0 comments/ 30806 views/ 2 favorites Wine By: WFEATHER "I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered, barely able to look up from my feet. "Ditto," I agreed. After a long awkward moment, she finally crossed the threshold, and I closed the door behind her, making sure it was locked. Even though the apartment complex was incredibly safe and all the neighbors were very respectful of everyone's privacy, this situation, this night, was one in which I truly wished I owned a house in a secluded location: perhaps high in the mountains, or on a private island, or even a lone house surrounded by miles of Midwestern farmland. "Do you want a drink perhaps?" I offered, hoping the nervousness was not evident in my voice. "I'd better not," she said, shaking her head as she finally looked deep into my eyes. "I'm driving tonight." "Good point, although you could stay here for the night if you wanted." She shrugged. "We'll see." "I'll leave the wine corked then." Finally, she smiled. "From your profile online, I'm not surprised you have wine here." It was my turn to shrug. "I don't care for beer, and wine reminds me of dinners in Europe when I was there as an exchange student and in college." She seemed to be appraising me as I spoke. I could feel her eyes drinking me in, noting my all-black attire. If she could see through my slacks, she would know that I was even wearing black underwear. "You have good arms," she complimented me, which took me quite by surprise, for I had never truly exercised, and other than when I moved to the apartment some three months earlier, I had not lifted anything even remotely heavy in several years. "You also have large hands." I shrugged. "The hands are theoretically due to playing piano for over twenty years." She reached for a hand, and pressed her palm to mine. To say that my hand dwarfed hers would be a major understatement. That was when, even though she had been standing directly before me, I realized just how much of a size difference there was between us. While I was not obese by any means, I had definitely put on a little weight, although my height fortunately helped to balance out my bad eating habits. In contrast, she had a rather small frame, with a very short height which truly befitted her. Her profile had stated that she looked "like a lolita fantasy" but was "very much an adult." She was indeed very much an adult, especially given the reason she had come to my apartment. "Let's just do it," she pleaded with a whisper. "I need this. The nervousness is really starting to get to me." "Are you sure?" I countered. "It may be better for you to relax first, unwind." "Please, just do it. Please..." I put my hands upon her shoulders, noting just how much I had to reach downward to do so. I could so easily overpower her, and even her best resistance would barely counter my efforts. She knew from my profile that I enjoyed dominating young women, and she had admitted that eventually that may be something she and I could explore. ...but at this moment, something else was at hand. Slowly, I allowed a hand to glide from her shoulder along the upward curve to the side of her neck. She was breathing faster than average, her eyes riveted with mine. For a moment, I was nearly drowning in the twin seas of blue, but the feel of her heat and her pulse beneath my fingertips thrust me back into the present reality. I stepped forward, and she instinctively stepped backward. This repeated twice before she found her back against a wall, and her sudden intake of air was thrilling in combination with the widening of her expressive eyes. She was definitely rather nervous, but I could also see the flash of wonder within her. Slowly, carefully, I slid my thumb across the front of her neck. She was still breathing a little quicker than what would be considered normal, and her hands had risen to press gently against my chest in a silent request to please wait a moment. "Whenever you're ready," I reassured her, slipping my other hand to the side of her chest, feeling the material of her black bra underneath her red fishnet top. A soft sound, almost like the mew of a kitten, passed between her painted lips. From previous experience, I recognized that sound, and slid my hand from her neck back to her shoulder as I leaned forward and downward... Our lips met -- tentatively, like a butterfly alighting upon a flower for the very first time. In a heartbeat, she seemed to finally relax, pressing into the kiss as her hands began to roam across my chest and sides. She whimpered into my mouth, and I took her breath gratefully. ...then gently squeezed her dainty neck. The breath which she gave me was rather short and accompanied with a small squeak. Her hands stiffened, her entire body going rigid with renewed tension and nervousness. I lifted my head away and looked into her eyes. The pair of blue seas had become troubled, and I was only exerting just a little pressure with a single hand. She could still breathe, just not as well as she would under normal circumstances. Then again, she was in my apartment. This was not a normal circumstance. "It's okay," I reassured her. "I'm not going to harm you in any way." I maintained the easy pressure around her neck as my free hand moved onto a breast. Her inhale was sudden, quick, nervous. But as I squeezed her breast, she seemed to relax a little, although still breathing faster than normal. Myself, I was growing. Finally being able to have her in my presence, trusting me enough to give her this experience despite having met in person just minutes earlier, allowing me to touch her intimately, making herself so potentially vulnerable for me, it was a heady and arousing experience. When she arched her back to press more of her breast into my hand, I knew that I could do more, go further, but I maintained the same pressure on her neck for several minutes, holding steady and feeling her occasionally swallow her saliva, losing myself in her expressive blue eyes as I fondled her chest. At last, she closed her eyes, slowly, still breathing fairly well. She was clearly lost in the sensations, in the slightly-restricted breathing and the gentle manipulation of her breasts. I wished that she was naked or at least topless, so that I could toy with her nipples as well, gently rolling one between my fingers or carefully brushing one with a fingernail or pinching one harder and harder until she squealed from the pain... I purposely waited until she had exhaled, then tightened my grip upon her neck. Instantly, her eyes snapped open, filled with an expression of fear. Her fingers dug into my sides, and I was thankful that I was wearing an undershirt for just a little more protection from her long fingernails. I smirked briefly, proud of myself for having surprised her, but that lessened quickly into a smile to try to calm her, an attempt to reassure her. The breaths which passed through her constricted throat were rapid, shallow, needy. She trembled, trying to restrain the instinct to fight me. This is what she had come to experience, and her struggle to hold back her primal need and succumb to my will was beautiful to witness in her wide eyes. Still I caressed her chest, alternating from breast to breast, giving each a gentle squeeze. A soft gasp arose from her as I squeezed a breast with a little more force, and her eyes wavered for an instant. Her hands moved to grasp my wrist, although whether to try to push my hand away or hold it in place seemed to be undetermined. Despite myself, I lessened the pressure just slightly as I bent down to kiss her forehead. Feeling the slight puff of exhalation upon my neck and the small gasping sound which accompanied it further solidified my arousal, and she was not even bound and naked. ...yet. That would almost certainly be for another time, when I did not need to work in the morning, when she did not need to think about her college studies. I kissed her lips and took another slight exhalation from her before breathing it back into her lungs. We traded the same breath several times before, at last, I eased and then released the pressure upon her neck and stood erect again, pulling her to me and enveloping her with my protective arms as she sagged against me, her arms sliding around me as she relished the ability to breathe properly once again. For a long time, I simply held her, occasionally caressing her or kissing the top of her head. Eventually, my erection subsided. And soon, she looked up at me, her eyes only partially open, the blue seas no longer turbulent, but glowing with triumph. "Thank you," she finally whispered. "Glad to be of service," I acknowledged with a smile, "and to show someone the ropes." She giggled softly. "Maybe next time. However..." "Yes?" I prompted. "How about some wine?" Wine *Author's Note: Any and all person's engaging in any sexual activities is at least eighteen years of age. The small, private room had soft, recessed lighting in the ceiling; the majority of the light came from the small window that looked out onto the garden. There were four chairs around the small table, but only two chairs were being used. The waiter offered the cork to the large, burly man. The man sniffed the cork, held the aroma in his nostrils for a moment, then nodded his approval and the waiter poured a small amount of the burgundy into the glass. The man swirled the wine, sniffed the aroma, letting a small smile appear on his lips, and then took a small sip of the rich colored wine. "Perfection," he complimented and the waiter happily filled both glasses. The young brunette had watched all of the movements with open-mouthed admiration. Now that her glass was full, she mimicked his motions. To her, the wine tasted bitter, to her it even had a slightly dirty taste to it, but she wanted him to approve of her, so she smiled. "A rich, earthy flavor, don't you think?" he asked in his deep voice and she agreed. The waiter reappeared with a tray and quickly put hard bread and several small dishes with various cheeses in front of the man. A small platter was placed in front of the young woman. The man cut a hunk of the bread and broke the piece in two. He then put a small amount of cheese onto each piece. "Here," he smiled. "Take a bite, then takes a sip of the wine. See how the flavors marry one another, mingle in your mouth; oh my dear, I do envy you your youth and innocence!" She bit into the bread and almost gagged. To her, the cheese tasted putrid. She quickly took a sip of the wine. The wine did little to erase the rank flavor of the cheese, but she tried her best to keep her face passive. "And now," the man said and offered her the other piece of bread. "Ah, yes, yes, much better," the girl agreed, almost enjoying the milder, smoky flavor of the cheese. "And see how the smokiness of the provolone melds with the wine?" the man prodded. "Mm, hmm," the girl agreed and drained her glass. He refilled her glass, and then offered her another two samples of the cheese. "I'm not supposed to be drinking," she leaned close to him and whispered. "Oh?" he questioned, his heavy eyebrow lifted. "I'm only nineteen," she giggled and took another sip of her wine. "Look," he smiled and showed her the bottle they were drinking from. She looked at where his thumbnail was indicating and laughed a delighted giggle. "This wine, too, is only nineteen years old," he smiled. "So, my dear, sweet girl, it is just and fitting that you would be here today, enjoying this light meal with me, enjoying this wine, yes?" "Yes," she agreed and tried another sampling of the cheese. The waiter served the consommé in his silent, efficient manner and cleared away the remnants of their bread and cheese. "Oh, this is so good!" the girl enthused as she slurped at the broth. "Yes, yes it is," the man concurred and again refilled her glass. "Here," he husked when she finished her coup. He dipped his thumb into his glass of wine and traced her full lips with his thumb, painting her lips. He then leaned forward and kissed her lightly. She sat, immobile; the wine had lowered her inhibitions, had relaxed her giddiness. But she was still in awe of this man, his wealth and power intimidated her. His raw sexuality coupled with his sophistication unnerved her. "Mmm, "he moaned appreciatively and again painted her lips with a wet thumb, then sucked the rich wine from her lips. "This, I think, will be the way I shall enjoy my wine from now on," he husked to her. "I shall drink from you, my dear, sweet girl." "Oh," she moaned deep in her throat. She ignored the waiter as he placed small plates of thinly sliced beef, ham, and turkey, as well as thinly sliced vegetables in front of the pair. The waiter cleared the bowls away, seeming not to notice as the large man unbuttoned the girl's blouse. "Or, perhaps I would be better served to drink my wine..." he said and traced a wet tongue along her neck. "From this delicious throat?" "Oh," she moaned, her small hands pressing his head to her throat. She trembled under his ministrations; what he was doing to her flesh felt so naughty, so elicit and yet so pleasurable. "Ah, what am I saying?" he asked and she felt cool air on her breasts. She had not even noticed that he had completely unbuttoned her blouse, but he had, and he had parted the fabric to expose her two large breasts. "No, no, no!" he exclaimed. "This, this is where I shall drink my wine from!" He dipped his large meaty thumb fully into his glass of wine and rubbed his thumb all over the right breast, her large nipple and outward until his thumb was dry. She squelched the scream as his hungry mouth devoured her right nipple. She groaned and shivered as his meaty tongue slobbered at her flesh He did not pull his mouth from her large breast as he reached almost completely behind himself and dipped his thumb into his glass of wine and then presented his thumb to her gasping mouth. Greedily, she sucked his thumb, sucked the rich, earthy wine from his thumb and moaned in disappointment when he pulled his thumb from her sucking mouth. Again, he wet his thumb and painted her other breast with the rich, dark liquid. She sucked in great lungfuls of air, eyes wide with disbelief. His left hand gently squeezed her breast, and then his fingers gently tweaked and tugged her hard nipple. His mouth nibbled and sucked at her left breast, his tongue pressed insistently at her dark nipple. "Perfection," he murmured, then took a deep sip of his wine. He filled his glass again, and then filled his mouth with the dark liquid. He motioned her closer, and then pressed his large mouth to hers. She gasped and shuddered when his lips opened and he forced wine into her mouth. "Such a rich, earthy bouquet, my love," he whispered to her and she nodded, unable to speak. She moved to cover her nakedness but he stilled her hands. She felt so naughty, so coarse, yet she did as he wished and did not cover her naked breasts, her slightly plump belly, as they nibbled on their meats and vegetables. "I must, I must, I cannot bear not knowing," he cried out as the last of his meat had been swallowed and hoisted her to her feet. She wanted to cry out to him to please stop, but did not as he gave a hearty tug and her skirt fell to the floor in a heap at her feet. "Ah, you naughty, naughty girl," he chuckled as her profuse thatch of hair came into view. He clutched her to him and covered her mouth with his. She reveled in the feeling of his strong, powerful arms and pressed herself tightly to him. She could feel the rich silk of his suit against her breasts and could also feel his large, heavy belt buckle pressed against her plump belly. She shuddered as she could feel his erection as it strained to free itself from his silk trousers. "Here," he moaned and shoved the platters aside. She sucked in her breath as he pushed her backward, laying her on the table. "Oh my darling, darling girl, you are a thing of beauty indeed," he declared as he picked up his glass of wine. She could not suppress the squeal as she felt the wine slowly dribble onto her pubic mound. "Mmm, truly the nectar of the gods!" he declared as he sucked the alcohol from her buck hair. "Oh!" she sighed as she felt the wine insinuate itself into her cleft. He followed the trickle of wine with his tongue and she gasped and shuddered as his tongue pressed into her inner folds. She sighed in disappointment as he set his wine glass down on the table. Her disappointment was short lived as he then used his powerful arms to pull her crotch closer to the edge of the table. He sat in his chair and pulled her pudgy thighs up and over his broad shoulders. She whimpered, trying hard not to shriek, as his hot breath blew on her inner folds. She reached down and pressed his large head to her crotch as she felt his tongue rasped through her coarse hair, and then part her lips. "Oh, oh, oh!" she grunted as he licked, sucked and slobbered at her cleft. She felt her back arch as he found her small button of pleasure and gnawed lightly at it. "A heady bouquet pervaded the air in the small room and she gasped, writhed and grimaced. "Oh!" she finally let out a long shuddering gasp, then lay still on the table. "I must," he declared and stood. She heard a zipper being tugged down, and then heard him fumble on the table. "Some more wine, my sweet?" he asked and pressed his manhood to her lips. She tasted the wine on his flesh and greedily sucked at the pillar that he presented to her. "Oh, my darling, my sweet, your youth and your beauty," he sighed, and then used his powerful hands to hold her head still on his cock. "Mmph!" she screamed as he pumped his seed into her mouth. "Swallow, my dear, swallow it all," he crooned as his cock pumped stream after stream of his essence into her. She did, pausing to savor the flavor, as if it too were a rich, heady wine. "The waiter opened the door, saw the display of carnal pleasure before him, and quietly closed the door again. "I know, I know I did promise you, but were I to change my mind, is there anything I could say or do that would persuade you, my sweet?" the man implored the young maiden. "I should think, any man that would agree to betroth himself to me would hardly be a virgin himself on our wedding day," the woman agreed. "Ah, you will not regret this, my dear," the man laughed happily as he eased himself between her still splayed thighs. "At first, it may sting a little, the bruising of your inner self," he cautioned, then drove him in to the hilt. She did not have an opportunity to stifle the surprised, pained scream that burst from her throat as he forced himself through her hymen. Moments later, though, the pain had subsided, only to be replaced with an intense pleasure. "Do you believe, my dear, that our labors here today should be fruitful?" he asked as he quickened his pace. "I should think so!" she gasped as the intense feelings again filled her insides. After he had finished thrusting in and out of her, he pulled her to her feet, kissed her several times, and then bade her sit again. They refilled their glasses and drank what was left of their wine. "I am sorry, my darling, I know I did promise you, but your beauty did make such a promise nearly impossible," he said, almost sadly. "But I did agree to it," she reminded him. "That you did," he said, staring at the light as it shone through his half empty glass. "May I?" he asked and again pulled her to her feet. She wondered what he was doing as he had her bend at the waist, pressing her large breasts against the wooden table. "Oh, no, no, my darling, do not!" she cried out as she felt his thumb, again wet from wine, press against her tightly puckered nether hole. "But I must!" he declared, and then lapped avidly at her hole. "But it is dirty, it is too vulgar, you shouldn't!" she protested as he again wet his thumb in his wine, and then traced around and around her anus. "I tell you, I must," he again declared and continued to lick at her anus. "But it is so..." she weakly said, then groaned as the pleasure she was receiving pervaded all of her flesh. "Please, please allow me this last liberty," he begged and she shrieked as she felt the head of his cock press against that tightly puckered vessel. "No, no, please, my darling, my sweet, please do not," she begged as he forced himself into her. Even as he had spent his ejaculations into her twice already, he did not last long, much to her relief. "You are no gentleman, I fear," she sobbed as a loud fart escaped her bruised flesh. "Here," he said, placing the bottle in front of her. "What?" she tearfully asked, regarding the bottle. "Here, put your finger, right here," he said, taking her small hand and putting a finger into the mouth of the bottle. "And then what?" she asked as she felt his large, powerful hand at her shoulder. "Then enter, my dear, sweet girl, enter," he soothed and pushed her into the bottle. He placed his mouth over the mouth of the bottle and sucked mightily, trying to suck out as much air as possible. Quickly, he jammed the cork into the bottle, making sure it was tightly in the bottle before pulling up his trousers, zipped his zipper and buckled his belt. He gathered up her discarded clothing and her sandals, as well as her purse, a large cloth bag. Then he rang for service. "Yes, sir?" the waiter asked. "The check, please," the man calmly asked. "Ah, sir, you will not be staying to enjoy our dessert?" the waiter asked, looking all around the room for the man's dinner companion. "No, no, I do believe I have already had the finest this place has to offer," the man smiled. He paid, tipping the waiter handsomely, then, taking the bottle of dark wine, left the small restaurant. He walked the two miles to his home, carefully cradling the bottle of burgundy to his chest. "Another burgundy?" his wife sneered as he entered the home. "Yes, but this is a full bodied one," he smiled. "A little immature, a little pretentious, but full bodied, and if you can believe it, completely unbruised before the first pressing." "Well la de fucking dah," his blonde wife sneered, already well into her second bottle of white wine. "Let me go seal this one and I will be right back," he insisted, clutching the bottle tightly. "Why you got to seal them so fucking much?" she asked. "I tried and tried to open that bottle of red, finally gave up." "What bottle of red?" he asked and she pointed to a bottle on the small low table. "Be right back," he promised. In his wine cellar, he sealed the mouth and cork of the burgundy with paraffin, and then placed the bottle on a rack. He looked at his rack of red wine and made note of which bottle was missing. Then he returned to the small parlor where his wife had again picked up the bottle of red wine. "You've already had two white wines, my love," he gently said, taking the bottle from her hands. "You don't want to mingle the two, not a good melding of the flavors, you know?" "Look, genius, not everybody drinks for the taste," she sneered. "Some of drink because we like getting drunk." "True, unfortunately very true," he smiled, hoping to placate her. He looked at the bottle and smiled. She had been a very feisty red head, small, almost boyish in figure, even though she was twenty five years old. Her long, carrot orange hair had hung down to just below her flat buttocks and her skin was mottled with several splotches of freckles. Her eyes were large, brown orbs, but instead of being warm, were mistrusting, hard eyes. "No, no, my dear, I do not believe you would have enjoyed this wine at all," he concurred. "Far too tart, almost vinegar by now, me should think." ""Then why keep it?" she shrilled. "Because I did enjoy it at one time," he mused aloud, still looking at the wine inside the dark green bottle. "I am sure you've agitated it even worse in your clumsy attempts to open this bottle." She bristled under his calling her 'clumsy.' She finished her second bottle and waved it at him. "Get me another, Mister Connoisseur," she slurred. "Hmm?" he asked, tearing his eyes from the bottle in his hand "I said..." she demanded. He looked at his wife. She had been pretty, some would say beautiful when she was younger. He had to admit, it was his own fault. He had not taken the time to cultivate her, tend to her. "Too many minerals, not enough pruning and now the fruit is bitter, too full for the vine to support it any longer," he though t to himself. She was several pounds overweight, too pale from lack of sunlight, and unwashed. She held up the wine bottle and shook it again, to see if there was any liquid left in it. "Think your plump little finger could fit into that bottle?" he suddenly asked. "What?" she shrilled, incensed that he would call her 'plump.' "Bet it'd get stuck," he went on, putting the bottle of red wine on the table. "Would not!" his wife shrilled, jamming her index finger into the small opening of the bottle. "And here you go," he soothed, pushing her into the bottle. HE put his thumb over the mouth of the bottle until he found the cork, corkscrew still stuck in it. He jammed the cork into the bottle, then removed the corkscrew. Quite liberally, he sealed the mouth and cork with paraffin, and then carefully placed the new bottle on the bottom of the white wine rack. He shut off the light in the wine cellar and again picked up the bottle of red wine his thoughtless wife had grabbed and brought upstairs. "Thoughtless, yes thoughtless," he said aloud. "I have shown her and shown her which wines she is allowed to partake in, and yet, that is not good enough for her. But it is my own fault, you know." "I wonder," he thought. "I wonder if time has aged her at all, or has it soured her?" He used a knife to peel away the wax, then used the corkscrew and eased the cork from the bottle. He held the bottle up and slowly poured the wine onto the floor. "Damn it, took you long enough!" she shrilled when the last of the liquid had dribbled out of the bottle onto the floor. "Nope, hasn't changed her at all," he sighed as the red head woman poured out a litany of complaints. "And I'm not falling for that 'here, put your finger in this bottle' shit again, you hear me?" she shrilled, slapping at him with her small hands. "I would think not, but nevertheless, can I interest you in a bottle of wine? I happen to have a wonderful port, not too dry, not too sweet," he laughed as her blows were ineffectual. THE END **Author's Note: I write these stories purely for my own pleasure. I post them here for your pleasure. Any and all comments from 'Anonymous' will be deleted. And yet, even after posting this statement, 'Anonymous' will still persist in posting pointless, incendiary, and often erroneous comments.