Vita via Miccolo (Life according to Michael) - LdyJessika®
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26.  Mirror, Mirror, On The Floor

 Michael was always looking muscular and fit.  I spent most of my time always trying to look fit, and not quite succeeding.  Not that it seemed to bother Michael that I was just a tad chunky in the thighs and butt, but then, nothing ever seemed to bother Michael.  Or, if it did, he just took care of it, until it didn’t.

 On this particular week in February, we’d returned from meetings in Georgia and Florida.  It was in Florida that it seemed everything went wrong, when I was trying to make things right.

 At this particular meeting one of the women treated me like I was his pet dog – like I was meaningless being there, and worse that I didn’t matter to him.  I was insecure and after two days of this woman being passive-aggressive I wasn’t sure I was with him because he felt I was an asset, or he felt obligated to keep me around.

 It was on the last day of the negotiations, when the horrible incident happened.  This one woman obviously attracted to Michael, kept picking on me, to get Michael’s attention.  No matter what I did she would say that she was better at it.  Finally, at the last meeting all hell broke loose.  This woman, was sitting next to me and constantly flirting with Michael.  She started saying things to him, as if I wasn’t there.  She made it quite obvious that she'd prefer for me not to be at the meeting,  so that she could be with him.  She had said very veiled things to Michael, such as, he must have young assistants back in NY since he was so good-looking.   She acted like I was some old comfort blanket just hanging around, and that she was some new brand of blanket he surely must need.

 It was then that the proverbial shit hit the fan.   Michael specifically told me to hand him a folder - I always carry out Michael's wishes.   I went to reach for the file and this woman grabbed me by the arm, trying to get the folder to hand to him.  I said, "He told me to hand him the folder."  She didn't let go, but grabbed my arm harder to get the folder.  I got scared and said,  “Let go of my arm…LET GO OF MY ARM!”  I finally said it so loud she must have let go, but I was so upset by then that I looked at everyone and said, “This is SO out of hand!” and I walked out.  All I wanted to do was get back to the hotel room, and think about what just went wrong.  I just needed some time to be alone and think why she had kept saying things to  make me feel insecure.  Suddenly, Michael caught up with me and started reprimanding me, as we walked.  He never said she shouldn’t have grabbed me on my arm, and didn't even ask if my arm was okay.  He totally missed the damn part where this woman had a gorilla grip on my arm.  Now, it was all about how I embarrassed him.  It suddenly was all going wrong and then he told me that if I couldn't handle things that I couldn’t come to meetings, with him.  I tried to explain that I got scared when she grabbed me by the arm.  He acted like her gorilla grab on my arm, was my fault.   I kept saying she shouldn't have grabbed me and that he should have said something to make her let me go.   But, I did the more violent move by getting up -  in life the one who does the more noticeable move is always wrong.   I had broken a rule that Michael had given me.

 This incident had been bothering me, since we came back to Manhattan, and that Friday in the office I finally had to ask him.  “Michael, sometimes I think that you feel any woman that acts like she cares about you, when she doesn’t, you feel is credible.  As if, at these meetings,  I’m just there as a divergence, rather then for credibility.”

 Michael laughed, “A divergence?  Credibility? Where are you getting these words, you’ve never used them before and it’s my business why you’re there.”

 I immediately got upset, “OH, so you don’t think that I can use words other then the usual yes Michael, whatever you say Michael?  Forget it Michael I’m going to file, which at least makes sense to me.  All you ever do is evade situations and yell at me.  You should deal with the real issues, being caused by someone else and protect me.”  I knew as soon as I said the words "protect me" I was very wrong.  Michael may have his faults but he always cared and protected me.

 Walking away from him I went to the file room…I slammed the door.  What I just did didn’t make any sense, since the file room was a special room in Michael’s office.  All I had accomplished was walking into his office and then into his  file room, within his office.  I heard the loud knock on the door.

 “Jessy, you’ve locked yourself in a room - in my private office.  I don’t suppose you’d consider opening this door, so I don’t have to break the mother-fucking door down, do you?”

 I could hear his tone was one level below anger, so I walked over to the door.  I knew he could hear my voice shaking, as I’d been about to burst into tears, “Well, I guess since it’s your door I should open it, but don’t be mean spirited and be nice, okay?”

 I heard him chuckle, “Yes, Sparky, open the door – now.  I need to speak with you about the meeting in Florida.”

 Opening the door I went back to filing and quietly said, “Her grip was like a gorilla and it scared me.  I yelled three times for her to let go of my arm and then something happened and I was back in time.  I suddenly was yelling let go of my arm, at that person a long time ago, when I was attacked and he wouldn’t let go of my arm, remember?  You heard me yelling and came and saved me, before anything bad happened to me.” 

 The room was quiet and Michael didn’t answer.  Then he only said, “Yes, Sparky, I remember everything that day that I met you.  I took care of it and he’s no longer able to hurt anyone, so forget that and the woman in Florida.  We’re back in New York – back in our own world, got it?” 

 I kept filing and didn’t answer, but opened the lower drawer, “Michael, why is this big mirror in the drawer?”  Lifting it out I saw that there was another matching one just as wide and tall as the first.  “I give up Michael, what do you do?  Work out in here and watch yourself?”

 I caught the look in his eye and then his grin made me nervous, “Uh, maybe I should just put the mirrors back and pretend I didn’t see them?”

 I heard the door close and lock but I kept filing.  Watching Michael I saw him pulling a chair from the corner of the room in front of one of the cabinets.  Then he placed one mirror in front of the chair leaning it against the cabinet.  I was getting nervous and my imagination was going all kinds of places when I whispered, “Uh, Michael, I’m sorry.  I don’t want you to be upset with me, okay?  I don’t want to know about the mirrors, I never even saw mirrors.”

 Grinning his wonderful wicked smile he pulled off his shoes and socks.  Then he slid off his pants and underwear.  Sitting back down he pulled open another file draw and took out a bottle of lubricant.  Then he adjusted a third mirror, so that it was on the floor, and he could see the reflection under his cock.  “Jessy, I have an idea.  Stop filing.”

 I looked at him and thought to myself, stop filing?  My hand with a folder was still stuck in the air over a drawer, as if it was glued in air.  Quickly putting down the folder I walked over to him.  I nearly fell backwards when quickly got up and kneeled down, sitting back on his legs.  His cock was quite hard and I wasn’t sure what I was suppose to do until he quietly said, “Jessika, sit in front of me and pull off your blouse.  Watch in the mirrors and jerk me off, got it?”   The mirror was placed on the floor where he was actually sitting on it and I assumed I was suppose to sit on it. 

 Walking closer to him I sat down with my legs on either side of his legs.  Then as he requested I slid my blouse off, then removed my bra.  I felt his fingers immediately playing with my nipples – I suddenly wanted to do this for Michael and reached for his cock. Gazing down in the mirror I could clearly see both of us.   It was rather erotic and sensual.

 Pouring the lubricant over his cock, I loved how it slowly dripped down over it and then down to his balls.  Sliding my fingers up and down his hard shaft…slowly…harder, then softer, I watched his expressions.  I asked if it was too fast.  He smiled, “Sparky, it feels good fast, it can’t be too fast, or too hard.”   Smiling at him, I did it even faster.  Sliding my hand up and down his cock from the very tip to the base, where I’d squeeze tighter. 

 Finally I looked down at the mirror and at my hand jerking him.  I could see his balls reflected in the mirror and reaching under them with my other hand I began massaging and squeezing them.  I loved to squeeze them, until I’d hear him groaning, without him meaning to make any sound.  I didn’t care if it was a groan of pleasure or pain, I felt good when I was squeezing and pulling on them.  I knew he liked me to squeeze hard, and at other times I’d take my scarf and tie it around his balls making them swell.  I liked doing this to Michael and now I liked watching it all in the mirror.

 He squeezed his legs tighter together, creating more pressure on his balls.  My fingers playing between them ran the length of his tight flesh from his asshole to his balls.  I could feel my pussy getting wetter and needed to do more of it.  Leaning over I licked the head of his cock…tasting a drop of pre-cum forming so beautifully on the tip.  Noticing that my gaze into the mirror seemed hazy, I realized endorphins of pleasure were taking over my senses.  I needed him…only him.  Needing to make him cum and more I needed to make him want me.  I gazed at his reflection when he leaned his head back while his body muscles began to tense.  Sitting like he was in front of me I could see every defined muscle in his body standing out, as if he were lifting weights. 

 “Sparky, watch in the mirror, got it?”

 I whispered, “Yeah, Michael, I got it, watch you cum, while I jerk your cock, I got it.”

 I loved this time when he’d relax and forget the world.  When he would care only about what was going on, at this moment, with me.  When he would want nothing more then me doing what I was doing to him.  I could feel myself getting wetter while sucking the swollen head of him…my hand massaging and playing under his balls - his legs and knees clamped tightly together.  I could feel the change in the atmosphere around us as our world became one of needing only each other.

 Feeling his balls tighten in my palm I squeezed them harder…pulling on them…squeezing them…crushing them, until he groaned that final need.  Staring into the floor mirror our eyes met, while we watched me playing and squeezing his thick cock and balls.  Then I heard his groan and felt his cock start to pulse in my hand.  His thick cock started streaming cum, with each slow squeeze of my hand around it.  Over and over he pumped cum over my hand circling his cock until he was too sensitive to my touch.

 Slowing my hand motion, since he was sensitive after cumming, I gently massaged his balls and cock.  We sat like that a few moments, while we both got our senses back. 

 Our eyes again met in the floor mirror…he smiled, “Mirror, mirror on the floor whose the fairest one of all?”

 I smiled, “Meeeeeee?”

 “Yeah, Sparky, you – now get your ass dressed – forget the woman in Florida, she ain’t with us in New York.  Let’s go to lunch - got it?”  “And, Sparky, file the mirrors in the bottom file drawer – got it?”

 I smiled at him – he was such a complicated man – but I knew I’d always love this man, unconditionally.  “Yes, Michael, Filed in the bottom drawer, and I don’t give a damn about the woman in Florida, as long as you want me with you.”