We have done countless calls together and exchanged multiple emails but, of course, never met in person. You have asked me numerous times to put the notion of seeing one another in the flesh in my back pocket and until now, I’ve always playfully done so.

You’re going to be headed west for a work conference and profess to me that you are dying to see the woman who has gotten you off so gloriously all these years! I’ve never wavered on my stance regarding meeting a caller and you are well aware of this.

You continue to plead and since pleading is not a good look on a man (or anyone for that matter), I eventually cave and agree to make an exception for you. I lay down a couple of basic rules. Rule one: I will be choosing a public place for our meeting. Rule two: under no circumstances will I fuck you.

You are elated and assure me that we can just grab a coffee and then we can split. No touching, no sex and no expectations.

The café I choose has a nice airy vibe and I know it to be relatively quiet in the late afternoon. I decided to wear a fitted white dress that clung perfectly to my firm, round ass. I completed my ensemble with a blazer and a sexy pair of heels.

I arrived first and shortly thereafter, you appeared.

“Hi, Ash,” you say, trying to not to gawk at me.

“Hello,” I replied.

You desperately push back the urge to run your fingers through my silky-smooth hair that is cascading down past my shoulders. You had the look of a man who was thinking “cool is the name of the game and desperados are a turn-off”.
“Look Ash,” you start the conversation. “I know that I can’t fuck you. I can, however, fuck you with my words. And you can fuck me back with yours. Let’s talk about anything and everything sexual. If you are having fun, we go on. If not, we finish our drinks in silence and get the fuck outta here a.s.a.p. Works for you?”

I’m a bit taken aback and offer a capricious smile. And thus our sexual conversation over my iced tea and your latte begins…

You: What’s your favorite erotic book?

Me: The Sexual Life of Catherine M. Have you read it?

You: No. What is it about?

Me: It’s the memoir of Catherine Millet, a French art critic — an unapologetic depiction of her outrageous sexual exploits. She loved group sex and would fuck countless men in one night. It has a staggering number of descriptions of cocks in all their rigid glory! I identify with how shameless she is.

You: Wow!

Me: What’s yours?

You: The Celestial Bed by Irving Wallace.

Me: Hmm…how come?

You: I find the concept of therapeutic sexual surrogates intriguing. I fantasize about myself as a surrogate who helps women sexually. My lifetime goal is to pleasure women.

Me: Interesting. Okay what’s your favorite hot movie?

You: Body Double.

I raise an eyebrow.

You: Hardcore porn looks so mechanical after a while. I’m a lover of lingering subtle sexuality. The part that really gets me hot is when Jake Scully sees Gloria Revelle trying on new panties in the store’s dressing room. Then how he picks up her discarded panties and what he does with them!
Me: Do you like to watch people fucking?
You: I confess I do have voyeuristic tendencies. I wouldn’t mind watching you in action!

Me: (smiling) Yes, I’m sure you would!

You: Which non-sexual parts of your body do you like to have touched the most?

Me: The nape of my neck, the small of my back, my inner thighs, my belly, the inside of my ankles. God, I could go on and on! My body is a minefield of erogenous zones.

You: Groan.

Me: Innocently, what?

You: How I wish I could get blown by those mines! I like to think of myself as an expert in arousing all of those zones.

Me: (Eye roll) Bad luck! I guess we’ll never know (batting my lashes).

You: What color are your underwear?

Me: I don’t wear undergarments when I’m poured into a dress like this. Panty lines are less than enchanting (hardy sexy either)!

You: Do you like your pussy bald, trimmed or au naturel?

Me: My pussy is a work of art and I maintain it as such. I just recently had a Brazilian so there’s only a thin landing strip adorning my velvety fruit cage presently.

You: Holy fuck! How many times have you cum during one sex encounter?

Me: When I am going off, I lose count! Rolling orgasms are divine.

You: Groan! If you had to choose between an older guy, a hot Latino, a white dude that is built and a black guy with a huge cock, who would you choose?

Me: If that’s a fucking hypothetical question, why should I choose just one?

You: Just close your eyes for a minute and think of the most erotic encounter of your life. I want to see the expression on your face.

Me: I close my eyes and pull my dress down to expose my right breast. My hand moves under the table. I intentionally drop my napkin and as you bend to pick it up for me, you see my fingers working my wet pussy. I open my eyes and ask, do you like the view?

You: Let’s just say my cock is hitting the table top.

We continue to tease one another by engaging in our own special brand of verbal sex banter, (just as we so often do when we are on the phone together).
I start twisting my hair in an attempt to maintain sexual composure. After a while my body begins to tense as I quietly allow the moans of ecstasy to escape my lips. I squirm in my chair while my flesh becomes flooded with chills. I take one final deep breath as my legs clench and my rolling orgasms ensue right there, in public, sitting across a small bistro table from you!

You then shift positions so that the head of your dick is butting against the metal rod on the underside of table top. You press your cock harder on the rod, looking directly at my face. You then grab onto the edges of the tablecloth and soon I feel the mammoth burst of your warm, thick cream running down my legs!

As you regain your breath, you manage to say, “Ashlee, thank you. I will never forget this coffee date.”

“You’re very welcome, babe. I loved our sex laden coffee date.

Allow me to gift you with one last visual to remember me by. I reached down and brought a dollop of your cum to my mouth. I then slowly ran it across my moist lips before sucking my fingers dry.

You appeared absolutely gob smacked as I leaned into you and said, “The next time you’re in town, I’d love to cum here again”.

I just smiled and sauntered away.

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