and he is gorgeous too. But mostly, he sees me and the struggles I have related to my husband. He sees them without judgement and he likely sees them better than me. His initial presence made my heart beat faster, yet his eyes and smile simultaneously calmed and disarmed me. I opened up to him in ways I haven't with anyone else, and I did this about five minutes after I met him.

He used the power my husband gives him at work to remove my husband from today's equation and made his move. In all likelihood, that move is going to end with me in his bed. But if this were only about sex, regardless of how good, I doubt I would be going forward with him. He has spoken to me about who I am, and who I want to be, and he is offering a way to have a real conversation with myself about that. He recognized my sheltered past and helped me realize that my past doesn't have to define me for the future. How he penetrated through the BS and connected with me in such a short time leaves me in awe, but what really captures me is that it comes from a place that all evidence indicates is genuine and authentic.

Don't get me wrong, he lusts for me, and I for him, and if the evening goes as I hope, I am going to get fucked hard tonight and I will love it. My husband is always willing to make love to me, but has never figured out that I also need to be fucked. I need to experience bold and decisive. I need to experience raw sexual passion. I need to be taken in ways my husband never has. Why? Because I have never experienced these things and how can I know who I am or who I want to be, when my experience is so limited and one-sided. I might have just applied that equation to sex, but it really applies to my entire life. I don't know, what I don't know, and that has become a condition I can no longer accept.

Patrick has suggested that today I return to being who I was before I married young and experience today as a fresh start. He is asking me to try on a different life, and a different man, and see how that feels. It is a suggestion that I am embracing. I married my husband young and didn't really know who I was, or what life could be, and thus today I am taking a test drive of what might have been. It is certainly not the traditional way to approach this problem, but somehow with Patrick involved, it makes sense.

Tomorrow I might just say, that was fun, that was interesting, but I will take my life, thank you. Or I might decide that my future life needs to be a brand new journey. I am self-aware of these things for the first time in my life. Somehow, in under 24 hours, Patrick has helped me move from the passenger seat to the driver's seat of my own life. Patrick might be at the center of this, but it is really about me. He noticed me because I looked damn good in a red top, and red is his favorite color, but almost immediately he saw past the red and tried to see me and help me see me.

The cynical would say that he is just good at getting me in bed, and perhaps that is true, although I really think he is being sincere. And given he is six-foot, two inches of physical perfection with eyes that look into your soul, if it ends up just being a night of good sex, there are worse ways to spend an evening! Plus, my husband has a weird desire related to me and other men, and he is absolutely enamored with Patrick, so I have the green light. Yes, my husband wants me to have sex with his boss. In fact, he seems to want this the most. Can you say weird fetish? And amazingly enough, that is a side show for me. It is weird and might be what ends us regardless of my experience with Patrick, but it is not the focal point of this experience. It simply provides the green light for using something considered wrong, sex with another man, as a way to explore myself.

And if tomorrow morning I sense that Patrick was just in it for a good one night stand, I will thank him and move on. He has me thinking and reflecting about things that need thought and reflection, so whether his approach is a clever ruse, or authentic, he will have helped me and for that I will thankful. And did I mention he is gorgeous! :) And that I am at a spa having my hair and nails done after having a massage and rock treatment, which was weird and wonderful. The limo Patrick arranged picked me up and will take me to meet him for dinner at one of town's best restaurants, and I will be wearing expensive clothes he bought for me. And this is after he sent me a box of 60 roses. So, screw it, if I am simply prostituting myself for Patrick's benefit, I will take the equation gladly.

When I arrived and they laid out the regiment I was to receive, I sent Patrick a text thanking him for the gift. I included three heart emojis. It was an accurate reflection as I felt happy and wanted and special. He replied that receiving heart emojis from me was the highlight of his day, and once again he is either the best actor ever, or his sentiment was authentic. I responded playfully.

I hope we create better highlights eventually. ;)

I guarantee it. On that note, you fully understand that if you let me lead, that path goes from dinner to my house, to my bed, to the shower, back to the bed, to the easy chair, to the hot tub, back to the bed, perhaps the floor, and so on. If you just want to be a passenger tonight, I will take you on an amazing ride! But, if you want to help plan the itinerary, I am all ears? What does an evening you will never forget walk and talk like for Ms. Jessica London?

And there it was, the reason he had me for the night. He planned to fuck me, in fact it sounded like he planned to fuck me many times in many ways, and he isn't shying away from expressing that. At the same time, he has the confidence to ask me what I want. And not just what I want, but what Jessica London, wants. Ms. London used to be me, and he is helping try to find her again and let her make some decisions for a change. What man has that combined level of boldness, confidence, and empathy? Luckily for me, the man I plan to fuck tonight.

I thought for a while. In wonderful Patrick fashion, my phone remained quiet as he patiently waited. What did I want? The thought of just letting him lead didn't sound all bad. I wanted to be taken. The thought of a hot tub sounded pretty damn good, for some reason hot tubs make me horny! And without a doubt, the shower was going to happen. I could never get my husband to fuck me in the shower. No rational reason I desired it so much, but why does sex have to be rationale. I started there.

The shower. You are going to fuck me in the shower. Yes. Yes, you are!

Did I strike a chord on that one Ms. London? :)

I am 26 years old and no man has ever fucked me in the shower. That is just wrong!

Criminal! Did I tell you I have a big, rain head, walk in shower with your name on it!

Glass wall?

8 ft. long

Pin me against it. I want to feel my tits squash against the steamy glass as you enter me from behind. I want to feel taken by a strong man

You will be taken by a strong man

I hope your neighbors' houses aren't too close by because I am likely to scream at you to fuck me!

I live on 10 acres.

We still might want to close the windows. I want to have loud boisterous orgasms.

Why Jessica London, you seem to have a passionate side ready to come out!

That's the problem, I have lots of sides that are ready to come out. They have been boxed up for too long!

OK, loud, boisterous, pin you to the glass wall and make you cum, shower fuck. If I have to I can make that happen. :)

You have to.

How do you feel about a slow, sweaty, missionary style, look into each other's souls as we slowly reach a body quaking climax while never breaking eye contact, love making session? Does that make your list?

To be honest, I have some mixed experience with that

Please share

Can you fall in love with a man you really don't know, while texting about the different ways to fuck each other? Because those two words threaten just that. You asking me to share is a dangerous move on your part if all you wanted to do was get in pants. The girl you hit on last night, the one with the smoking hot body, she just might get all emotional on you if you keep behaving so awesomely. Jessica London has a serious weak spot for a man who truly wants to hear my story.

Danger is my middle name! And I thought you were wearing a dress tonight! ;) Plus, if I can have the same thought because you texted me three heart emojis, you can swoon over me asking the question any decent human should ask! And I still want to hear the answer.

How do I put this? A man I once was with, his mindset towards sex was always in the "making love" mode, which was sweet, but let's just say his equipment was undersized, his technique poor, and his longevity nonexistent. I rarely got to experience the climax side of love making. I think it was good for him, but I know it was unfulfilling for me.

That sounds awful. On behalf of men everywhere, I apologize. But how does it sound if the man you will be with tonight is large, skilled, and can go all night. And what if that man promises that he will not finish before you? What if that man might have used the same term, but promises a whole different experience?

How large? Asking for a friend. ;)

All of that, and that is your only question? LOL

Jessica London has heard that size matters, so, how large?

I would classify myself as top 10%.

If that is the case, I might be able to suffer through it!

Jessica, I will make love to you the way it is supposed to be done, that I can promise you

That is my problem. I really don't know. You said it yourself, I have had a sheltered life

Then we will explore and have fun and try things. Oh, and we will fuck, and make love, and sleep together, and have sex, and any other variation of intercourse that you would like to try! And to sound as corny as I possibly can, I plan to blow the roof off your shelter!

Great, first day of my new life, and you're going make me homeless!

Damn, smoking hot body, desire for great sex, and you make me laugh. I am so glad you wore red yesterday

Me too. For you, I will wear red every day

You can wear any color you want, and it will look great.

Remember you said that. :)

Patrick had sent me a beautiful red dress, and sexy red lingerie. But in a conspiracy involving the wonderful staff at the spa, I switched the dress to a simple black thing. The "it" dress all woman want to arrive in. I will still be red underneath, so when he helps the black dress drop to the floor, I will be the red-clad goddess he created. Plus we picked out a hot red lipstick that will go with the black dress and the shoes he sent, but the red dress didn't make the cut.

I didn't want him to ask me what I meant, so I quickly pivoted the conversation.

Subject change: I am on the pill. Just so you know.

Well, so much for my dreams of fatherhood. LOL. Are you going to be OK if I leave the trojans in the drawer? I promise I will only give you my cum, nothing else. (possibly the most awkward thing I have ever texted!)

I trust you. Why? No rational reason, but I do. Consider this my permission to fuck me au natural.

Gladly! And thanks for getting out in front of that conversation. Jessica London is wise for her years!

Are you calling me old?

I am calling you hot, and sexy, and smart, and bold, and decisive, and amazing.

OK, I can let you slide than!

Whew! How about I let you get back to whatever pampering the spa people are providing, and we agree to meet at the restaurant with open minds, sexy bodies, and the desire to have an amazing evening. No pressure. We just let the evening unfold and shape it and enjoy it in real time. Deal?

They do want to start on my hair, so now is a good time to end our texting. When I arrive, I am going to get out of that limo and walk into your arms and thus you, Patrick Conley, are responsible for the quality of Jessica London's first real night out. So, you better feel the pressure and you better make it special.

To add to my growing list of corny, pun-ny things I have said: special is my specialty! You walking into my arms is a true dream come true for me, I won't screw it up!

You have no idea how good that sounds. I am being told they need to start my hair so that I can look outrageously fabulous at dinner, and then we can mess it up together afterwards! Thank you, Patrick. Jessica London thanks you.

Jessica London is welcome. See you in 90 minutes!

Thankfully the 90 minutes went fast. I did send one text to Patrick. It was a photo my attendant took for me with me wearing the lingerie set Patrick had sent. I didn't intend to send it to him when I asked her to take it, I just wanted a photo. The lingerie was sexy, and I made it look good, and I wanted that photo. But when she showed me the photo, I realized that it was more than a photo of the sexy clothes I now had on. I looked fully at it, and realized it didn't even look like me, or at least the old me. Between the hair, the make-up, the attire, my new level of confidence, and the look in my eye, I was not looking at Jessica Bowers, I was looking at Jessica London. It was the new me.

I sent the photo to Patrick with a sincere attached message: I don't recognize me. Thank you for that.

It was his turn to make me smile. He replied with three heart emojis.

I finished getting dressed, put on the shoes, and was presented with one final gift from Patrick. The attendant held out a clutch purse to me. It was red of course. It was also unfathomably beautiful; simple, elegant, sexy, all at once.

"Everything you need is inside." The attendant said with a smile. "He asked us to trade it for your phone. He said you should trust him."

I had a moment of rebellion, this is a woman's phone we are talking about, but then I just smiled and handed the attendant my phone. I did trust Patrick. And I understood the request. Even though I had purged a certain person from it, my phone was still the last thing that tied me to my old life. Patrick really had thought of everything.

I looked inside. There was a stick of the lipstick I was wearing, and a compact to help me touch up the makeup. And a brand new iPhone. I laughed and pulled it out. Did I mention he had thought of everything? There was a sticky note on it. It read, "Jessica London's new phone."

I powered it on, and the home screen had just five things on it. It had the Orangetheory app. He understood that it was important to me. It had a speed dial entry for him. Another for Kimberly, my friend from the studio. Damn he was good. And it had one for my mom. I almost started to cry and then realized I would ruin the seriously awesome makeup job I had just received. I pushed the tears back. There was one more icon labeled, "read me please." I clicked on that one.

A message came up.

"Jessica, I came over to you yesterday because you are beautiful. I made your husband come to work so I could take my shot with you. I guess that makes me shallow and manipulative. But a funny thing happened on the way to trying to get you to sleep with me. I found out that there is an amazing woman who needs some help finding herself, and being able to offer my help is a privilege and the most special part of this. I can't lie, I still want us to end up in bed, even more so now that I truly understand how holistically beautiful you are, but if all I get out of this day is a peck on the cheek and the knowledge that I somehow made a difference for you, then I will still be the luckiest man alive. Thank you for agreeing to my crazy plan Jessica London, I look forward to meeting you and sharing an amazing evening. Now get your hot self into the limo, I am waiting for you. The world is waiting for you. You are going to take us all by storm!"