Excellent Pairings

Allen opens the email. It looks promising. He's excited. He reads.

"Honey!" he yells. "Abby! I got it! I got the story!"

Breathless Abby runs to Allen's office. "What? What's the matter?"

"The story, honey. I got the story."

"What story?"

"You know, the one from Razer."

"The sex magazine? That one?"

"It's not a 'sex magazine.' He gives her a nasty look, then reconsiders. "Well... it's not just a sex magazine."

"Did they offer-"

"An advance? Hell yes! A thousand bucks and two thousand more upon acceptance."

"Wow!" Abbey is coming around. "Congratulations!"

"Yeah, plus they kicked in $400 for some stuff I need for the project."

"Really? What stuff?"

Hmm... How much should he tell her at this point?

"Wine," he says. "I need to buy three bottles of red—two dry and one sweet, also three whites and a rosé . And champagne."

"That's..." she does the arithmetic, "$50 a bottle! A step up for our usual, wouldn't you say?"

"I'll buy two of each, but nice, eh?"

"What the idea of the story? Is it a wine review, then?"

Getting on thin ice here.

"Ahh... not exactly. It's more of the ideal pairing."

She waits. Nothing.

"Pairing with what?"

"Oh... I guess that will be kind of a surprise. In fact—I got it all planned out—I would like to invite Bob and Barb, also Carl and Cathy. And I can unveil the project and we can all participate! Whaddaya think?"

Abby laughs. "I think it sounds fantastic! Let's call them!"

"And the ladies should wear skirts."

Abby stops laughing. "What? Why?"

"Ah, come on," Alan says. "Humor me."

She smiles. What the hell, right?

The others are delighted at the invite. Friday at six.

***

They meet and greet and then they eat. Everyone is allowed a glass of the wine of their choice. Champagne stays corked, though. Keeps the fizz.

"You get help picking these out?" Carl asks after a big gulp of one of the reds.

"Yeah. Greg at WineWorld. He picked them all."

Abby looks great. Better than usual. She has a dress on. Yellow for the springtime. Her body is girl-next-door normal and healthy. Her face is cute. Big brown eyes and hair the exact same color. She's a good cook, too. The dinner is on the light side. Allen cautioned against a heavy meal. Soup, salad, fried shrimp, and rice pilaf. They're almost done.

Cathy is with Carl. She's small and sleek as a nymph. Blue eyes, blond—real blond—and pale white skin. Blue shirt, dark blue skirt, with pleats! Reminds Allen of Catholic school.

Sitting across from this pair is Bob and Barb. Barb is the voluptuous sort. Not fat, just buxom, in a luscious sort of way. Tall, with long bones, like a model. Ten years from now things will be probably be different, but today she is at her prime. She's dressed in a white sundress decorated with a flower pattern. It's kind of daring with a body like that. Revealing nothing but suggesting everything.

All six are on the sunny side of 40, and most have known one another for a decade or two and consider each a loving friend. They get along so well because they are neither too much nor too little alike. They have never been unfaithful to their mates and there have been no shenanigans among the group, but they're not insensitive to the attractive qualities of their friends, and the normal erotic fantasies we all have prevail among them. But these are unspoken.

After dinner they all change into their bathing suits for a swim in Allen's pool. Nice night for it. Modest one-piece suits for all the ladies and not a speedo in sight on the men. Just a refreshing swim on a warm night. Afterward the ladies take showers to be rid of the chlorine. This takes a while, what with dying hair and all. The men sit and have a glass of whisky.

By the time the ladies return, all the wine has been recorked and toted out to the living room, the reds placed in a long row upon the fireplace with an array of glasses, and the whites in a Styrofoam cooler on ice. No wine has been poured since dinner.

The five are most curious about the sixth's project, and the reveal is near. Allen instructs them all to sit on any of the couches or comfortable chairs arrayed in the room. They are relaxed and waiting for Allen to begin the... what is it now? A tasting? No? Or something?

At last the master of ceremonies is ready to hold forth. He stands and seems about to speak, but he looks terrified.

"My friends. And... and Abby. Welcome." He still can't make eye-contact. "As you know, I have been commissioned to write a story for Razer Magazine."

Carl gives a wolf-whistle which makes the all, all but Allen, laugh. Now he's really flustered.

They've umm... they've paid me a nice advance, bought the wine, and there's a nice check waiting for me when the story goes live."

The five clap. Allen smiles and nods, red-faced.

"But that's not the big thing," he swallows. Throat dry. Must have wine. "The bigger thing, is that this will open many doors for me and insure me some security as a writer, which you know I have always worked hard to achieve. These days, it's a bitch to make it as a writer, but this will open the doors for me. It's very important to me."

The nod, all smiles. They get it. They are happy to help. But Allen has stopped talking. He's looking at the floor.

"Yo, Al!" Bob pipes. "You all right?"

He snaps to. "Yeah! I'm okay."

"So what's the project, Allen," little Cathy asks. "How come we're here?"

Allen takes a big breath and exhales heavily. Here goes...

"Well, as you know, this is a wine-pairings test. To see what wine goes best with... you know, that's what a pairing test is. See what goes best with what."

"Uh huh," Bob grunts.

"So, Allen," Barb asks. "What are we pairing all these delicious wines with?"

Allen just stares at Barb for too-long a space.

"Allen?" Bob again.

"Pussy." He just says it just like that and covers his mouth as if it slipped out.

No one reacts. The five just sit there.

Finally Carl asks, "What was that? Did you say..."

Allen stands straight and plunges ahead bravely. "I said 'pussy.' I have been commissioned to find out, which wine or wines, are best paired with the act of cunnilingus—to put if formally. And I asked all of you here to help me do the project." He waits. "See?"

All five are appalled. They exchange looks at one another of disbelief tainted with every shade of queasiness. Abby is on the edge of outrage. She feels like apologizing to all of them.

"Have you lost your mind, Allen? I mean... what... what do you expect to happen here?"

"Well," still brave, "what I hoped would happen is this: each woman would ahh... unveil her genital area, and each man would sample the ahh... woman, and then follow the tasting with a swallow of each of the wines. And then we would have, you know, an answer to the age-old question of..."

"Which wine goes best with pussy!" Bob finished and burst out laughing. Wife Barb looked daggers at him but at last could not suppress a smile.

"Barb!" Cathy exclaimed. "What are you smiling about? Do you know what he wants us to do?"

"Yeah, Cath, I get it. Pretty weird."

Abby has had it. "I need you all to know that I knew nothing about this. I never would have subject any of you to this." She considers. "Ladies, come with me. We need to talk in private. I'm so sorry!"

The three are off to Abby's bedroom, and she shuts the door. Allen takes a seat in the living room with the two men. He looks beat. The other two are simply staring at him. He looks up.

"What?" Allen asks. "Hey... I gave it a shot. It was an important opportunity."

Bob and Carl look at one another, wondering if the other is thinking what he is thinking.

"I think it's a great idea," Bob ventures.

Allen perks up. "You do?"

"Really, Bob?" Carl asks. "You want his big nose in your wife's snatch? I mean... do you?"

"I'm just gonna come out and say it: I never did anything like this before and it sounds like fun. And it'll probably never happen again, so I'm considering it's okay."

"And Allen," Carl asks, "you want us pokin' around in your lady's twinkie? That sound like a good idea to you?"

Allen considers and says, "I'm kind of with Bob on this. C'mon, Carl! You're as attracted to these women as we are. They're beautiful!"

Carl mumbles, "We... we don't do that."

"What?" Allen asks. "What don't you do?"

"The oral sex thing."

Allen and Bob are incredulous. "Really?" they both say at once.

"I never tried it. It... it just seems weird."

"She'll love it!" Allen assures him.

"Yeah! Especially with three tongues at work!" Bob adds helpfully.

Carl is indignant. "Was that necessary?"

"Oh c'mon, Carl. Lighten up a little," Allen says. "The girls probably won't want anything to do with it anyway. They probably fucking hate me."

***

"It's okay with me," Barb says. "Three handsome hunks working my pussy while we drink expensive wines? And all for a good cause?"

"That's disgusting, Barb," Abby says.

"I can't believe you even said that, Barb," Cathy whispers, mortified. "What would Bob say?"

"I don't know," she says thoughtfully. "Good question. If he's like most men he's already fantasized about doing it to y'all plenty of times."

"Barb!" Cathy is shocked.

Barb looks to Abby. "Don't you think that's true?"

Abby nods. "Probably."

"And if we're honest, we shouldn't pretend that we've never imagined those handsome men giving us some real attention. They are the men in our lives. How can we not think about them?"

This time Cathy is silent. Abby smiles and nods agreement with Barb.

Cathy is anxious. "But me and Carl..."

What about you and Carl, hon?" Abby asks.

"We don't do that at home. He doesn't do that to me, and I don't... do it to him."

"My god!" Barb laughs. "Don't you want him to?"

Cathy looks like she's going to cry. Abby gives her a hug.

"I guess I'm curious."

"And you never wanted to taste a nice penis in your mouth?" Barb asks this tenderly and sincerely and Cathy considers her feelings, not her 'outrage.'

"I do wonder."

"Well," Barb laughs. "That's not on the menu tonight. One thing at a time! I say we go with it. It sounds incredibly naughty but harmless, and instructive to sweet Cathy and all for a good cause!"

"My god," Abby says. "I'm glad I shaved today!"

"Me, too. For the pool, I was thinking, but this!" They look at Cathy.

She smiles. "I don't have to," she says. "It's all so thin and blond it looks like I have no pubic hair."

"Wow," Barb muses. "That's adorable."

"So what about the men?" Abby asks.

"I got a feeling they'll be fine with it," Barb says. "You know... sacrificing for the good of a friend."

At that, the three have a fine laugh. The ladies refine their plan while they 'powder their noses' and prepare for showtime. They're terribly excited.

The ladies re-enter the living room and the men look up expectedly, Allen a little sheepish. Abby is in front, the other two behind her. They present a lovely but formidable front.

Allen admits defeat. "Hey. I'm sorry. I... I apologize. It was presumptuous, and-"

"Quit while you're ahead, Allen," Abby says. The men lighten up and Allen is so relieved!

"Oh! Thank you. Thank you all! When this gets published I'll take us all out to the best-"

"All right, honey, chill!" The laughter breaks the ice and indicates all is well.

"So!" Abby says. "We have some rules."

"Uh-oh," Bob grunts.

"Oh, be quiet you big lug," Barb says. "It's not a big deal."

"Here's the deal," Abby continues. " We'll bare our... pussies, but nothing else. And no hands. Understand?"

The men nod obediently.

"And don't expect anything in return from us, because that's not going to happen!"

"What?" Allen is indignant. "Are you kidding? I didn't even expect you'd do this!"

"So," Abbey says. "Those are the rules. So. How do we get started?"

Allen stands and becomes the director. "Okay... you three ladies all on the long couch in the middle of the room. There's enough room for the subject to spread her... you know, to... open her legs and be comfortable."

"The 'subject,'" Barb laughs.

"So, maybe Abbey in the middle and you two on either side," Allen continues. "Doesn't really matter which where."

The ladies take their seats as instructed. Barb on the left, Abby in the middle, and Cathy on the right.

"I'm in charge of the wine," Allen says, and pours a glass from a red bottle, a 1995 Bordeaux. And we'll go from left to right, Barb, Abby, then Cathy. And Bob can go first, then Carl, then me." He looks at the other men and they nod in agreement.

Cathy speaks up in a shy voice. "Can Carl go first?"

Allen is fine with the change. "Sure Cathy. How come?"

"'Cause I want my first time doing this to be with him."

"That's sweet, honey," Carl says. "That's how it ought be."

"So now, would you ladies... ahh... please proceed to bare your... pussies?"

The women giggle at Allen's total lack of any suaveness. The three look at one another, and since Barb will be first, she stands, lifts her sundress to her waist and reveal herself panty-less. The men are enchanted. What a lovely, trimmed pussy she has! Nothing extreme, just well-manicured and a most compelling sight. She sits and spreads her long thighs, beautifully muscled. She looks at Carl, defiantly and scoots a bit forward on the couch, almost daring him to come to her. She puts her feet up on the couch and this tilts her pelvis a bit backward, exposing her little rosebud peeking out under the pink folds of her pussy.

"Go on, dude," Bob whispers to Carl. "I'm okay with this."

Carl nods resolutely and kneels in front of Barb. He leans forward, almost touching her and stops. "God," he breathes. "You smell good." He leans in and begins a series of long, slow licks from near her butthole to her clitoris. He does this for 30-seconds and Allen calls for him to come up for air. Carl pulls his head up and looks at Barb. She gives him a big smile.

"You're a natural," she says. (It was a little disappointing, actually, but she wants to be encouraging.)

Some give little claps. Carl is so pleased. Allen hands him a glass of the Bordeaux and he fills his mouth, swishes, and swallows. He looks at his buds.

"It tastes good, but not as good as Barb," he observes with a sly grin.

"I see he's getting the hang of it,' Allen says to Bob, who nods, smiling.

"So, Allen asks, "does the wine work with Barb's taste?"

"No. Not really," Carl says. "Barb made the wine taste a little sour."

"Okay," Allen says, "now on to Abby. 30-seconds."

Abby stands. "I can't believe you're okay with this." She looks mad and sad. "I'm only doing this for you, you know?"

"And I appreciate it, hon."

She hesitates another few seconds. "This is really what you want?"

But now she reaches low and lifts the hem of her yellow dress to her waist, and again, the men are struck with wonder. Abby shaves. Completely. You wouldn't have thought so, kind of a prim lady, but there it is. A beautiful pussy as bare as could be. Delicious. She's jarred by the adoration in the men's' eyes. She sits suddenly, legs tight together, a little heated.

Carl, the little devil, pushes the envelope and kneels in front of Abby, waiting for her to open to his mouth. She looks at Carl but then transfers her gaze to her husband's eyes as she slowly opens her legs, tan from gardening and silky smooth wider and wider, then she, too, lifts her feet to the couch cushions and her butthole comes into view, all baby-bare.

She waits for Carl's eager tongue, but she stares into her husband's eyes as Carl leans in and tries a different technique, working her hole with his tongue, fucking her with it and all the time as she slips into ecstasy she stares into Allen's eyes. He's hypnotized by the eroticism that grips him. Another man is licking my wife's pussy and I love it," he thinks. I could come right now with the slightest touch. Her burning gaze adds to the eroticism and fills him with shame and excitement all at once. She, too, looks ashamed but overwhelmed in a trance with half-closed eyes. She begins to moan, and Allen realizes he has forgotten all about the clock.

"Time!" he calls, but Carl won't stop. Abby takes his head in her hands and pulls him in as if to drive his tongue deeper into her.

"Carl! Stop!" And finally Carl shakes free. He can hardly get his breath. He looks at Abby and she gives him a smoldering look.

"Another man just fucked me with his tongue," she breathes.

Jesus, Allen thinks. Is this really what I wanted?

Carl nods gratefully at Abby and takes the wine that Allen proffers with shaking hands. He drinks.

"Abby tastes different than Barb," he opines. "A sweet note where Barb was more salty. Barb was a stronger taste, too. I like both. Very much. The wine? Again a sour taste combined with the sex juices of these women." He pauses and wonders aloud. "How could I have never done this before?"

The laughing mood is long gone, but there are many smiles.

"Now me, honey!" Cathy chirps. She pops up and lifts up her skirt to her waist. Again a spell is cast over the men. Scant blond fuzz and a few stray golden hairs cannot obscure an almost bare pussy. She is indeed a nymph incarnate. She starts to sit back down but the sincere attention keeps her standing, soaking in the frank adoration. Then she does the most amazing thing. She turns around to display her white sleek bottom to the men. Even pushing it out a little.

Barb laughs but Abby is a little put out. "Cathy! You're not supposed to!" she stage-whispers.

Cathy giggles and sits down, scooting her butt to the edge of the cushion. The most nimble of the three, she lifts her feet up to the couch and spreads her legs so wide that Abby has to scoot over toward Barb. Every bit of her is offered for display—both her holes for easy viewing and her pussy already obviously wet. Her loving husband drops worshipfully to his knees and tries a new technique, concentrating on Cathy's sweet little clit, and this makes a big difference. Before the 30-seconds are over Cathy has an orgasm, bucking like a little bronco and finally squeezing Carl's head in her white thighs. She releases him at last.

Carl stands and accepts the wine. He ruminates a bit and holds forth. "Cathy, you both will discover, smells like a flower and her taste is mild. She gushes juices. All in all very nice, but once again—not better, just different. The wine? Same fault. Even Cathy's essence was turned sour." Carl starts to walk to his chair, but Cathy detains him for a grateful kiss.

Bob is next, and eager as he is, feels like he has to make an observation. He turns to Allen. "You haven't done the math on this, have you, Sparky?"

Allen smiles. "Waddaya mean?"

"Did you see what just happened to Cathy?"

"Yeah. So?"

"That was one pass. The way you got this set up, there will be 27 long passes made on each of the women. Didja consider that?"

Cathy gasps. "Oh my god that will kill me!"

The laughter is back.

Allen sees the problem. "So what do you propose?"

"Okay. Listen: The three reds with a 15-second session between each. Like this: pussy-red1, pussy-red2, pussy-red3. Then a brief report. You're recording this audio, right?" Allen nods. "Then same girl, different guy. Then the last guy on the same girl. Then we move to girl2. That's more than two-minutes per girl and I predict many orgasms this way. Then we move to the two whites and rosé. Same system. Then the champagne." He looks at the ladies. "That sound good?"

The women look to one another and finally agree that it's worth a try.

"Okay, but you and me need to finish Barb first. Right?"

"Right. Get the wine ready," Bob says. He looks over at his wife.

She opens her arms, and her long legs. "Come to mama, baby," she says.