The Tasting

This story contains: MF, oral, cons.

NOTE:

This story is copyright 1998 by Pulp Fan. Permission is given to repost it, or to put it on free websites, but please don't alter the text. You can contact me at the address in my profile.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled story...

* * * * *

Tom didn't particularly want to go to the wine tasting.

He didn't particularly like wine.

Nor, in all honesty, did he particularly like the host of the event. Unfortunately, said host was also his girlfriend's boss, which explained why he had little choice in the matter.

The invitation had been issued a few weeks before--Jenny's boss, John, was hosting a charity wine tasting at his Lake Forest estate, and the pleasure of their company was requested. A few words from Tom to Jenny on just how pleasant John's company was had brought him an icy rebuke and a few nights of no loving. Though that last bit wasn't so odd these days; while their romance had begun with a great deal of fiery passion, too often lately it seemed they were just going through the motions while they drifted apart, neither knowing how to stop--nor caring enough to stop--the slow but steady ebb of their feelings for each other. Of late, most of the passion in their relationship was spent on arguing with each other, sometimes over the most trivial of matters, rather than on sex. While their screams had once been those of ecstasy, as Tom pierced Jenny body and soul, these days they were generally of a different nature.

Jenny was a vice president of marketing for a large hotel chain, of which John was president. As Jenny had complained to Tom on occasion, if you were a woman at a large corporation, you had to be twice as good to get half as far as a man, and she was determined to get to the top. John, however, had been impressed with her intelligence and perseverance and she had been on a fast track. If Tom thought, from time to time, that Jenny's good looks didn't hurt her any when it came to John's interest in her professionally, he kept those thoughts to himself. He didn't have a death wish, and there was no denying that when it came to hotel marketing, Jenny could ably strut her stuff.

Though he had nothing concrete on which to base his dislike of John, Tom was generally a good judge of character--at least when it came to men--and his opinion of John was far from flattering. He viewed the man as a user, a guy who saw his subordinates as tools--fine tools, expensive tools, tools to be taken care of, to be sure, but nonetheless, just tools, free to be discarded for other tools if the need arose. Not surprisingly, since John had taken an interest in her and more or less championed her way up the corporate ladder, Jenny took a slightly different view of him--sure, he could be tough, but business was business, and you didn't make money or get where John had gotten--where Jenny wished to go--if you were a wimp. As Jenny had essentially told Tom from time to time while arguing with him, Tom was a bright guy, but he was just a construction worker; he didn't really understand all the ins and outs of big business and corporate politics.

When Tom and Jenny had first started dating, she hadn't complained about his job--or the solid physique it had given him. These days...

Tom might have been a blue collar guy, and maybe he didn't have his finger on the pulse of the corporate world, but he did know one thing--he was stuck going to the wine tasting.

* * * * *

"Good to see you again, John," Tom lied, as he shook the man's hand.

"And always good to see you too, Tom," replied John, returning the firm grasp. "Glad you could make it."

In his early fifties, of average height with hair starting to turn gray, John hardly cut an impressive figure from purely a physical standpoint, but Tom couldn't deny that there was some indefinable quality about the man--people noticed him; when he spoke, they listened. Sort of like that investment guy in those old commercials on television, he thought wryly to himself. John had a forceful personality and over the years, had somehow managed to cultivate it, enhance it and, strange as it sounded, practically exude it, until the aura of it cloaked him and lent him a stature difficult to ignore. As Jenny was fond of retorting whenever Tom said anything negative about her boss, Tom was just jealous that he didn't possess the same magnetism.

Jenny was pretty magnetic herself. Though the dress code for the occasion was informal, Jenny looked stunning as always. Her brunette waves were freshly permed, cascading over her shoulders and the silk blouse she was wearing. The tight material clung to her form, highlighting the firm fullness of her breasts. A short skirt revealed tanned, muscular calves and thighs, wrapped around her taut little ass. When Jenny got dolled up like this, Tom had to admit that on that front at least, he was a lucky guy. When they weren't fighting, Jenny had an awesome body and she knew how to use it.

Tom exchanged pleasantries for a few moments with John and the circle of hotel executives gathered around him. Jenny was in her element, schmoozing with her fellow execs. As quickly and politely as he could, Tom excused himself from the little group, as always feeling a twinge of disappointment that Jenny barely acknowledged his leaving--nor cared. However, from past experience, he could almost calculate to the minute when Ernie, the head of development, would try to impress others in the crowd with his knowledge of wine. "This one offers a fresh, slightly fruity nose, with very subtle hints of strawberry and rose petal..." If Tom heard that pretentious snob break into his wine routine one more time, he thought he might teach Ernie that noses could also be broken, swollen and bloody, not just fresh and slightly fruity. None of which would, unfortunately, be good for Jenny's career--though it would provide Tom with some small measure of personal satisfaction.

Tom wandered over to pick up a glass of the event's second wine selection, fluting strains of the classical music being played by the musicians set up on the lower rear balcony of the mansion providing soothing background noise. Though there were over a dozen wines set up on the outdoor bar area, carefully selected to lead the taster on a controlled journey through various of the different types of wines, Tom knew he'd never make it past the third one.

"Wonder if Jenny'd have a fit if I asked for a beer?" he wondered to himself as he walked around the grounds of John's palatial estate. Though John made more than a decent buck at his job, he had made most of his fortune the old fashioned way--he inherited it. His father had founded the hotel chain, and while the family no longer owned the chain outright, Jenny had told Tom from time to time that John's interest was worth in excess of one hundred million dollars. His mansion and its grounds were all one would expect from such excessive wealth. Immaculate lawns stretched seemingly forever, their expanse broken occasionally by carefully trimmed bushes and trees, by gardens featuring a dizzying array of flowers in bloom. Their scent wafted through the air as he walked towards a white gazebo, laying on the shores of a small pond on the estate.

Idly sipping his wine, Tom slumped down on the grass, back against the small structure, cutting off his view and the noise of the party. "Much better," he thought to himself. Casting about, he unearthed a few small pebbles which be began to toss desultorily into the tranquil waters, watching the small splashes as they struck, the ripples spreading across the clear surface of the pond. Time passed in silence as he sat there, watching the waters, the trees across the way swaying slightly in the soft breeze, the birds soaring in the bright blue sky.

"Hi there," came a voice to his side, startling Tom out of his calm reverie. Flustered, he glanced up...and saw her. Later, Tom would rail in frustration that he was never afterwards able to properly express the view that met his eyes in those first few seconds. Maybe it was the sun in the sky behind her, blinding his sight with its brilliance for just a flash, distorting his vision. Maybe it was due to his being startled, or the wine, though he hadn't had that much to drink. Whatever the cause, he looked up and beheld a shimmering vision, a woman clad in a summer dress, face momentarily obscured, appearing for a brief instant like a sun goddess out of some ancient myth, golden rays of illumination seeming to surround her unearthly form. Mouth agape, Tom stared mesmerized, entranced by the apparition before him.

"Hello?" the woman spoke again and the illusion was shattered.

"Uh, hi," Tom managed to stammer in greeting, struggling to his feet.

"Sorry to have startled you," the woman laughed. "I didn't realize you were so engrossed."

The spell broken, Tom could see as she approached that she was no unearthly goddess but a real woman, very real and very woman. Her summer dress clung to the upper part of her body, emphasizing the lush swell of her breasts, while its hem swirled beneath her knees, playing peek-a-boo with her bare feet. Long black hair flowed in luxurious tresses, billowing over her shoulders and down her back. Clear brown eyes sparkled at him, while beneath a pert nose reposed a pair of full, red lips, upturned in a slight smile that seemed to hint of life's exquisite mysteries.

"No problem," Tom managed to get out without stammering. "Hey--I've seen you before!"

Having reached the gazebo, the woman leaned against it, idly twirling a finger around the lip of her wine glass. "Yes, though we've never met," she agreed. "I saw you wander over here a few minutes ago and wondered if it was you."

Though it was true that they'd never met, Tom _had_ seen her, many times before. Several months ago, while riding the train downtown to work, this woman had begun to sit across from him, on the upper level of the train. She was a knockout, and Tom had often snatched furtive glimpses of her over his book. From the way that she smiled at him occasionally when their eyes met, Tom had felt that his secret attentions had not gone unnoticed, and that more direct contact would not be unwelcome...but that was back when things with Jenny were still firing great on all cylinders. And so all he had done was stare at her from time to time--and then as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone. Every day for a few weeks she had sat across from him, then one day she wasn't there. The next day when Tom got on the train, and every day that next week, he hoped she would appear when they reached the stop where she boarded, but he never saw her again. He had wondered for awhile what had become of her, before she had slowly sunk out of his consciousness. But that was no longer the case!

"I'm Tom," he offered, holding out his hand.

"Kim," she replied, shaking his hand in a firm grasp. "It's nice to finally meet you after seeing you on the train all that time."

"Yeah," Tom said. "I'm a little surprised you remember seeing me. I wondered what happened to you."

"I was just in town for a few weeks. I live in L.A. I'm a consultant, and I was just in town for a little while working on a job."

"Oh, are you back now for another job?"

"Just for a few days--some follow-up on the old one. Then it's back to the coast. What's your story?"

"I'm in construction," Tom replied. "From the laborer side of things."

"Oh. How do you know John then?" she asked with a smile. "I thought he didn't know anyone who didn't live in a suit and a tie."

Tom laughed. "Yeah, not too many I suppose. No, my girlfriend is one of his minions. So here I am. How about you--where do you know John from?"

"He's my cousin."

Tom tried hard not to choke on his drink as he was swallowing. "His cousin?"

"Yeah...but don't hold it against me," Kim laughed. "I'm from the poor side of the family; unfortunately, my side decided not to go along with John's father when he started the hotels. You win some, you lose some."

"That's too bad," Tom responded. "But don't worry--I wouldn't hold your being related to John against you. Besides, John's an alright guy."

"You're a terrible liar," she replied, sipping her wine. "I can see it in your face when I say his name, hear it in your voice when you say it. You don't think much of John, do you?"

"Well...uh, no, John's OK..."

"Don't lie to me!" Kim laughed. "That's alright, I've known him all my life and there's no question about it, John can be a bit of a prick!"

"Well, if you put it that way..." Tom laughed with her.

Leaning against the gazebo, gazing out over the water, they talked for a few more moments before Kim said, "Let's take a walk. I'd like to stretch my legs a little."

Wandering over the lawn, the two chatted. Tom found it very easy to open up to this vivacious, beautiful creature beside him, telling her of his boyhood in Skokie, of the various projects he had worked on, of him and Jenny. Though he didn't express the thoughts, as Tom spoke with Kim about his girlfriend, the realization came to him that they would be over soon, that they were each too different and too unwilling to change for the other, even if they were asked. It was no one's fault, really, it was just one of those things that didn't work out. For her part, Kim offered no advice, just listened to him, asking questions now and then, in turn talking about her job and family. Eventually, their glasses empty, they strolled back to the party.

Tom grabbed two glasses of the next wine on the program, handed one to Kim. She swirled it in the glass for a moment like a connoisseur, inhaled, sipped and swirled it in her mouth. Swallowing, she rendered her verdict.

"It's an audacious little wine," she opined with mock solemnity. "It kind of jumps up and slaps you in the face!" Her pink tongue crept out and slowly licked a few drops of wine from her lips.

Tom laughed. He could think of plenty of things to do with that pretty face, but slapping was definitely not one of them!

Exchanging short pleasantries with others at the bar, Kim offered to take Tom on a tour of the mansion.

"Sure," he replied, "though I've seen it before...at least parts of it."

"Not the way I'll show it to you!" Kim promised, her clear eyes sparkling, grabbing his arm and linking hers with it.

Sauntering towards the mansion, talking of this and that, they passed near the small cluster that had formed around John. Jenny was still there, vivaciously chatting. As they went by, Tom waved at her; she flashed him a quick smile, then went back to talking with the group. Considering that she was normally pretty jealous, Tom viewed her reaction as symptomatic of their problems.

As they walked up the short flight of steps leading to the rear balcony, Tom said, "I'm glad you remembered me from the train, though I'm a little surprised."

"Well, I _knew_ you would remember me," Kim smiled. "After all, sitting where you were, you could see up my skirt!"

Tom felt an invisible hand choking his throat, reaching in and throttling him. He _had_ been able to see up her skirt on occasion on the train, but was mortified to learn that she knew he had done it. He rapidly sputtered denials which sounded lame even to his ears.

"No, it's OK," she laughed, as he choked out yet another sentence saying she was mistaken. "I knew about it--hell, I let you!"

Tom quickly gulped some wine in confusion. It wasn't every day he was walking with a beautiful woman, and she admitted that not only did she know he had looked up her skirt, but that she had cooperated!

"I'm sorry," she smiled, clearly delighting in the crimson flush suffusing his face, his stuttering attempts at speech. She squeezed his arm. "It was kind of naughty of me but, I thought, what's the harm? It was fun--I hadn't flashed anyone in a while! I didn't mean to embarrass you!"

They had now entered the mansion, walking in through the open set of doors leading into the library. Casting wildly about for some way to change the topic, certain that if they stayed on this track he'd make an absolute fool of himself, Tom stabbed a finger in the direction of a portrait of a man hanging above the fireplace mantle. "Who's that?" he managed to ask, though he already knew the answer from a prior visit.

Kim allowed herself to be sidetracked. "Ah. That would be John's father, provider of much of what you see around you. As good a place as any, I suppose, to begin our little tour."

Kim led him leisurely through the first floor of the mansion, pointing out various items of interest. As they walked, her arm linked in his, her hip occasionally brushed against him, sending little jolts of electricity through his body. Tom was acutely aware of her presence, of her warmth and vitality. Outside it had been overwhelmed by the aroma of the flowers; inside, Kim's perfume, the scent of her hair, filled his senses. Tom was a little worried that the growing bulge in his pants would betray him, but if she noticed, Kim was silent.

As they passed by a bathroom, Kim turned to him. "Here, hold this," she said, unlinking her arm and handing him her wine glass. "I have to go tinkle," she explained, somewhat unnecessarily.

The door closing behind her, Tom walked a short way down the panelled hall and sat down on an ottoman. His feelings were a jumbled mess, though his hormones were clearly sending a unified signal. Tom had never been good at judging women--particularly ones he didn't know well--and it was possible he was misreading Kim's flirtation with him, but he didn't think it was likely. He was pretty certain that if he wanted to pursue a romantic liaison with her, his advances would not be unwelcomed. If it hadn't been for Jenny, it would have been a no-brainer. As it was, thinking of Jenny made him cringe slightly with guilt, though he hadn't done anything yet.

And yet, even with Jenny in the picture, he was still intrigued. Kim was gorgeous, sexy and fun. "Kind of like Jenny used to be with me," he mused bitterly. And as he was forced to admit to himself more and more these days, his relationship with Jenny was going nowhere. Their candle had burned brightly for awhile, but only a low flame remained, destined to be snuffed in the near future. If he had run into Kim a month from now, it might be that he and Jenny would have written their final verse. If he pushed it along...

His thoughts were interrupted as Kim emerged from the bathroom. He rose to his feet, met her.

"Here, I'll make you a trade," she said with a smile. She took her glass from his hand, and with her other hand, pressed a wadded up piece of cloth into his. Tom looked down...and did a double take. Kim had just handed him her panties!

Kim grinned mischievously, pleased at the shocked look on his face. "Would you be a doll and carry them for me?" she inquired innocently. "I decided since I was barefoot, I might as well just go that next step, but I don't have anywhere to put them!"

"Jesus!" Tom sputtered, half to himself. He hurriedly stuffed them into a pocket of his pants, frantically looking around to see if anyone had noticed the exchange.

"Looks like you've got a bit of a bulge there," Kim observed. It was true--and not just from the panties he had shoved into his pocket. She slowly licked some wine off the rim of her glass, gazing deeply into his eyes.

"I, uh..."

"Well, are you enjoying the tour?" she interrupted, clear eyes sparkling with humor...and something else.

"Uh, yeah," Tom said, flustered. First she had admitted she flashed him, now this! Though he'd had quite a bit of experience with the fairer sex, he had never met anyone quite like Kim.

"Well then, let's continue, shall we?" Linking her arm in his again, Kim started down the hall, half-dragging Tom with her as he struggled to sort everything out.